We’d already had hot dogs and were moving on to our dessert.

How can such a simple, boring date be so amazing and exciting?

Looking at James with his face nearly pressed against the glass while trying to decide which kind of ice cream to get for his third scoop, the answer was obvious.

Everything is better with James.

“I just can’t make up my mind, but toss some birthday cake in there. Fits the occasion.” He stood up and gave me a hug.

“Is it your birthday, sir?” the girl working behind the counter asked me.

“Tomorrow,” I replied, trying not to blush and wondering why I was doing it in the first place.

“Happy birthday. Ice cream is free for birthday boys. If you don’t tell, I won’t,” she said with a wink.

James fist pumped. “I still get credit for being willing to pay, right?”

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “Who said you were paying? The ice cream was my idea. My treat and don’t you say another word about it.”

James sighed and stomped his foot, pretending to be upset, but didn’t bother to challenge my statement.

For some reason it was important to me to pay for our meal. James had taken such good care of me so far, even dropping everything to help me with my car. Paying a few dollars for a couple of hot dogs and our ice cream was the least I could do to make myself not feel like a kept man. I hurried to hand my credit card to the girl.

The casual ease with which James shrugged it off and didn’t make it a big deal over who paid meant a surprising amount to me. It showed that even together, I’d still have independence.

Or something. I had no idea what I was telling myself. None of it made sense. But James had that effect on me.

When someone cleared their throat behind us, and we turned toward the sound, James squeezed my hand.

The voice belonged to a young man wearing a t-shirt with the college logo on it.

“Hi.” His eyes darted around the room.

Worrying that we were about to be pranked or worse, I scanned the restaurant, but we three were the only customers.

With a cheery voice, James said, “Can we help you?”

The guy cleared his throat again. He looked so young and nervous.

How did I manage to move out on my own at that age? Did I look that afraid of everything?

Shivering at the memory of my walk home in the dark the other night, I pushed the thought aside.

That was genuinely creepy. I certainly wasn’t afraid in the light of day back then.

“Are…I mean…shit. Are you a cop?” he finally managed to ask James. “You look familiar.”

“Yeah. I’m on...vacation right now, but I’m a cop. Can I help you?” James’ voice, while still friendly, had dropped into his cop voice. Calm and in control.

Sexy.

“Great. My name’s Doug. Well, I was wondering if you knew anything about the attacks on those guys on The Strip. I can’t get a straight answer,” Doug said.

“Not enough, unfortunately. If you have any leads, we’d love to hear about them. You can call the main office or talk to any of us cops.”

“It’s that fucking college,” Doug said.

James shot me a confused glance. “Excuse me?” he asked.

“The admins will cover up anything to keep it out of the news. I’ve heard of five students getting beaten bad enough to get sent to the hospital. All around the sports dorms where I live. We’re terrified over there, but will the college bring in outside help? No way. Fuckers.”

“Sorry. I don’t know anything about that.” James said, patting Doug on the shoulder.

Poor Doug looked close to tears. He said, “I’d transfer but after this summer I’ll just have two semesters left. I guess I’ll just keep my head down and stay home after dark.”

Doug turned to leave.

“Hey,” I said, my gaydar finally pinging. “Are you twenty-one?” When he nodded, I added, “Gay?” He nodded again, looking back over both shoulders. “If you want to get out some night, feel free to come down to The Firehouse on The Strip. It’s probably not much safer than anywhere else, but at least we can all band together, right?”

Doug nodded. “Yeah. That sounds great. I’ve been pretty silent about being gay. It wouldn’t really go over that well on the baseball team. But fuck it. Senior year, right?”

Doug finally smiled again before heading out the door.

James squeezed me tightly. “That was a good thing you did.”

“Experience, I guess. I’ve got the tire tracks on my soul to prove it. That’s pretty much how I found The Firehouse, you know. Trey took me under his wing pretty much the same way. I guess it’s just my turn. I’m a grown-ass man, after all.”

James smirked. “Where do you put the hyphen?”

“We’ll have to hurry up with our ice cream when it’s ready so I can show you.”

The silly banter was so effortless with James. I didn’t worry about sounding like a dork around him and it felt amazing to just say whatever I was feeling without worrying about being judged or tossed to the curb.

“Speaking of Trey. I really need to talk to him. There’s no way he doesn’t know something. I need to ask him some questions. Think you can set that up?”

I shrugged. “I’m not sure if he’ll be talking to me anymore, but I can give it a shot. I saw him the other day. He was way weird and bizarre. He definitely seems to think that those friends of yours, Rick and O’Brian, are involved in the killings somehow.”

“Bullshit,” James said, a rare thundercloud during our otherwise fantastic night.

I wasn’t in any mood to argue. “Probably. Trey seems pretty messed up, but you shouldn’t discount it just because you don’t like him. Trey knows the streets better than anyone.”

“Sorry. Of course I shouldn’t. But Rick and O’Brian? You know what? Fuck it. I’m not on duty tonight. We’ll think it all through some other time. Right now, I just want to focus on you.”

Just like that, the storm had passed. Still feeling a little edgy, but wanting to help keep the date positive, I stood on my tiptoes and gave him a peck on the lips. I gasped when James lifted me off the ground, but when his lips pressed firmly against my own, I wrapped my legs around his waist and my hands around his neck, and settled in for the more leisurely and passionate kiss that James delivered.

The ice cream girl cleared her voice before calling our names. “Your ice cream is ready, sirs.”

As I dropped out of his grasp, James laughed and said, “Sirs? Man, this place is making me feel ancient.”

We took our ice cream cones to one of the tables outside.

The shadows from the buildings covered everything as dusk approached.

“What do you want to do next?” I asked. “Dancing? Movie? Home?”

Ice cream dripped down over my fingers. Before I could find a napkin, James pulled my fingers into his mouth and slowly sucked them clean, teasing the fingertips with his tongue.

“Whatever you want, birthday boy,” he said.

“I think we should go home. We’re dressed completely wrong for the occasion.” I said while dipping my finger in my ice cream.

James’ eyes stared at my finger while he said, “But I thought you said I looked great earlier.”

I nodded and very slowly raised my finger toward my lips. James swooped in at the last second to suck it clean again.

My dick throbbed with need.

The hunger in James’ eyes was palpable.

“Oh, you do, James. But it’s my birthday party. We should have worn our birthday suits and spent the night blowing out each other’s candle.”

He snorted, but shifted in his seat. “I would love to see you in that suit. The only thing I’d like to see more is my dick in your birthday suit.”

I threw back my head to laugh. “That’s horrible, man. I mean, cute, I suppose, but it seems like you crossed into creepy there. You’ll have to try harder than that.”

“I can’t get any harder than I am right now, Evan.” He pulled my hand against his dick to prove the point.

“Oh my. We should get you home and take care of that medical condition,” I said, giving his thick cock a squeeze.

James gasped. “What do you have in mind, doctor?”

“Well, considering we don’t know what’s causing this to happen, we should start with a full body inspection. We’ll probably need to do some probing to get to the root of the problem, but I’ll leave no nook unlicked.”

James dipped his tongue into his ice cream and immediately kissed me, his chilled tongue a dramatic contrast to our hot-blooded desires. It took no time for the ice cream to melt on our tongues.

“It’s your birthday, so whatever you want, but I’m ready to go home if you are,” James said, shifting again in his seat.

“Sure thing,” I said. “After I finish my cone.” I took a slow lick around the base of the ice cream and sat back, pretending that I planned to take a long time finishing.

James growled in frustration, but didn’t say anything to rush me.

With a laugh, I said, “Relax. I can eat while we walk. Let’s go.”

James sprang to his feet before I’d even finished the words.