Nantes looks at me warily, swaying slightly. “Thanks.”
“More than that, I think you’re… well, you’re really attractive. I don’t have an issue saying that.”
He doesn’t say anything, but the look on his face says he wants to bolt.
“And we were so close. We obviously still are. I guess it feels kind of weird that you never thought about that with me, even though…”
“Finish that sentence, Van. Even though, what?”
“I’m straight.”
“Exactly. I’ve messed around with supposedly straight guys plenty of times, and it always ends the same. They won’t admit they’re queer, they won’t introduce me to family and friends. I’m not a real part of their life, I’m a secret, and I won’t do that again. In high school, there was just too much to lose. I wasn’t secure enough to even tell you, much less, what, offer to blow you?” He laughs darkly. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
“You’re right. But… what about now? We’re adults. I know you’re gay. Am I still just your loner, clingy best friend?”
“What do you want me to say, Van? That you’re hot? Yes, you are. Doesn’t change that you’re straight. Doesn’t change that we live in two different states. It doesn’t change anything.”
“Sorry. I guess the alcohol has really gone to my head.”
“It’s fine.”
“Can I tell you something?”
“Of course.”
“I think I was a little jealous tonight.”
He blinks at me like I just started speaking a language he doesn’t understand. “What?”
“The way you looked at the bartender, and that guy who was all over you. Before I walked up, you had thishungrylook on your face. I was gonna stay out of the way until I got the vibe from him, but, yeah, I was fucking jealous. I wanted you to look at me like that.”
Nantes stares ahead for a second before huffing a laugh. “Of course you were. You were like this in high school too, remember? You wanted all of my attention, all the time.”
Nodding, I rub my forehead. “Fuck. You’re right. We even fought about it a couple of times.” I put my hand on his thigh. “I guess some things never change.”
He turns and looks at me, and it’s like I’m seeing him for the first time. His face is perfectly symmetrical, his jawline sharp, and his eyes, even now, are bright and kind. His mouth though. How have I never noticed the fullness of his lips?
I move toward him, but he moves back, placing his hand on my shoulder. “Van, you’re drunk. Let’s go to bed, huh?”
“Or…” I lean in again. “Or you could let me kiss you.”
His brow creases. “Why would you do that?”
“I want to. I really fucking want to.”
“Those drinks were stronger than I thought.”
“That’s not a no.”
Nantes exhales slowly. “This is cute. It is. It’s fun, and honestly, it’s teenage me’s dream come true, but think about it, Van. Think about everything that could change with one small act.”
“Or not. Come on, Nantes, it’s you and me. How many years did we go without even seeing or talking to each other, and look at us—we picked right up where we left off. We can handle anything. Even a kiss.” I move a little bit closer. “You can fulfill teenage you’s dream. Maybe you’ll hate it.”
He laughs softly. “I’m more worried about you hating it.”
I nod, finally leaning back. As much as I want to, I’m not into coercion, and I’d rather miss out than make him feel uncomfortable or regret something.
“Sorry, sorry. You’re right. I’m drunk and I’m being weird and pushy. Let’s go to bed.”
