Grown-up Read Online Free PDF Page B

waiting for me, were you?”
    “No. I’m often here this late.”
    “God. I didn’t realize Dad was such a slave driver. Maybe I should report him to the state labor department.”
    “No need to rat him out,” Ben replied with a chuckle. “It’s voluntary. In fact, sometimes he nags at me to go home earlier. But I don’t mind staying. I like finishing projects.”
    Which meant, Austin presumed, either Ben tended toward OCD or he had no life. Maybe both. Because as far as Austin was concerned, there was rarely any reason to burn the midnight oil trying to get something done. Probably you could finish it the next day. And if not, well, the earth wouldn’t stop spinning.
    “How about dinner?” Austin asked. “My treat, seeing as you’re doing me a solid. Um, just nowhere very expensive, okay?”
    Ben had that odd expression again—the one Austin couldn’t decipher—but he nodded. “Sure. Sounds good. You pick the place.”
     
     
    T HEY ENDED up driving separately after Austin gave directions. Ben had a silver Camry that looked fresh from the car wash. He pretended not to be grossed out by Austin’s Rolling Rustomatic, which was nice of him.
    Austin had chosen a place called the Den, only a few miles from Sam’s, which was a bar that catered to an older and hairier clientele than Austin’s usual haunts. This early in the evening, the focus was on the food: a limited menu but big servings, reasonably priced.
    Once they were seated and Ben had a chance to take a look at the décor and the other customers, he looked alarmed. He leaned across the table and whispered, “Is this a bear bar?”
    With a barely controlled giggle, Austin nodded. “Mostly,” he stage-whispered back.
    “But—”
    “Don’t worry. They won’t kick us out for not being butch enough. Although… too bad you shaved so carefully this morning.” He stroked his own chin, which was covered in dark stubble. But Ben looked so distressed that Austin gave his arm a reassuring pat. “Really. Chill. It’s a good place.”
    Ben’s skepticism didn’t fade when their waiter came to the table. He had a full beard and bushy mustache and a prominent belly. He looked like he could bench-press Ben’s Camry, but he smiled widely as he handed them menus. “Get you boys something to drink?”
    “Just water,” Ben mumbled as if he expected the waiter to beat him up over it. When Austin ordered a Coke—he was driving—the big guy just dropped him a wink and said he’d be right back.
    “Do you come here often?” Ben asked. Then, apparently realizing what he’d just said, he laughed uncomfortably. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to degenerate into clichés.”
    “It’s okay. And this isn’t really my scene, so no. But I know a couple of guys who work here, so I’ve been by a few times. To eat, not to pick up anyone.”
    “Oh.” Ben buried his face in the menu.
    When their hirsute waiter returned, Austin ordered a bacon guac burger with onion rings. Ben opted for a beef dip sandwich, which made the waiter utter a bad double entendre that caused Austin to snicker. As they waited for their food, a slightly awkward silence descended. When Austin couldn’t stand it anymore, he asked a question. “So, um, where do you hang out? When you’re not nose-to-the-grindstoning, I mean.”
    “Home, mostly,” Ben said quietly.
    “Yeah, but when you go out?”
    “There’s a great coffeehouse near where I live. I go there a couple of times a week. They have comfy chairs.”
    Okay, but that wasn’t what Austin meant. “Clubs, I mean. Bars. You know.”
    Ben stared across the room at a faux-stone fireplace with a selection of underwear hanging from hooks over the mantel. “I don’t really…,” he murmured, not finishing the sentence.
    “Oh. I get it,” Austin said, although he didn’t truly. Ben was cute, and he’d apparently been single for a while. Why live like a hermit? “Do you use apps instead?” Ben didn’t seem like the type to swap