Al made a sound of derision. “That man would never lay a hand on you, and you know it. He’s not Derek the asshole.”
I chuckled. “True. He’s not an asshole at all. I thought I caught a hint of something when we went out on Saturday night, but nothing came of it.”
“What do you mean? And why am I just hearing about this now?” he asked indignantly.
“Mostly because I didn’t want to make a big deal out of nothing.”
“It’s not nothing if you’re still thinking about it three days later.”
I sighed. “Okay. When I walked into Watermark, he clocked me immediately and watched me the whole time. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought he wanted to eat me alive. Then he told me I looked nice. What straight guy does that?”
“None that I know,” Al commented. “What else? I know there’s more.”
“He came up to my apartment after we left the bar.”
“What? Miguel, I’m super pissed you didn’t tell me any of this before today.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I think I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to get my hopes up.” I blew out a breath. “I invited Zach to come upstairs to see the apartment, and he ended up helping me because I had more to drink than I should have. We chatted for a couple of minutes and then he went to leave. But it was weird because he hesitated and got all awkward. It looked like he was going to step closer to me, then he just gave me this little wave and high-tailed it down the stairs.”
“Oh, honey,” Albert said. “He is definitely questioning his sexuality.”
“Maybe,” I replied. “But I don’t want to be someone’s experiment. Not again.”
CHAPTERSEVEN
ZACH
I had no idea what to wear to a gay nightclub. I thought about calling Miguel to ask, but it was embarrassing. I was a thirty-year-old man. I should’ve known how to dress myself. Then my shoulders slumped. I wasn’t used to going to clubs, gay or otherwise. Most of my friends had faded away after high school, and I didn’t really get along with the guys I worked with. A lot of racist and homophobic bullshit spilled out of their mouths on a regular basis. More than once, I had to remind them my mother was half-Black. That would shut them up for a little while, but I was really tired of it.
Then there was Miguel. My friendship with him came as something of a surprise. I remembered the first time I’d seen him at his cousin Raphael’s wedding at Moonlight Inn. He’d just been hired as the assistant manager and had jumped in with both feet. He helped me set up the outdoor bar before the ceremony and then helped keep things running smoothly after. I remembered being surprised by the makeup, but I thought it suited him. He’d seemed shy at first. But then I’d realized he was making sure he could trust me not to be an asshole toward him before he let his guard down. The fact that I found myself looking for him when I came into work and tracking him when he walked into the dining room was still a puzzle to me.
Our night out at Watermark had been a lot of fun. I’d been pleasantly surprised by how much we had to talk about. And he never once put me down for not going to college or being a mechanic.
I sighed and went to my closet. I had a few nice shirts and pairs of pants saved for weddings and such. I pulled out a couple of shirts I thought might work but then put them back, still unsure. I knew I would have to bite the bullet and call Miguel. I didn’t want to embarrass him in front of his best friend.
I pulled out my phone and hit his number. He answered on the first ring. “Hey, Zach. What’s up?”
I huffed a frustrated breath. “I don’t know what to wear tonight.”
There was a brief silence before he said, “Okay. Do you want some help with that?”
“It’s stupid. I should know what to wear. But I don’t go out to clubs.” I groaned. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered you.”
“It’s okay,” Miguel soothed. “How about I come to your place instead of meeting at Kim Marie’s pub? Then we can take a rideshare there together.”
“Are you sure? I feel like an idiot. But I don’t want to embarrass you in front of your friends.”
“Hey,” Miguel admonished. “You’remy friend too. I could never be embarrassed by you.” I heard movement on his end. “I’m going to finish getting ready. You’re in Bradley Beach, right?”
“Yeah,” I replied, overwhelmed by his casual acceptance.
“Okay. Text me your address, and I’ll be there in about half an hour.”
After I texted Miguel my address, I panicked. My place was nowhere near as nice as his. It was small and a little messy since my week had been hellish. I hurried to pick up the clothes I hadn’t bothered to put in the hamper and wash the few dishes in the sink. After that, I took a nail brush and some Gojo and worked to remove the grease that remained under my fingernails even after my shower.
I was drying my hands when I heard Miguel coming up the outside stairs that led to my apartment above my landlord’s garage. I went to open the door for him before he could knock. He wore the same coat as the night we went to Watermark, but it was buttoned up so I couldn’t see what he had on underneath. In contrast to what he’d worn to Watermark, his makeup tonight was bolder. His eyeliner was thicker and darker, and his gray eyeshadow had sparkling highlights. His already long eyelashes were further lengthened by a generous application of mascara. He looked amazing.
I must have stood there staring for too long because he cleared his throat. I hurriedly opened the door wider, feeling myself blush. “Come on in,” I said.
