Mike was a mature guy, but still struggled keeping a wide grin at bay. He needed a different approach with this pretty flower. “How did you know you like that stuff? It’s not typical for a guy.”
Arden stole a longer glance at him from under impossibly dark eyelashes as he stopped at the end of the line by a small coffee stand that also boasted that they sold bubble tea in bold letters. Mike wouldn’t admit it to his brothers, but his heart skipped a beat in response. Then again, this ritual of push and pull was familiar and always got him invested.
Everything inside him longed for an answer to his question, but Arden took his sweet time reading the menu and then ordering two drinks. He didn’t even ask Mike what flavor he wanted, and that display of confidence was both funny and endearing.
They sat at a pink table. An outlaw biker with a big milky drink in hand and a guy who wore a bra under his T-shirt. Someone could’ve said they were mismatched but Mike didn’t give two shits about someones.
“Got you the classic one, so you see what the big deal is,” Arden said and crossed his long, slender legs, instantly drawing Mike’s attention lower. But Mike was here on a mission, and he needed to focus.
“Are you dodging my question on purpose?”
Arden took a long slurp of his blue drink. “You know my sister actually. And yes, I’m going somewhere with this. Kaley?”
Mike stared. He was pretty sure he knew several Kaleys, but his mind didn’t produce any meaningful information. “Yeah…” He closed his mouth on the straw and sucked. The beverage tasted like milky green tea. Sweet and tasty but nothing out of the ordinary until drinking became more laborious, and a squishy ball shot into his mouth through the wide straw. Confused, he bit on it only to discover it tasted of nothing, but the texture added novelty. It wasn’t something Mike could see himself having often, but wasn’t terrible either.
“My parents died very young, and we didn’t have any other family around. Not close, anyway. But Kaley was already an adult, and she took care of me. She’s an exotic dancer, and I spent a lot of time around her friends when I was younger. They let me play around with their makeup and were generally very open. They helped me find myself within that, never judged me, and I’ve been through some terrible fashion phases.”
“Like… you stopped shaving your pits or somethin’?” Mike asked with a wide grin, his gaze drawn to the lush mouth pursed around the pink straw.
Arden kicked him under the table. “Dumbass. No, I wore these stupid-high stripper heels. Even got detention for it once when I had the not-so-smart idea to wear them to school.”
Mike’s imagination instantly produced the vision of Arden’s slender legs in heels and he might have salivated a little into his drink.
“Not anymore?”
“Not since I broke my ankle.”
Ouch.
“Oh right. Happened to one of my exes. She still wore them to bed though,” Mike poked, gradually attaching his tentacles to Arden’s pert flesh. The boy would admit to liking him within a matter of days.
But Arden glanced at his watch, as if the suggestion meant nothing to him. “And you’ll never know if I do.”
What. The. Fuck. Where did this stubbornness come from?
“So you wanted to be like strippers because…? You saw it attracted guys?”
He must have hit a nerve because Arden scowled and leaned back on the background of a fountain. “I don’t know. Did you become a biker because it attracts girls?”
Mike had to bite back a smile. So Arden did consider him attractive.
“Among other things. Why, you expect me to deny it? That Smokey vest”—he grabbed the rim of his cut and showed Arden the patches—“and the bike between my thighs are more of an aphrodisiac than chocolates and flowers.” He said and leaned in, placing his hand on Arden’s knee.
Arden slapped it away and got up. “You’re so shallow. Is that the only thing you care about in the world? Picking up girls and riding your bike? I know you’re playing some game here, and I’m onto you.”
Mike rolled his eyes behind Arden’s back, grabbed his drink, and followed him. “Yeah? And what do you care about? Are you writing the next great American novel? Rescuing puppies? Volunteering at a homeless shelter?”
“I… had plans.” He pouted and slurped.
Now that Mike knew about the lingerie, he couldn’t ignore the shadows of the straps under Arden’s T-shirt. Despite the boy’s standoffish attitude, he still wanted to see more of his flesh. Wouldn’t be the first mean girl he ended up dicking.
Only that Arden was male.
And there would be no dicking.
“What kind of plans? I hope they aren’t as focused on your own pleasure as mine, because that would cost you that claim to self-righteousness,” Mike said and put his arm back on Arden’s shoulders. Most people would just assume Arden was a girl anyway.
And score. Arden didn’t shrug him off this time.
“You’re so pushy. I know this is one big joke to you. I could have developed my own makeup line, or become an Instagram celebrity, but no, I’m stuck with your lot.”
Arden’s little rant was silly, but Mike still enjoyed the way Arden’s slender shoulders fit under his arm. None of his brothers needed to know he was having fun while he fought to win this bet.
Mike hummed. “Right, right. Makeup line and getting famous on your cuteness doesn’t sound shallow at all,” Mike said but gently squeezed the tip of Arden’s nose with his fingers to show he wasn’t being mean.
Mike would have watched Arden’s Instagram if it involved lingerie shots. Just out of curiosity, of course.
Arden sighed, his eyelashes fluttering like butterfly wings. “Okay, so maybe it wouldn’t be anything groundbreaking, but still more ambitious than getting laid.”
Mike snorted. “I don’t just ‘get laid’. I make the girls happy. There’s not enough true romantics left, you know,” he said as they walked past the food court and into a corridor that featured numerous stands in the middle.
There it was, he managed to squeeze a little smile out of the ice prince. “Oh I bet. Your promises of undying love until the next one comes along must mean a lot.”
Mike stilled, something in his brain jarring even when he made himself smile. “I don’t fall in love. But when I’m with a girl, I make sure she feels special, because in that moment, she is,” he said, and before Arden could have answered, Mike steered them to one of the stalls, which sold all kinds of fun accessories, from plastic jewelry to costumes. “Look at that,” he said, pointing to a pair of fairy wings made of wire and thin fabric in pastel shades.
Arden threw away his empty cup. “What about them?”
Mike did not need to share his idea. He pulled them off the stand, handed the seller a ten dollar bill and presented the wings to Arden, whose big, glinting eyes were slowly getting consumed by their pupils.
There. The appreciation he so enjoyed working for.
“For you, little fae,” Mike said with a wide smile.
“Are you calling me a fairy?”
Mike’s brain halted, but only for half a second. “You said it yourself that you’re a butterfly. I’m calling you an out-of-this-world cutie.”