“Obviously not.” Wolf’s eyes danced.
Chess, listening to Wolf’s opinions, evidently felt empowered to give his own. “Wolf is right. You want someone strong and loving, thoughtful and caring. Someone who will remember your favorite meal and know it without you reminding him. Someone who’ll make your tea in the morning the way you like it, or when you make their coffee, always say thank you. A guy who’ll celebrate that first month of dating because it gives them an excuse to do something special for you. We know what you want because we knowyou.”
After freshman year, the four of them had moved off campus and spent the remaining three years as housemates, and they’d become as close as brothers. And even though in the intervening years their lives had gone in such different directions, they were his family in every sense of the word. Spencer might drive him crazy, and Wolf kept everything bottled up inside, but they were always there for him. And all three men, it seemed, had their own opinions at the ready as to who was the right man for him.
Spencer scanned what he wrote, and ripped it up. “This is stupid. You sound like you’re looking for a puppy, not a man to satisfy you.” His blue eyes gleamed, and Elliot’s heart sank. He knew that look, and it never boded well for him.
“What I’m looking for isn’t your decision. I’m not like you.”
“Putting it mildly.” At Spencer’s hard stare, then subsequent smirk, dread trickled through Elliot. He watched as his friend started to write furiously. The occasional descent into maddening giggles only made Elliot want to punch him. Hard.
“What are you doing?” He swiped at the table to grab the paper, but Spencer was too quick. He usually was.
“Now this is a list.” Spencer waved the paper in his face. “If it won’t get you laid, I’ve lost all hope.”
“Will you shut up?” Elliot hissed, eyes darting side to side to see if anyone overheard him. “Give me that. What did you do now?”
Like he was showing off a winning hand of poker, Spencer set the sheet of paper in front of him and began to read.
Elliot Hansen’s Perfect Man:
Hung like a horse.
Messy, bedhead look.
Able to go hours in bed.
Abs of steel.
An ass of beauty.
That V (you know what I mean).
Piercings a plus. Tattoos even better.
Kind, sweet, good to animals and old ladies, blah, blah.
Romantic dinners, loves to watch sappy movies and eat popcorn on the couch.
Knows how to cook and fix things around the house a plus.
HAS A JOB!
With each word he read, Elliot felt his annoyance grow. “You’re an idiot. Maybe this is what’s important to you, but not to me. I mean, except for the last part.”
“Oh, bullshit. Tell me you don’t like a big dick. If you say no, you’re lying.” Before he had a chance to react, Spencer took a picture of the list. “Just in case you ‘happen’ to lose it, I’ll make sure to have a copy. And I threw in those last few to keep you happy.”
Smothered laughter reached his burning ears, and Elliot caught the eyes of the group of women sitting several feet away, staring at him and whispering among themselves. “Great. Now everyone knows I’m a loser.”
“You’re not a loser, Elliot.” Wolf, in another of his rare physical displays of affection, squeezed his arm. “You’re a nice guy. There’s a difference.”
“Yeah, sure. Nice guy. The kiss of death.” His stomach twisted, and a bitter taste rose in his mouth. All his life he’d been plagued by the label, and the only thing it had gotten him was an earful of promises and an empty bed. “I have to go. I need to fix my living room window. It won’t lock, and it keeps rattling.” He tossed out a couple of twenties. “Let me know if I owe you more.”
“Come on, Ello, don’t get upset.” Chess held on to his arm, but he shook his head, avoiding eye contact, and pulled away.
“I’m fine. Talk to you soon.”
Ignoring their calls to come sit with them again, Elliot left the restaurant and jogged to the subway station. Half an hour later, he walked through his front door. He could feel the breeze flowing in through the living room window, which wouldn’t stay closed, and though he’d told his friends he was running home to fix it, the truth was, he had no such intention. He planned to take a trip to Home Depot that weekend to talk to someone about it. When he’d bought the house from his parents, he had no idea caring for it took so much work. Too bad he wasn’t handy.
