been set. You don’t know what the other person is comfortable with yet. And it doesn’t help when the other party is a well-known, extremely closeted sports star.
“What’s up?”
“Huh?”
“Well, I haven’t known you that long,” he said, flicking the indicator light on as he took us off the main road, “but you don’t seem like the type to stay quiet for very long.”
“Then you don’t know me very well,” I sniped.
“Come on, what’s up with you?”
“Nothing. Seriously. Nothing.”
He chose to accept that for the time being, and I didn’t want to be the one getting all deep and meaningful before caffeine had even been served. I could see the ocean come into view before us; we were not that far from the pier where the Spirit of Tasmania berthed. Not that I would think Declan would use it that much, if at all, because he would have flights paid for him by the club. Better to only spend an hour on the plane than a full night by ferry. But this isn’t such a rocking place at night. I wondered where the hell he was taking me.
He pulled into a carspace in front of the pier.
“This is it?” I asked.
Declan unbuckled his seatbelt. “Yep.”
Puzzled, I jumped down from the cab and waited for him to come around from his side. He pointed out a coffee cart on the foreshore, which looked lonely and abandoned at this time of night, seeing most of the business people and tourists who would be the main source of custom during the day were long gone by now. Wryly, I said, “Wow. It’s a good thing you’re not going out of your way to impress me, on a first date and all.”
“A date?” he asked maddeningly. “Is that what this is?”
I should bloody hope so, seeing I’ve now made out with you three times , I thought to myself, but to keep up the nonchalance, I said, “Well, then, I’m definitely not putting out.”
He flushed again. For a footballer, who was probably used to the bawdiness of the locker room, he was easy to embarrass.
But I wished I hadn’t said it. My mouth and my propensity to put my foot in it was one of my less endearing traits. I don’t know why I had this need to prove I was tougher than I actually was. It probably made me look just as dumb as the guys he had to work with, all that posturing. But I guess we all do it day to day, to some extent.
TIGERS AND DEVILS | 39
“We could go somewhere else,” he suggested amiably.
“No,” I said quickly. “This is cool.”
And it was. I had to admit that I felt more comfortable in the darkness by the water than I would have been in a crowded café on Brunswick or Lygon streets. As we reached the cart, the owner came out from behind it and treated Declan like an old friend. “Mr. Tyler, you’re back!”
“Two away games in a row,” Declan said.
“Must get to be a hassle!”
Declan shrugged. “It means I get to come home more often.”
“Who’d want to leave this city?” the man asked, looking at me, maybe wanting my input?
I was still wondering if it was a rhetorical question when Declan gestured to me.
“Arnie, this is my friend Simon.”
“Pleased to meet you.” Arnie pumped my hand enthusiastically, like he was about to be my new best friend. “So what do you guys want? Your usual?”
“I’ll have my usual. Simon here will have a latte.”
I frowned at his take-charge attitude. As Arnie moved back behind his cart, I muttered to Declan, “How did you know I would take a latte?”
Declan shot me that million-dollar smile again. “You look like a latte drinker. Aren’t you?”
“Yeah, but….” I shrugged it off.
He stared at me for a moment and then moved closer to the cart to pay for the coffee. Arnie tried to give it to him gratis, but Declan wouldn’t hear of it, and I could see he left Arnie a sizable tip.
Not only had the smug bastard picked my drink, he had rightly guessed I would want the largest size available. He handed me the container, which was roughly the size of a laundry
“What’s up?”
“Huh?”
“Well, I haven’t known you that long,” he said, flicking the indicator light on as he took us off the main road, “but you don’t seem like the type to stay quiet for very long.”
“Then you don’t know me very well,” I sniped.
“Come on, what’s up with you?”
“Nothing. Seriously. Nothing.”
He chose to accept that for the time being, and I didn’t want to be the one getting all deep and meaningful before caffeine had even been served. I could see the ocean come into view before us; we were not that far from the pier where the Spirit of Tasmania berthed. Not that I would think Declan would use it that much, if at all, because he would have flights paid for him by the club. Better to only spend an hour on the plane than a full night by ferry. But this isn’t such a rocking place at night. I wondered where the hell he was taking me.
He pulled into a carspace in front of the pier.
“This is it?” I asked.
Declan unbuckled his seatbelt. “Yep.”
Puzzled, I jumped down from the cab and waited for him to come around from his side. He pointed out a coffee cart on the foreshore, which looked lonely and abandoned at this time of night, seeing most of the business people and tourists who would be the main source of custom during the day were long gone by now. Wryly, I said, “Wow. It’s a good thing you’re not going out of your way to impress me, on a first date and all.”
“A date?” he asked maddeningly. “Is that what this is?”
I should bloody hope so, seeing I’ve now made out with you three times , I thought to myself, but to keep up the nonchalance, I said, “Well, then, I’m definitely not putting out.”
He flushed again. For a footballer, who was probably used to the bawdiness of the locker room, he was easy to embarrass.
But I wished I hadn’t said it. My mouth and my propensity to put my foot in it was one of my less endearing traits. I don’t know why I had this need to prove I was tougher than I actually was. It probably made me look just as dumb as the guys he had to work with, all that posturing. But I guess we all do it day to day, to some extent.
TIGERS AND DEVILS | 39
“We could go somewhere else,” he suggested amiably.
“No,” I said quickly. “This is cool.”
And it was. I had to admit that I felt more comfortable in the darkness by the water than I would have been in a crowded café on Brunswick or Lygon streets. As we reached the cart, the owner came out from behind it and treated Declan like an old friend. “Mr. Tyler, you’re back!”
“Two away games in a row,” Declan said.
“Must get to be a hassle!”
Declan shrugged. “It means I get to come home more often.”
“Who’d want to leave this city?” the man asked, looking at me, maybe wanting my input?
I was still wondering if it was a rhetorical question when Declan gestured to me.
“Arnie, this is my friend Simon.”
“Pleased to meet you.” Arnie pumped my hand enthusiastically, like he was about to be my new best friend. “So what do you guys want? Your usual?”
“I’ll have my usual. Simon here will have a latte.”
I frowned at his take-charge attitude. As Arnie moved back behind his cart, I muttered to Declan, “How did you know I would take a latte?”
Declan shot me that million-dollar smile again. “You look like a latte drinker. Aren’t you?”
“Yeah, but….” I shrugged it off.
He stared at me for a moment and then moved closer to the cart to pay for the coffee. Arnie tried to give it to him gratis, but Declan wouldn’t hear of it, and I could see he left Arnie a sizable tip.
Not only had the smug bastard picked my drink, he had rightly guessed I would want the largest size available. He handed me the container, which was roughly the size of a laundry
Similar Books
