On a Roll by Beth Bolden (best historical biographies TXT) 📕

thanks,” he said. “I’ll check them out. You guys both want the iced tea?”

“I definitely want the iced tea,” Gabriel said. He smiled at Sean. “And so do you, it’s fruity and not too sweet and fucking incredible.”

“Alright, then,” Sean said. “It sounds like I’ll want the iced tea.”

Mac laughed, and patted Sean on the shoulder. “Gabe here won’t steer you wrong.”

When Mac went off to grab their drinks, Sean asked, “Where did you meet him?”

“He had a food truck, at first, right when I came to LA,” Gabriel said. “He was a kind of mentor to me, when I was first getting started. And then he got this place, and got out of the truck business.”

“Is that something you’d ever want to do?” Sean wondered.

“No way,” Gabriel said with an emphatic shake of his head. “Luca, my brother, he’s in charge of the family business back in Napa, and I’m not interested in being his little bitch.”

Sean raised an eyebrow. “He’s a little overbearing, sometimes,” Gabriel explained. “You know how older brothers can be.”

“I don’t, actually,” Sean admitted. “I don’t have any. Or any younger ones, either. Just me and my mom.”

“You were better off,” Gabriel said, leaning closer. “I felt like I was suffocating. Too many brothers and sisters and relatives.”

“Maybe.” Sean wasn’t convinced. But he could see Gabriel’s side of it, and he could see how growing up in the middle of so many people, all of whom had a vested interest in you being a certain way, would make being your own person hard.

Sean could see that he was still struggling with that. Still reliant on Nonna’s recipes. Still uneasy about his own obvious skill. Still hesitant to make his truck his own.

“What should we get?” Gabriel said, changing the subject, which Sean was fine with. They’d not argued at all, except for a little friendly, flirty banter when they’d been wandering the aisles of the supply stores.

“God, everything looks amazing,” Sean said, which was true. He was still skimming the appetizer section of the menu, trying to decide if he wanted the Korean barbecue gyoza or the avocado egg rolls.

“Can I . . .” Gabe stammered. “Can I make some suggestions? I know Mac said I’d take good care of you, but I would.”

Sean knew it was true; he’d never doubted it for a second. And that was a development that made him squirm uncomfortably in his chair.

“Of course you can,” Sean said, nudging him with a grin. “I was hoping you would. Otherwise I’m going to order everything on this menu and gain fifty pounds.”

Gabe shot him a cocky look that Sean swore a year ago had been completely unattractive, but now made his blood race. “I think we can work it off,” he said.

“What should we order, then?” Sean felt eager, almost gluttonous. And not just for the food.

———

It was so sexy to see Sean like this: open and laughing and eager.

When he’d first arrived in Los Angeles, and they’d met, Gabriel hadn’t known what Sean was dealing with. Nobody had known. But looking back, Gabe could see the effects of his grief. He’d been quieter, more withdrawn, a smile coming way less readily to his face when someone said something funny. He’d been suffering, and Gabriel hadn’t even known. Had probably thought—and definitely said—more than one unkind thing, all because he hadn’t had a clue what Sean was dealing with.

But over the last two years, he’d begun to come out of his shell. He’d formed friendships, he laughed now, just as easily as breathing, and he was vital and vibrant and so alive that Gabriel found he couldn’t even tear his eyes away.

“Fine, I guess,” Sean said with a laugh. “I guess we can get the drunken noodles, if you insist.”

“Here’s the thing,” Gabriel said, “these aren’t just any drunken noodles, they’re life changing drunken noodles.”

Sean raised an eyebrow. “What if I’m not in the mood for something so drastic?” he wondered, a teasing lilt to the edge of his voice.

It was almost embarrassing how much Gabriel wanted him to be—and in the mood for not just life-changing drunken noodles, but for life-changing relationships.

He could hear Ren’s voice in his head, telling him not to screw this up, and Gabriel knew that he couldn’t. That he shouldn’t. But with every day that went by, it felt worse to not tell Sean the whole truth. That they’d never just been hooking up. That Gabriel had more feelings than he knew what to do with. That the friendship—and everything else—developing between them felt like the most important thing in his life.

Most of all, that he should have changed his truck’s name the morning after Sean had told him why he couldn’t.

After they put in their order—including the drunken noodles—with Mac, Sean leaned back in his chair, an expression of bliss on his face as he sipped his iced tea. “You’re looking rather serious,” he said.

“Food this good requires contemplation,” Gabriel said.

“You should do something like this,” Sean said unexpectedly.

“What, open a restaurant?” Gabe laughed. “If I wanted to do that, I’d just go beg for a job back from my brother.” Which sounded terrible.

“No,” Sean said. “Some kind of fusion stuff. You’ve got the chops, you know, you could do it.”

“Fuck with Nonna’s recipes?” The very idea felt sacrilegious. Luca would come down from Napa and murder him. Slowly. Nonna would probably return from the grave to cheer Luca on.

“See?” Sean said. “That’s exactly what I mean. Was doing what we did with the Thai wrap, fucking with her recipes? No, it was using her meatballs to make something different. Something awesome. I think there’s no greater compliment out there than putting your own spin on something.”

“You don’t think I should make meatball hoagies anymore?” Gabriel was incredulous. He’d made his reputation on those sandwiches. They were praised, all over the city. People came from an hour away when they were craving one. And yet, at the very same time, the idea of being