Chapter Three

Lance yawned, stretching his arms high above his head. With bleary eyes, he looked over at the clock. It was just a little past four in the afternoon. He’d been asleep for nine hours.

After getting home at four, he’d waited up for Richie. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes open. Finally at seven, he’d climbed into bed and let exhaustion take him.

Lance shuffled into the kitchen to find it spotless. Since Richie was a chef, the kitchen was the one room he kept spotless. Judging from the freshly washed dishes in the drainer, he’d already cooked and cleaned everything up.

Turning, he looked at Richie’s door, expectantly. It was standing wide open, but there were no signs of his roommate. With his already glum mood turning darker, Lance made himself a quick sandwich and walked back to his room. He had a ton of studying to do and standing around hoping Richie would walk in wasn’t doing him any good.

Hours ticked by, and the only thing Lance seemed to accomplish was thinking about Richie and how clueless he was. Okay, it wasn’t his fault if the guy he was crushing on was straight. He just had no idea how to approach that subject, considering that Richie wasn’t just his roommate but his best friend. There were fine lines placed in front of them on purpose. If Lance happened to trip and stumble over one, it could really upset the balance of their entire friendship. That just wouldn’t work. If the only way he could have Richie was as a friend, then that was something he was just going to have to accept.

With an exasperated sigh, Lance slammed his book shut and squeezed his eyes shut. It was already close to eight, and Richie still hadn’t come back. Feeling restless, he took a quick shower and dressed in a pair of jeans and a hoodie. He needed a couple of drinks and some air.

After grabbing his wallet and keys from the table, he left the apartment. If Richie wasn’t going to be home, then Lance sure as hell wasn’t going to be waiting around for him like some desperate stalker.

Thankfully, his favorite bar was just around the corner. The Double Rainbow was as cliché as they came, but the vibe and atmosphere were great. He usually spun there a couple times a week. It was one of his steady, better-paying gigs. He nodded to the doorman and stepped inside. The air was thick with various colognes and hair products.

It wasn’t very crowded. Sunday nights weren’t typically big in the club scene. Most people were recovering from Friday and Saturday nights and preparing for the upcoming week.

Lance climbed onto the stool in front of the bar and ordered his drink before turning and listening to the small band. They weren’t bad. He sipped his drink and bobbed his head in time to the music.

“Hey.”

Lance stiffened at the sound of a familiar voice. Swallowing, he turned and found Kevin leaning against the bar. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a vintage Aerosmith t-shirt. He wore a pair of plastic-framed black glasses that made him look a bit like a hipster. That had actually been a running joke between the two of them during their relationship.

“Hey,” Lance said, finally finding his voice.

“Can I sit?”

Lance nodded and scooted to the side a bit as Kevin sat down. After ordering his drink, he turned and looked at Lance. “How ya been?” he asked.

“Doing okay. Just been working and studying, ya know. You?”

There was no denying the fact that there were still feelings between them. They’d always been good together.

Kevin took a drink of his Long Island Iced Tea and nodded. “About the same. I got the promotion at the firm.”

“Really? That’s great!” Lance said, genuinely happy for him.

Kevin nodded. “Just one more notch closer to partner.” Kevin had graduated and started work in the real world two years before. Lance had always jokingly called him his sugar daddy, bringing home the bacon to his younger boyfriend.

“I’m happy for you,” Lance said, pulling him in for a hug.

“Hey, why don’t we go dance—for old time’s sake?”

Lance hesitated. It was a slippery slope for him, and he knew the breakup was still fresh for both of them. Then he thought about how Richie ditched him for a girl the night before and disappeared. Why should he pine away for someone who was oblivious? He tossed back the rest of his drink and shrugged.

“Sure, why not?”

When they moved out onto the dance floor, it was awkward at first, but then Lance remembered how much fun they used to have together and he relaxed allowing the music to sweep him away. He would just enjoy hanging out with Kevin and not let it go any further. At least that’s what he told himself.

***

Richie shuffled into the kitchen in search of coffee. His first class was in forty-five minutes, and if he didn’t get his ass into gear, he was going to be late. However, coffee was a must. If he didn’t have caffeine, there was the very real chance that he would lose his finger while slicing something.

After setting the machine and listening to it bubble and gurgle to life, he turned and looked at Lance’s closed door. What time had he finally made it in? The last time Richie remembered looking at the clock, it had been close to one. It was unlike Lance to be out late on a Sunday night. In fact, Lance rarely went anywhere on Sundays. They usually used the day to hang out and watch movies and load up on carbs.

Guilt tugged at Richie’s conscience. He’d bailed on him at the rave Saturday night in order to hook up with Addison—a disaster that was more than just a little embarrassing. His cheeks flushed when he thought about finally getting back to her place. He’d been so hard up and ready for her, but as soon as things began to get hot and heavy, there were certain malfunctions in the equipment department. They’d tried several times, but nothing had happened.

Too embarrassed to go home, he’d crashed on her couch until early and then snuck home. Even now, as he thought about his shortcomings, his cheeks burned. Feeling like he owed Lance an apology, he poured another cup of coffee and crossed the room.

He pushed the door open and his eyes grew wide and something stirred in the pit of his stomach. Heat climbed his neck. Lance was sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his hands and his head tossed back. His lips parted as moans of pleasure slipped through.

In front of him, Kevin’s head bobbed up and down. There was no mistaking what was going on.

Richie must have made a sound because Lance’s eyes snapped open and his head jerked to the door.

“Shit,” he muttered, pushing Kevin away and standing up.

“I—I didn’t… I didn’t know you had c-company,” Richie stammered as he backed away.

Kevin climbed to his feet, pulling his boxers on, a dark scowl across his face. “Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?” he snapped.

Richie frowned at him. “What the fuck are you even doing here?”

Kevin’s hands rested on his hips. “What does it matter if I’m here or not?”

Lance wrapped a sheet around his hips and stared at Richie apologetically, but Richie’s eyes were locked in a staring match with Kevin.

“Well, considering you two broke up, and you were a dick to him, I just didn’t figure I’d be seeing you,” Richie snapped back.

Kevin’s eyes widened. “What?” He looked at Lance and then back to Richie. “What the hell are you talking about? What did you tell him, Lance?”

Lance sputtered for a moment, but before he could answer, Kevin began jerking on his clothes. “You know what, don’t bother. I knew coming here last night was a mistake, but I thought, just maybe, you had reconsidered our breakup.”

Lance crossed the room, glaring and slamming the door in Richie's face before Kevin could leave. On the other side of the door, he heard muffled voices. What was going on? How on earth could Lance be back together with Kevin? What the hell was that about, the “what did you tell him” thing? It was all very confusing.

Irritated, he walked back to the kitchen and placed the coffee cups back on the counter. A few minutes later, he heard the front door open and then slam closed, and a few minutes after that, Lance marched into the kitchen. He wore a pair of flannel pajama bottoms and nothing else.

For the first time ever, Richie noticed how muscular Lance was. His chest was chiseled, leading down to rows of tightly corded abs. His pajama bottoms rested low on his hips, revealing a deep ‘V’ of muscles that disappeared beneath the elastic band. There was a tattoo in Latin running along his ribs. He had an amazing physique.

Suddenly, Richie’s mouth felt like the desert and there was a bizarre fluttering in the pit of his stomach. He cleared his throat but didn’t say anything.

“What the hell was that about?” Lance demanded.

Richie frowned. “What was what about?”

“What was with the dick way you acted with Kevin?”

His eyes widened. “You’re kidding me, right?”

Lance crossed his arms tightly over his chest. It was a clear gesture saying that he was most certainly not kidding.

“You said the guy treated you like shit. Those were your exact words and here you are getting it on with the guy.”

Lance’s throat worked as he swallowed. “And?”

“From what I just saw… that doesn’t look like a guy who treated you like shit. In fact, from the look of surprise on his face… it would appear quite the opposite.”

“It’s none of your business,” Lance said as he moved around the counter and picked up the cup of coffee.

Richie frowned. “What the hell? You told me you guys broke up and he was a dick, then I find him in there on your dick as if nothing ever happened. Why would you even bring him here?”

Lance took a step back. “Because I live here, and the last time I checked, we didn’t have to check in with each other about who we come home with—or don’t come home with.”

The words hung heavily in the air between them, causing Richie to frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Lance’s sharp gaze pinned him with a frigid look. “You tell me.”

“Well, I’d love too, if I had any idea what the hell you were even talking about.”

“You ditched me… at the rave. You left to get us drinks and then you never came back. I saw you leave with Addison.”

“You’ve never cared if I left with a girl before,” Richie defended.

“But we were supposed to be hanging out.”

“I realize that, but—”

“But what? I wasn’t worth your time? What, Richie?” Lance all but yelled at him.

“I don’t know!” Richie yelled back. He blew out a sigh and raked his hands back through his hair. Taking a deep breath, he tried again. “I just think you can do so much better than Kevin.”

“And I think you deserve better than someone like Addison,” Lance returned.

They stared at each other in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. The conversation had gotten very weird, very fast. Lance opened his mouth to say something when his phone buzzed on the counter.

Picking it up, he scowled down at the unfamiliar screen. “Hello?”

Richie watched Lance’s face go from scowling to smiling in two seconds. “Seriously? For real? That’s awesome. Thank you. Thank you so much.” When he disconnected the call, he looked up at Richie.

“What was that about?”

“I just got the gig at the Ithaca Festival.”

“No way!” Richie exclaimed.

“Seriously. I guess the event coordinator was at the rave the other night and heard me. He called Jerry down at the Rainbows and got my number.”

Excitement rolled off Lance in waves, and it was hard not to be excited for him. The Ithaca Festival was one of the largest events in New York. It was something all disc jockeys dreamed about getting. He felt pride welling in his chest for his friend.

“Dude, that is seriously awesome. I’m stoked.”

“We should celebrate. Tomorrow night, my treat. Tonight, I have to cook for class.”

Lance nodded. “That’s cool.”

For a long moment, they stared at each other—their argument from earlier seemed to be placed on the back burner. Both could feel the subtle shift in their friendship but neither knew exactly what to make of it. Something seemed to be building just beneath the surface. Richie decided to go with what he felt and took a step in and hugged his friend tightly.

“I’m proud of you,” he said. There was a startling zip of electricity that zipped through him as their warm skin touched.

Richie took a step back and cleared his throat. “Well, I need to get ready for class,” he said after several long silent moments.

“Um, yeah,” Lance said clearing his throat. “I need to get going too.”

“Okay, we’ll talk later.”

Lance nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

Lance walked to his room and Richie did the same. With his door closed, Lance looked at the wall that stood between the two rooms. What had just happened? Had Richie actually been jealous earlier? Was that a kiss moment they just let pass them by? A flutter of hope moved in his chest and in the pit of his stomach. Maybe, just maybe, Richie wasn’t as hetero as he thought he was. The roller coaster of fighting with him and then the excitement of getting a great gig had his nerves on edge.

***

Richie walked into the kitchen in the culinary department. It was completely empty. He loved being in the kitchen alone and ready to create. It was project time in the world of culinary students, and he wanted to make the best thing he possibly could for his teacher. After class, he’d rented the space out for a few hours to give him the time he needed.

He'd learned to cook from his mother and older sisters at a young age, it was something he could be proud of. They’d taught him the old traditional Italian way and he’d modernized a few things—much to his mother’s horror. After she tasted it, though, she approved. Over time, he taught himself how to cook all different things, and now he was honing his craft every day as he went to classes for it.

It was always Richie’s plan to wow those who tasted his food. He cooked for Lance once in a blue moon, and he told him it was fantastic, but he felt like Lance would have said that no matter what. Kinda like an old married couple, and the guy knew better than to say anything negative.

The assignment was to prepare a meal for your favorite celebrity. It had to be three courses you thought your favorite celebrity would like. Richie loved Robert Rossi. He was Italian like him and in some of his favorite movies—Dames and Wiseguys being the tops. He had no clue what to feed the man.

Something Italian seemed to be the best choice, but it also was the obvious choice.

In the movie, they made spaghetti. Rossi’s character wasn’t there, but it was a big part of the movie in a few spots. He’d make his mother’s famous pasta with a delicious robust sauce with all fresh ingredients, but he didn’t know what to make for the other three courses.

This counted for most of his grade, but it was also a point of pride. Making a meal for his hero would be the ultimate culinary dream. It had to be perfect. He got to work mixing and cooking. His concentration was completely on the food. He’d taste and add something here and there. In the end, he’d prepared delicate crab and cheese stuffed mushrooms basted in olive oil and a white wine sauce, a large pot of pasta with a tomato sauce of garlic, shallots, basil, and a host of other Italian favorites and some cannoli. One single cannoli and it wasn’t how he wanted it.

Before he knew it, almost three hours had gone by and the second cannoli was also pissing him off. He packed up the mushrooms pasta and sauce hoping Lance would be there and that he was hungry.

He texted Lance. Don’t eat dinner, I’m bringing my failure.

The kitchen smelled delicious and he inhaled one more time before turning off the lights.

“What you have there?” a small voice called out as he started out of the door.

It was Addison, and she was smiling at him like he hadn’t slept with her and not called, so he was a little relieved.

“I didn’t hear from you.” She walked up to him and ran a finger up his chest.

“Sorry, I just—” He started to make an excuse, but she stopped him.

“It’s okay, who’d you cook all that food for?”

“Robert Rossi,” he said without thinking.

She laughed. “Okay, if you don’t want to tell me, then don’t.”

“No, it’s an assignment. We have to cook for our favorite celebrity and that’s who I chose, but my cannoli came out all wrong.”

“You want to invite me to dinner?” Addison was a confident girl and she had no problem going after what she wanted. He was supposed to be having dinner with Lance, but he didn’t see any reason she couldn’t come too.

“Yeah, come to dinner at my place. I’ll show you how good I can cook.”

“Lead the way, chef.” Addison was super-hot and the only girl he’d been really into in a while. Still, he didn’t find himself wanting to sleep with her again. That’s why he’d invited her back to his place. If she was eating, she couldn’t try to seduce him, and with Lance there, she might not try.

When they walked in, Lance was waiting. He’d set the table up for two and had even opened a bottle of wine. His face fell when he saw Addison, and Richie noticed.

“I brought Addison to eat with us too,” he said. “I had so much food we couldn’t eat it all. I didn’t do a desert, but I could always call around to Sugars. They have the best cakes in town.

Lance stopped and swallowed for a moment.

“Yeah, why don’t you do that? I’ll go pick it up.”

Richie approached the kitchen, and Addison eased in behind him. She said nothing as she felt an uncomfortable silence and unspoken words between the two. Richie went about tending to the meal. Addison soon began to realize she was in the way. She decided to take a seat in the living area and wait.

Lance placed the call to Sugars and headed into the kitchen. Once he felt they were not going to be heard, he spoke up. “I thought we were just going to be eating tonight. I didn’t know you were bringing company.”

“I know, but she ran into me at the kitchen. It was right after I texted you.”

“You mean she stalked you there. She doesn’t know the first thing about the culinary department.”

“Why would she stalk me there?”

“What possible reason would she have for being at the kitchen at this hour? She’s not a culinary major.”

“Maybe the aroma of my food pulled her in?” Richie was only half serious. It did smell incredibly good.

Lance rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right. Look, I’m going to pick up the cake. Chocolate, five layers, with raspberry filling, right?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Lance grabbed his keys and wallet as he stormed out the door. He couldn’t believe that Addison was in their home and having dinner. As if things were not awkward already enough between them. Now this woman had been thrown into the mix. She obviously had other intentions or she wouldn’t have tracked Richie to the kitchen.

Lance made the turn and found a place to park. Sugars used to be a cookie shop until the owner decided to retire and enjoy the warm life in sunny Florida. Alice Sugar bought the place and turned it into a dessert dynamo. She had attended the culinary school as well, and her talent for desserts was well known by all. Her talents in fondant were phenomenal and she was often booked solid during the wedding and holiday seasons.  

Lance strolled over to the counter to receive his order.

“Hey there. Haven’t seen you in a while.”

It was the master herself, Alice. Lance adorned a smile and appeared as upbeat as he could.

“Yeah, well, I put on twenty pounds after a week of your lemon cupcakes and chocolate cookie sandwiches.”

Alice chuckled and rang up the order.

“I can’t help that. But I’m glad you came back. And for five-layer chocolate raspberry at that. Special occasion?”

“Oh, Richie is up for his finals, and we’re eating the meal that didn’t turn out so good.”

“I hear good things about Richie. Tell him I have a space for him upon graduation.”

“Yeah, he’s good, I don’t know if he wants to do just desserts.”

“Oh, no, I’m thinking of putting a crew together for an upscale Italian restaurant, and Richie is at the top of the list.”

“Oh, wow, I’ll be sure to tell him.”

Lance paid for the cake and headed back to the apartment. Somehow, he managed to bury the ill feelings and now felt more prepared for the “three’s company” dinner.

Lance returned to a table set for three and Addison perched on one side while Richie set the plates.

“The cake has arrived.”

“Oh, good. Set that on the counter and I’ll get the stand.”

Richie dug out a glass cake stand that looked like something out of a Martha Stewart magazine. The cake cutter was also just as impressive. Lance found it funny he always wanted everything to be so fancy, even when it was just the two of them.

“Okay, everything is ready. Let’s dig in.”

Dinner was awkward if Richie had to describe it in one word. He made small talk with both Addison and Lance. Lance had thought he could handle the situation but clammed up and didn’t say much. Addison just tried to fit in and basically gave one-word replies. There was one thing they all agreed on and that was the food was delicious which made Richie very happy.

“It’s not Robert Rossi worthy, though,” he said trying to break the tension and make it easier for them to talk.

“What?” Lance was completely confused.

Richie went through explaining to Lance about the assignment and why he did it. Lance hung onto every word while Addison played with her phone. He was happy to have someone’s undivided attention when he talked about his passion.

“Oh, Richie, Alice said she’s eyeing you for a position in a new restaurant she’s thinking about opening. She’s heard about you.”

“When did she say that?” Richie’s eyes were wide as obvious excitement welled up inside.

“Just now when I went to pick up the cake.”

“If I pass, I’ll definitely give her a call.”

The guys continued to talk and the tension eased. However, Addison had other things in mind.

“Let’s go to your bedroom,” Addison said as they were finishing up. She had interrupted a funny story Lance was telling and it irritated him.

“Okay, let me clean up first,” Richie said thinking Addison didn’t waste any time. She was ready to get right down to business.

“I’ll get it, you two just go relax,” Lance said. His demeanor had changed and he started angrily throwing things into the sink. Richie figured it was because he’d once again ditched their plans for Addison, but he thought Lance understood. When one of them met someone, it was always the other’s job to help them seal the deal.

Once they were in Richie’s bedroom, he heard Lance slam his door. He wondered what was going on with his roommate.