Page 21 of You & I, Rewritten

For a moment, I feel remorse and even shame for breaking the most sacred and respected rule in the gay man’s handbook: never out anyone. Even if he was in our apartment last night, Klair doesn’t fully know the extent of our…friendship? Relationship?Ugh.

“I like that you’ve been talking to your friends about me,” Graham says after a long sip from his glass. I watch in slow motion as his tongue licks a lingering drop of red wine from his bottom lip and all previous fears and shame are quickly forgotten. “So, do dates with you always come with complimentary wine or is this a special occasion?” he says through a dazzling smile.

“Oh, am I on a date?” I tease, resting my chin on my hand. “Where is he?”

“Someone’s a jokester.” His facial expression transforms into the most devious smirk I’ve ever seen.God, that should be illegal.Leaning in closer causes his leg to press firmly against mine, sending a spike of pure adrenaline through my veins. “Thismost certainlyis a date, and at the risk of being forward, you’re a littletoooverdressed for my liking.” He leans back in his chair and cocks an eyebrow, smirking even more as he grabs his menu.

Well shit… I’m hard.

Our server returns with the most impeccable timing, placing our waters and some ciabatta bread on the table—which I nervously begin munching on, granting me the slightest moment of clarity or else I’d be even moredicknotizedby Graham than I already am. We each place our orders—the pesto tortellini for him and the carbonara for me—and Graham adds the bruschetta for the table. Klair’s recommendation and my personal favorite.

“So, if you’re done squirming in your chair after that last remark, is now an appropriate time to start bombarding you with stereotypical first-date questions?”Jaw. Dropped.

Gulp. “Do your worst.”

“Alright, let’s start with some easy ones…You’re originally from this area, right? What was it like growing up here?” he asks, resting his chin on his fists.

“It was great, truly. The art, the food, and the sights…there’s nothing like it! Even after all these years, I feel like I’m still discovering new places and things to do. What about you?”

“Hey now, I’m the one asking the questions tonight,” he jokes. “But you get one…we moved here from Los Angeles when I was a sophomore in high school, and there’s nowhere in the world that has the amount of magic New York City does.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” I take another sip of my wine, willing whatever this liquid courage everyone’s always talking about to kick in so I don’t mess this up.

“Moving on…siblings?”

“Nope, I’m an only child, but at this point, I consider Klair family…does that count?”

He laughs, a deep and velvety sound that I could listen to all day. “You two are that close, huh? How long have you known one another?”

“I mean, you did see her note, right? Klair has everyone convinced she’s this sweet and delicate little flower, but she willthrow downfor the people she loves,” I explain, laughing as shenanigans from our childhood start popping into my head. “Klair has been in my life for as long as I can remember, honestly. I’m pretty sure she had dinner with our family more nights than not.”

Graham listens intently as I begin sharing—more like oversharing—stories from our childhood. From family vacations and summer camp adventures to pulling pranks on boys in middle school and high school dances. He hangs on my every word, laughing and smiling as I reveal more and more about my childhood. The waiter brings our food and despite the aroma of the beautiful spread placed before us, the conversation continues to flow between bites—savory and cheesy melt-in-your-mouth bites thatalmostcause the most unflattering moan to escape my lips. I swear if I wasn’t on a first date right now, I’d be seductively licking my plate clean and asking for another orderto-go.

“And you two haven’t…” he asks through an inquisitive grin and raised eyebrow.

“Oh, God no,” I say, nearly choking on my pasta. “Klair is gorgeous and perfect in every way, but when I say she’s like a sister to me…I mean it.”

“Got it. Alright, let’s see…what about your favorite shows and what kind of music you listen to?”

I take another sip of my wine because I’m fairly certain my taste in music and television is going to make him regret dining with me. “One Tree Hill is the best show in the history of television, and I’m the self-appointed President of the Taylor Swift Fan Club.” I cover my face with my hands to avoid whatever expression his face is making.Probably disgust.

“Hmm, I don’t think I’ve ever watched that show, but here’s the more important follow up question then…” I peek at him through my fingers, suddenly intrigued. “What’s your favorite Taylor era?”

Oh. My. God.Total and utter shock consumes me. Did I perhaps snag a…Swiftie?

“I knew I liked you for a reason,” I say, trying to pick up my dropped jaw. “But this will definitely be a conversation for date two because I could talk all things Ms. Swift all night.”

“Okay, okay…fair enough. How about if you could have any superpower, what would it be and why?”

“Yikes, I havenoidea…maybe something cliché like flying or invulnerability?”

“Come on, Cowen…don’t be so basic,” Graham taunts.

“Basic, huh? Sounds like you have theperfectanswer for that one lined up so I’m calling a redo on theone questionI’m allowed to have because I already knew you were from LA.” I mimic his position, leaning forward and resting my chin on my knuckles.Such a power move.

Graham laughs once more and I’ve already decided it’s my favorite sound ever. “If I could haveanysuperpower, it would for sure be the power of persuasion.”

“Um, I’m pretty sure you already have that one down,” I confess.

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