“Bonita went into labor today, so Brannie and Juan asked me to split my shift,” he explains. “I invited Phin over to keep you company since it’s movie night. You’re going to watch The Hobbit because Phin’s never seen it.”
I try not to scowl at the tie as I put it into the complicated cafe knot that he favors. He enjoys the symbolism. “I’ll make that happen. Does he like popcorn?”
“Phin will eat anything you put in front of him, but I think you should make your peanut chicken.” His smile as he tilts his head back and closes his eyes reshapes my attitude as I finish the last tuck of his knot. Gael’s keeping Phin; so of course he wants me to make sure Phin wants to be kept.
“I’ll do that then.”
Gael grins happily as I step back, and it helps with the sourness in my throat. “He’s going to love it.”
He spins to grab his wallet and keys, then waves as he walks out the door. I don’t know how long it will be until Phin gets here, but if this past week is any indication, I’ve got about half an hour until he arrives, so I pull the chicken out of the fridge and start prepping. Even if he’s a little late, the meal will keep warm in the oven.
I work until Phin knocks, and I open the door with a damp dish towel in my hands. He peers at me confused for a moment as I step aside to let him in. His burly arm brushes across my chest as he passes me, and for a moment I wonder what it would be like to have that kind of strength. The flicker of a thought, just a passing vision of him tied up and on his knees, surprises me, but I push it away as quickly as possible.
“Gael told me to feed you and to watch The Hobbit with you. His coworker is having a baby and he’s covering her shift,” I explain, heading back to the kitchen to make sure my noodles don’t burn.
“I don’t have to stay,” Phin rumbles behind me.
I shoot a look over my shoulder as I stir the noodles in the saucepan. His shoulders hunch forward, and he stares down the hall like Gael might appear from the depths of my house. “I already cooked, and Gael will be disappointed if you’re not here when he gets back from his shift.”
I assume he’s returning after he’s done working.
Phin nods, and I turn back to my task, turning off the stove and taking the pan to the counter where I’ve set out a couple of pasta bowls. I pour Phin twice as much food into his bowl as I serve into mine, and I stick a fork in his, grabbing chopsticks for myself. I grew up using chopsticks, but I keep a couple of forks in my drawers for guests.
I hand Phin his bowl and nod to the sofa. He sits as far from me as he can and mumbles his thanks while I pull up the movie, and that’s the last words he says to me for the next six hours. We watchThe Hobbit, and then whenThe Fellowship of the Ringstarts playing, I hit the continue button since Gael won’t be back for a few more hours. I take Phin’s bowl to the sink, but he doesn’t notice. He’s on his phone, probably texting Gael. I don’t blame him, but since he’s not particularly interested in the movie, I make some popcorn and grab my translation work.
I have homework, and the background noise of the movie aids my concentration. I set the bowl of popcorn on the table in front of Phin and sit on the floor, pulling my laptop closer. While I work on translating, I place a handful of popcorn on a napkin and munch on it until it’s gone. I reach for another handful, finding the bowl gone. When I look up, Phin has it in his lap, and he’s smiling at his phone. I don’t need more, so I let him have it. I do, however, need some water.
Rising, I grab a couple of the reusable water bottles from my fridge and head back to the living room, offering Phin the bigger one I’ve started thinking of as his, since I failed to do that earlier. He stares at the water bottle for a full three seconds before taking it with barely a glance up and a grunt before returning his attention to his phone. At midnight, when Gael still hasn’t returned, Phin gets up, places his bottle into the dishwasher, and walks out the door with barely a wave.
I’m not sure what Gael had hoped for when he told me to keep Phin company, but I hope he's not disappointed that his boyfriend doesn’t like me. I?—
I can’t say I’m upset about that, or rather, I shouldn’t be. Phin doesn’t pay me any attention at all if he doesn’t have to, and that’s new for one of Gael’s romances. I like knowing that Phin is never going to choose me over Gael, but the dark part of me that realizes this means that eventually Gael will choose him over me makes me want to hurt the man. I might hate him. I don’t want to, I want to be a better man than this, but if this evening has shown me anything, it’s that Phin is the best partner Gael’s ever chosen, and I hate it.
Two Years Ago
Sin
Gael and I sit pressed up against each other from shoulder to calf, taking up space on a loveseat with a couple of girls on either side of us. There’s no room, but when we sat here, the girls hadn’t shown up yet to force us to share the small couch with them. The girl on my right is too drunk to talk to, so I ignore the yammering coming out of her mouth.
The girl on Gael’s left has had his full attention for all of three minutes. She’s his type physically—he prefers girls with curves—so when he talks into my ear over the din of the music, I’m not surprised by what he says. “She’s pre-law. I’m going to ask her out for ice cream.”
I look around him to get a better view of her and offer her my hand as Gael introduces us. “Velma, this is my Sin. Sin, meet Velma.”
She beams at me with a smile that belongs on a dentist’s billboard. “Sin? What’s your real name?” she questions, as if it’s any of her business.
“Caysin, but only my mother calls me that,” I reply as I let go of her hand.
Her smirk seems a little mean when she responds. “Caysin is better, less might-end-up-in-jail than Sin.”
If my career path works out the way I have planned, there’s the distinct possibility of ending up in a foreign jail. Embassy work isn’t always safe, and my specialties are Eastern and Middle Eastern languages. At least if I do get a job in a foreign country, I won’t have to deal with any more of Gael’s future ex-girlfriends. Velma is cute, but starting this relationship off by disregarding my name preference is going to get her tossed within two weeks. Less if I ask her not to call me Caysin and she does anyway. Gael won’t see it yet—he prefers to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. He’s looking at her like she could be the last girlfriend he ever has, but it won’t last.
I stand up, taking Gael’s mostly empty cup and mine over to the punch bowl where one of the fraternity’s pledges is serving people with a smile, wearing nothing but a jock strap. The rules for the house party are simple, and anyone caught violating them will be banned: the pledges serve the drinks and no one touches them. They’re all standing behind a line of tables with their backs to the wall just to make it easy to remember the rules, and I can’t say I’m not entertained by the strained smiles.
Eighteen months ago, Gael became the president of this chapter of the fraternity with me as his vice president. We instituted the rule that keeps the pledges safe while they’re doing shit they never would under normal circumstances, and I’m glad to see the new president is still enforcing it.
Gael’s voice stops me from taking the refilled cup back from the pledge. “Hey, you want to get out of here? Velma’s up for a little fun.”
I turn, brow arched when I see Gael and Velma with their fingers interlocked. She shoots me a coy little grin. “Come on, Caysin. I bet we can have some fun.”
