“You’re going to think I’m crazy,” he confesses, leaning back in his chair, rubbing his hands up and down his thighs a few times.
I hold my finger and thumb apart in front of my face. “Maybe a little.”
He laughs, leaning forward across the table. “You weren’t supposed to be gay. I was going to sign up for the gym and just look. Reid and I were going to come here a few nights a week after work and I’d get my fill of staring at you and then I’d go home.”
“I think that’s the most honest thing anyone has ever said to me.” Dylan’s bluntness knocks me off kilter. My almost-career was filled with people trying to talk me into this-thing or that-thing, to sign this-contract or that-one. Even my agent had an agenda of his own. I became so jaded, I never knew who to believe.
“I’m not big on being lied to” he admits, and I file that away in the back of my brain. “Anyway, that’s why I was…”
“A jerk.” Without really thinking, or applying any kind of filter, I fill in the blank for him.
“I was going to go with asshole, but your version is much nicer.” We share a laugh.
“So, can I ask you something I’m still kind of confused about?” Dylan nods, a smug grin on his face. “If you liked what you saw, why did my being gay complicate things and turn you into, oh, let’s go with your word this time, an asshole?”
“Probably for the same reason menotbeing with Reid turned you into the same thing.” He’s quick with the comeback, which is accompanied by an arched eyebrow. “Care to explain that one.”
Shoving my sleeves up an inch or two gives me enough pause to come up with some kind of response that doesn’t totally sell me out, but at least allows me the opportunity to be honest. “You weren’t supposed to be single.”
“Oh.” His single word response puts us both on the same page.
“Yeah, ‘oh’.” I shoot him a look as another server passing champagne interrupts us.
When she turns away, I play on the “he likes honesty” card. “Now that we both know I’m gay and you’re single, what should we do about that?”
It’s impossible to deny the attraction between us. From the moment I met him, even in passing a week ago, I haven’t been able to shake him. I haven’twantedto shake him.
“Nothing.” His response is immediate.
After huffing a laugh across the table at him, I pitch my voice a touch lower. “Nothing, my ass, Dylan. I don’t know what your deal is, just as much as you don’t know mine, but we’re going to figure it out. You came here tonight…”
“I came here to apologize. That’s all,” he defends.
Calling his bluff, I say, “No, you didn’t. And I’m glad you’re here.” He looks surprised. “How’s that for honesty?” A stilted silence threatens, and I notice Rachel approaching with someone wearing a press badge. “Have dinner with me. This week sometime.” I stand from my chair, and bend so that my lips are close enough to his ear for me to lick it, if I wanted to. “That wasn’t a question, so don’t even think about saying no.” Dylan nods and I feel like pumping my fist in the air like I’ve just won a fight. Of course, I don’t have time for that, because Rachel is at my side the second I move away from Dylan’s ear.
“Conner, this is Kirsty Flemming, from the Elmira Daily News.” Rachel is bouncing with excitement. “She’d like to do an article about you and the gym. Do you have a few minutes to sit for an interview?”
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Michelson.” Kirsty weakly shakes my hand and offers up a sexy smile. I restrain myself from rolling my eyes as she arches her back slightly, pushing her breasts forward, offering them up like some kind of sexual sacrifice. Rachel notices it, too and shoots me the “deal with it” face she’s perfected over the years.
“I’d love to talk, Ms. Flemming. Let me just say goodbye…” But when I turn my attention back to the table where Dylan is supposed to be, he’s gone.
I look down at the phone vibrating in my hand, laughing at what I know is yet another text message from Reid. My suspicions are confirmed when I tap on the notification.
Don’t even think of not showing up.
Since I’m only a few minutes away, I don’t even bother responding. Walking into the Memorial Day barbeque less than five minutes late will be enough to shut him up. Since Lucy, Maddy’s adoptive Mom, just had Maddy’s graduation party at her house, Reid reserved a lakeside picnic area for today so that we could all get together.
After grabbing the groceries from my car, I walk over to the site. Music is playing; food is cooking; Braden is digging in the sand.
“You made it.” Reid sounds shocked.
“Will you chill the fuck out? Just because I’m running late doesn’t always mean I’m not going to show. Okay?” Playfully, but also to emphasize my point, I shove the six-pack of beer into his hands before squatting down next to Braden.
Before long, Reid and Bryan have a volleyball net set up. With my shoulder still not being completely healed, I choose to sit this one out. Braden is sitting in his booster seat on the picnic bench next to me, making a complete mess of himself with some cheese doodles.
“You look like an orange monster, buddy.”
“Raa-raa!” Braden mimics what a typical monster response would be. Hands up, fingers curled, in the standard “I’m gonna get you” pose and everything.
