The cocktail menu was eight pages, leather-bound, with prices to match. When the bartender managed to stop mixing drinks long enough to take their order, Nate asked for a Negroni and Aubrey an Aviation, and then Nate asked for a plate of the bacon-wrapped dates to start.
Aubrey raised an eyebrow.
“Hardly anyone has food right now,” Nate pointed out. “It’s early. Kitchen’s just getting started. We’re going to be here a while.”
“Yeah, I know. The eyebrow was for your selection.”
Oh, were they going to give each other a hard time at dinner too? Fine by Nate. He rolled his eyes gamely. “Hey, you don’t have to have any.”
“Let’s not be hasty. I’ll try anything once.” Aubrey batted his eyelashes.
“Now why doesn’t that surprise me.”
Aubrey flashed a sly smile. “Can’t just do the same thing over and over. What fun would that be?”
Just then a raucous crowd of thirtysomething guys behind Aubrey laughed uproariously, making him flinch. He leaned forward, a tactical error as the loud group took it as an opportunity to invade their space. Aubrey spared them one annoyed glance before hitching his stool closer.
If that group spread out any more, they’d push Aubrey into Nate’s lap.
That would be awkward.
“If you wanted to fight them for it, you think you could take them?” Nate meant it as a joke, but hearing himself, it sounded weirdly like innuendo.
Aubrey pursed his lips, as if considering. “Maybe the big one in the blue shirt, but I’ve had better.”
Nate’s eyes widened. “I meant—”
“Aviation and Negroni,” the bartender interrupted.
“Thank you!” Aubrey chirped. “Hey, can I put in an order for those truffle-oil fries with the banana ketchup? I’m intrigued.”
“Sure thing.”
“Banana ketchup,” Nate repeated. “That sounds….”
“Both disgusting and kind of dirty?” He grinned and hooked his feet around the bar rail. “I know, that’s why I ordered it.” For a second, Nate thought he’d escaped their previous conversation, and he couldn’t decide whether he was relieved or disappointed. But then Aubrey went on as if they’d never been interrupted, “What about you?”
Nate’s throat went dry, so he picked up his drink. Even in his shock he could tell it was expertly made, the perfect balance of sweet and bitter. Strong too. He licked his lips afterward and cleared his throat. Still dry. “What about me, what?”
Aubrey gestured at the party behind them. “You had better than blue-shirt guy?”
Damn it. Nate’s ears went hot. Fortunately the restaurant kept the lighting dim. Aubrey probably couldn’t tell. “I’ve never had blue-shirt guy. How do I know what he’s like in bed?”
“Oh come on.” Aubrey bumped his shoulder. “Guy like that? You can definitely tell. He probably shaved again tonight before coming out to dinner. His shoes are gleaming, even though there’s six inches of snow on the ground. He’s eating french fries delicately. With a fork. Completely avoiding the banana ketchup, I might add.”
“Maybe he’s allergic,” Nate said, half in defense, half amusement.
“Maybe he’s a priss who doesn’t like getting his hands sticky.”
“Sounds like he’s not your type.” Nate was pretty sure Aubrey would tell him what his type was, and Nate wasn’t quite comfortable with why he wanted to know.
“He’s in good shape—the type who treats his body like a temple.” Aubrey rolled his eyes. “I’m with Tony Bourdain. Your body isn’t a temple. It’s an amusement park; enjoy the ride. I mean, I like to look good, and I appreciate a guy who puts in the effort. But I also like a man who knows when to cut loose and have a good time. But maybe he’s your speed?”
What? Aubrey thought he’d be into loud and big and obnoxious in public, not to mention apparently bad in bed?
“How do you figure?” Nate snapped.
“Well, big and dumb is probably pretty plentiful in the NHL, and I guess there were a few that would let you tap it in, so to speak.”
