Page 24 of Wish We Were There

“Definitely,” Parker agreed. “So what are we working on today?”

Taylor had decided that instead of completely rebuilding the stage, they could replace the few pieces of wood that weren’t salvageable, cover up the missing pieces, then strip the remaining wood and refinish the whole thing. Most of it was still in decent shape, he’d found—it was just a few panels that were missing or too damaged to repair. Taylor had deep-cleaned the stage as best he could earlier that week, so they got to work pulling out the bad pieces, then sanding off the varnish on the rest of it—a painstaking process, especially with Taylor’s bad arm.

“Maybe I should have hired someone to do this,” Taylor groaned. They’d been at it for at least an hour, with not a huge amount of progress to show for it. After a beat, Parker had laughed nervously, then replied,

“It’s fine. The longer it takes, the more we get to hang out. Unless you’re trying to get rid of me?”

“That’s true. I’ll keep you around for now,” Taylor chuckled, nodding. Parker’s nervous smile broadened at his reply, which made his chest tighten with nerves all over again.

They couldn’t hear each other well between the masks protecting them from all the sawdust muffling their voices, and the sound of the sander roaring to life, so their conversation had been stilted in the moments when it was turned off. After a long while, Parker looked over at Taylor, who had been sweeping up some of the sawdust, clearly wanting to say something. Taylor paused, looking back at him.

“Do you...” Parker started, sounding nervous. He looked away before continuing, “Do you think you’ll ever want to... you know, date someone again?”

For a moment, Taylor couldn’t breathe. The question made his chest tighten with longing—but it was a loaded question, too. Why would Parker ask him that if he wasn’t interested in him? That had to be it, right? He’d hoped so, but this was all but confirmation. Right?

“Sorry,” Parker blurted out quickly. Taylor shook himself out of his stupor; he’d been staring silently at Parker for several awkward seconds. “That was really—I shouldn’t have asked that. Sorry. God, I couldn’t even imagine—forget I asked.”

“No, I—I think I will,” Taylor interrupted, heart pounding. “I, um, I think I would. I’d like to. Yeah.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, and Taylor forced himself to keep meeting Parker’s wide eyes.

“I, um,” Parker finally stammered. “I’m sorry, anyway. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s okay,” Taylor replied, but Parker was already turning the sander back on, his gaze firmly down on the stage. Taylor watched him work for a moment, glad his mask was hiding his small, nervous smile.

That had to be it, right? Parker asked because he wanted to date Taylor. Right?

Maybe he should just go for it. Everything he’d wanted to talk to Parker about could wait. He would just go for it.

Their conversation mostly petered out after that, though a few minutes later Parker forcedly asked Taylor about some TV show they’d both been watching, and they talked about that on and off for the rest of the afternoon.

Finally, the stage was largely bare of varnish; they would finish the last of it, replace the missing boards, then re-varnish it the next week. But for now, they were done for the day.

“There are some beers in the fridge,” Taylor said, as Parker pulled his mask off. “Want one?”

Parker hesitated, glancing between Taylor and the exit for a moment; but finally, he smiled weakly over at Taylor and nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good. I’m gonna go wash some of this sawdust off my face, then I’ll meet you at the bar?”

Taylor nodded, watching as Parker stepped away. His heart was pounding hard in his chest. He could do it. Parker was just as interested. He would do it.

Shaking himself into action, Taylor hurried to the small kitchen off to the side of the bar and scrubbed his hands clean in the sink, then opened the back fridge that housed some bottled waters, electrolyte drinks, sodas, and two different six-packs of bottled beers. He’d stocked this fridge for the contractors that were coming in to help repair things. Only two of the beers had been taken, so he grabbed two bottles and popped the caps off. He took a sip of his, focusing on the bitter, hoppy taste to try to ease his sudden nerves.

They didn’t have bar stools set up yet, but he still brought both beers over to that side of the bar, setting Parker’s bottle on the countertop, before leaning against the bar with his own beer in hand, taking another sip. Was it weird for him to be waiting here? Did he look too casual? Not casual enough?

Luckily, Parker came walking back through the hallway just a moment later, so he didn’t have too long to stress over it. His eyes landed on Taylor; he grinned, then took a long drink of his beer, before settling beside Taylor and leaning against the bar.

“That hits the spot,” he chuckled, pensively looking down at the beer in his hands. “Thanks, Taylor. I won’t tattle that you’re serving me beer without an alcohol license.”

Taylor laughed. “You didn’t buy it, so I don’t know if it still counts. But thanks.”

“Same time next week, then?” Parker asked, and Taylor nodded. “The stage is gonna look so much better once we’re done. Hell, it looks better already.”

“It does,” Taylor agreed. He looked around the venue for a moment, then shot Parker a small smile. “It’s all really coming together, you know? It’s finally starting to look like a real, functioning venue. I can actually imagine what it’ll look like when everything’s done.”

Parker’s gaze softened, meeting Taylor’s eyes. “It’s looking great already. You should be really proud of yourself, Taylor.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Taylor replied quickly, feeling the heat rising in his face. “So, you know. Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Parker chuckled, then held out his beer toward Taylor. “Here’s to the Caesura Room, the next big rock venue in all of San Diego.”

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