He looks at me with questioning eyes. “Yes. I think so.”
My heart fuckin’ flutters, and when I look up, Bubba’s smirking at me in the mirror.
“I think he’d want to go on a date with you too.”
Ezra’s eyes widen, and this small, gentle smile spreads across his face. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. I mean, probably.”
He chuckles softly before reaching over to the night stand and grabbing a picture of the three of us. He stares at it for a while, not saying anything at first. He traces the curve of my face in the picture, and it almost feels like his hand is on my cheek. God. He’s staring at me like I’m worth staring at. “Johnny.”
“Yeah?” I type by reflex, sending it before I can stop myself. I suck in a sharp breath. Ez hasn’t looked up, so I quickly type, “That’s the guy’s name, don’t wear it out,” but he looks up before I can hit send. His eyes widen, and for the briefest moment, he almost seems to smile. I smash the send button with my thumb, and as soon as it pops up, a disappointed look crosses his face.
“Listen, Daddy McSnack, I am a conundrum of confusion at the moment, spiraling deeper and deeper into the void of unfamiliarly unwelcome unrequited lust.” He pauses, shaking his head like he’s changed his mind. “No. I’m pretty sure it’s absolutely requited.”
“I don’t know what a lot of those words mean.”
“Neither would Johnny, I’m sure. That’s okay. It’s part of his charm.” Each time Ezra mentions my name, my heart races, because if he ends up putting two and two together, I’m completely screwed. Royally screwed, because Bubba would probably disown me from our friend group if he knew I’ve been catfishing the man of his dreams. Ezra raises an eyebrow at me. “It was weird though. When I read his cards earlier, I pulled the same ones I pulled for you. The exact same cards, in the exact same order.”
Fuck. Okay. We’re getting a little too close to the truth for my liking, so I deflect. “I guess that means, Johnny’s going to be meeting someone who’s going to rock his world, too?”
“Apparently. What if you’re the person he’s supposed to meet? I mean, it would make sense, you know, what with me giving you both the exact same reading.” He’s got this really weird look in his eyes I can’t read. “You would love Johnny. Maybe I could introduce you. Then you can cart him off into the sunset, out of my life and away from Bubba.”
The words sting, because while we ain’t exactly best friends, it doesn’t feel like we’re strictly enemies now, either, and I thought wemight reach, as he calls it, a peaceful place of coexistence. That ain’t the case, though. He’s still trying to find ways to get rid of me, and it makes my heart weigh heavy in my chest for reasons I don’t understand.
“Maybe we could even have a double wedding. That could be fun.”
“Double wedding? Like, me marrying another dude while you marry Bubba?”
His eyes bulge, and he shakes his head pretty forcefully. “I have no idea where that thought came from. I have no intention of marrying Bubba Jenkins.” He narrows his eyes and leans in closer. “If you value your life, you will forget I even mentioned it.”
As he rants, listing out the many reasons he didn’t mean to imply he would ever marry Bubba, I try to ease the pressure pressing down on my chest. I know he wants to get rid of me. I know I’m the man standing in the way of his happy ending, but I’ve got a story too. I’ve got one that deserves a happy ending just as much as his. I ain’t a bad guy. I don’t hurt people if I can help it. I may not be some twenty-something twink with a headful of hair and a body sculpted by God himself, but don’t I deserve to be loved, same as Ezra?
Ezra sighs through my earbud. “For fuck’s sake, Johnny.”
I jerk my head up, eyes bulging, because I know this is the moment he catches me catfishing him, and runs to tattle on me to Bubba. He’s not talking to me, though. He’s bending over, picking up the pair of underwear I left on the floor this morning. He carries them into the bathroom, preparing to put them in the hamper where they go, but stops only a few feet away.
He’s holding the underwear I wore to bed last night, staring at them like they hold all the secrets of the universe. “I’ve threatened to castrate him for this.” He looks into the camera and blinks slowly. “Daily.”
True. He even brought a pair of garden sheers with him last week. Scared me so fuckin’ bad I had to run and hide behind Bubba. I shouldhave been humiliated after the fact, but Ez didn’t shame me. Bubba made him apologize for threatening to cut my nuts off, and then he skipped away like I didn’t just make a complete fool of myself. He made it feel like it was natural. Like it was okay to be weird around him.
“Dammit, Johnny,” he mutters, and when I focus on his face, he’s staring off toward the sink. “Damn him. Damn him straight to the innermost pits of Louisiana.”
“Louisiana?”
He nods. “It’s literally hell on Earth, and Johnny deserves to eternally burn in its wretched flames for this.” Ez aims the phone at the fancy, mint-green hand towel he keeps telling me not to use. His finger comes into the frame, pointing at a large white speck. “That’s either Johnny’s toothpaste or his cum. Everyone else in this house knows not to touch my good towel. It’s from Bed Bath & Beyond. I bought it when I went to New York with the acapella group I used to be part of.”
“You sing?”
He shrugs, his cheeks flushing red. “I thought I could. Me and a few of my friends started a group. We thought we were good. We practiced so hard, but then we did a show at a prison, and they told us we were tragic. A few of them even laughed.” He sighs and stares down. “It was traumatizing.” He sniffles. “Everybody laughed at me.”
He’s never gone in-depth about his stint at Pretty Boy Prison, and he’s sworn Bubba, Dallas, and Austin to secrecy. Did the prisoners not like his singing? I mean, he ain’t going to winAmerican Idolanytime soon, but I think he’s got a real pretty voice. The thought of a bunch of prisoners telling him he sucks makes my heart hurt for him. He’s a prick, but he doesn’t deserve to be humiliated.
“I’m sorry. You sing on some of your older videos. I think you’ve got a real pretty voice, Ez.”
“Well, I’m glad one person thinks so. Bubba says he likes when I sing too, but Bubba basically worships me, and unearned praise is one of the many perks of being absolutely adored, so who the hell knows?”
“Well, this stranger likes when you sing too.”
