Chapter 7

The waitress left them each an icy cold bottle of root beer, and Mitchell grabbed his and took a long drink. Craig was fascinated by the way his Adam’s apple moved and couldn’t tear his gaze away from Mitchell’s neck.

“Craig?”

Shit. Busted. His cheeks heated as he stared across the table at Mitchell and tried to school his expression. “Yeah?”

“You okay? You looked a thousand miles away.” Mitchell raised his right eyebrow and watched him.

Craig always wondered how he did that. He couldn’t raise just one eyebrow. He’d tried, but it always ended up being both.

“Craig?”

Fuck. His mind was wandering. He grabbed his bottle and gulped down some soda before responding. “Sorry.” He set the soda back on the table. “Guess I was just zoning out.”

“Good root beer.”

Craig met Mitchell’s gaze and nodded. “Yeah.”

Mitchell narrowed his eyes. “Out with it.”

Craig’s heart stammered. “Out with what?”