Simon stood but Trevor didn’t move. He watched, though. He kept his eyes on Simon the whole time. “Come over tonight. I’ve been watching cooking shows on YouTube. I’ll make you dinner.”

Trevor leaned back, and let his legs stretch out on the steps. “You any good?”

“Nope, but I have a high-quality television. It’s good for more than just the internet.”

Trevor barked out a laugh. “You should thank the guy who took you shopping for it.”

But Simon didn’t. He only said, “See you at seven,” and then headed back to the small house.

Trevor didn’t move for a few minutes. He didn’t know what in the hell that had been about, or what caused the change of heart. Simon obviously hadn’t wanted to talk to him about the house.

Trevor knew he’d go tonight. There wasn’t a chance he wouldn’t go.

As soon as he made it back upstairs, Jason said, “Let me guess? You have plans tonight now?”

Trevor didn’t look at him when he replied, “He’s straight, you asshole.” And even though he had no business thinking it, Trevor wished he wasn’t.

***

At five after seven, there was a knock at Simon’s door. He pushed off the couch and went to let Trevor in. It’s funny how people being late bothered him, even if it was only a few minutes, yet it didn’t with Trevor.

“Hello.” Simon held the door while Trevor came in.

“I brought some wine.”

Simon felt his eyes go wide but saw the joke in Trevor’s. “You’re an asshole.”

“So I’ve been told. It smells good.”

“It probably won’t be.” Simon closed the door. “I made lasagna.”

“Fancy.” Trevor cocked a brow at him.

“Hey.” Simon grabbed ahold of Trevor’s arm when he went to walk away.

“Don’t.” Trevor shook his head. “It’s cool.”

Even though he shouldn’t, he accepted Trevor’s way out of an apology. He wasn’t very good at those anyway.

“Have you been running?” Trevor sat at the table.

“Yeah, I’m still at it. You?” It had only been a month since they hung out, but somehow it felt longer than that. Simon sat across from Trevor.

“Yep. I go early so I can get it in before work. Blake was going to start going with me but he never drags himself out of bed.”

“It’s funny how quickly I got used to going with someone else. The run feels longer on your own.”

Trevor shrugged. “We can go together again if you’re up for it. Like I said, I’m out there early. But it might be difficult. You’d probably have to come into town to go with me. It would be tight time-wise for me to drive out here, run, then go back home and shower before coming back for work.”

What the hell was with the tension in the air? It was awkward and stifling. Trevor didn’t seem to feel it, but Simon did. It reminded him of how he should have felt with Heather when they broke up and then spent time together. Only it never happened.

Broke up? What are you thinking, Simon?

The timer went off and Simon actually twitched. He felt completely out of his element here, but couldn’t put his finger on why.

“You okay?” Trevor’s forehead wrinkled when his brows pulled together like they did.

No, he wasn’t okay. He didn’t think. Or maybe he was. Really, he didn’t even know what they were doing here. Dinner was obvious, but he hadn’t had a plan when he’d gone to the house to talk to Trevor, yet here they were.

“I’m fine.” Simon stood and went to the stove. He pulled the lasagna from the oven, and then set out plates for them. The table was small, so they wouldn’t have room for it there.

A second later he heard Trevor moving around behind him. He pulled the tea from the fridge without Simon offering it to him, as though he felt that comfortable in Simon’s home.

They made their plates and poured their drinks without a word. It was only a couple minutes later that they were back in their spots at the table.

“Looks good.” Trevor dug into his lasagna and loaded his fork with a bite. Simon did the same, and then they both took a bite and... Crunch. “I think the pasta could have cooked a little longer.”

Shit. He knew this was a bad idea. Simon tried to finish chewing, but lasagna with half-crunchy noodles was not his thing. “What the hell? Why didn’t they cook?”

“Did you boil them first?” Trevor asked.

No.  Simon didn’t answer.