Page 7 of Pity the Living, Not the Dead

I wasn’t sure if it was his less-than-motivating speech or the fact that I was growing angry with myself, but in a burst of breath, the words rushed out. “Willyougoonadatewithme?”

Elijah shook his head, and then, in a surprising move, he laughed, a deep, hearty sound that had my smile returning and my hopes elevated. “It’s a good thing I can speed listen now, isn’t it, Liam?” I bobbed my head like a dog following a bone. “Yes, Liam, I would like to go on a date with you.”

“Okay, great,” were the only words I could utter in response, the rest having evacuated my brain while I made a fool of myself. I’m sure a more measured response would have been the mature one, but I was too elated to conjure anything else out of my muffled mind.

“Now see, Liam, were those words so hard to say?” Elijah asked, pressing his lips to my temple. The slightest touch from him had me willing to do whatever it took to receive more…

“Harder than you think.” On some level, it seemed as though Elijah really got me, like no one besides Olivia ever had. “So, where would you like to go and when?”

“Are you free Friday night? Say the same time we met tonight, around ten? I can pick you up by the old sawmill. I have a few ideas on what we could do.” Elijah winked.

Swallowing hard, I nodded. Would Elijah expect things of me? Things I’d not readied myself for parting with, even though I thought about it incessantly since we met? Would I so willingly give up that which I had held on to, waiting for the right man to come along? Was that man Elijah? Would he be the one to take my virginity and make me a man? Or would he be like others I’d heard about, who left once they got what they wanted? Jesus, it was like I suddenly sprouted a vagina.

“Stop overthinking this, Liam. We move at your pace. You have the control in this relationship,” Elijah said, again voicing my fears as though he were inside my head seeing them firsthand. “I do not take that which is not offered. First dates are for getting to know one another, not for hookups. Call me old-fashioned, but I like being around you, and taking our time is not an issue for me.”

Relationship…hold that thought for another day, Liam.

“Me too,” I said, my voice so low, I’d hoped Elijah hadn’t heard me.

“At your pace, Liam,” he reiterated, kissing the top of my head. Something about Elijah talked to me led me to believe I could trust him. I felt it in his every reaction. How he spoke to me, the soft touches. The way he listened when I spoke. Still, I sensed a darker side, hidden secrets I was longing to uncover but didn’t fear. Whereas I had been an open book thus far, Elijah was holding back. Was he afraid of my reaction if he opened the flood gates and unleashed whatever he was holding back? Did he have a sordid past? Had he served jailtime? Drugs? Alcohol? Did he fear my running away?What makes Elijah tick?I wanted to learn everything I could about this man. His voice soothed me. He listened, didn’t discount my thoughts or feelings. He seemed to genuinely care. Elijah’s arm tightened around my shoulders, and I felt I could let go, be free to be me. Would I discover my true self with Elijah’s gentle prodding? Could it always be that way or would he grow bored with me?

We sat there, having returned to the fateful park bench, taking in the peaceful night and conversing infrequently. Sitting side by side in comfortable silence, his arm around my shoulders, my head on his chest. No questions to answer, no meddling family to appease, no loud voices to drown out. Just Elijah and me. But like always, all good things must come to an end.

“Liam,” Elijah said. It was sometime later, and I had hoped we could watch the sunrise together. “It’s time to call it a night. Let me drive you home.”

Reluctantly, I nodded in agreement. We walked hand in hand to the parking lot, Elijah was a total gentleman, opening the door to his SUV for me. “Wow, I’m not sure if it’s your window tint or because it’s the middle of the night, but I can’t see anything outside,” I said once we were buckled in.

“Probably a combination of the two. I’m not a fan of the sun,” he replied, putting the vehicle in gear.

“Yes, as a pale, redheaded Irishman, I more than understand that. I burn and peel, not fun for me, so I don’t do much outdoors myself. Never have. I’m a night owl.” Having anything removed from my body and tested for skin cancer wasn’t something I cared to endure.

Elijah pulled up outside of the sawmill and parked. “I know you’re not out to your family, but would it be all right if I kissed you goodnight?”

I hated that, due to my own cowardice, he had to ask. It was highly unlikely anyone from my family was awake at this ungodly hour. That, combined with how dark his vehicle was, made me doubt they’d see us if they were standing right outside the car door. “I’d like that.” The butterflies I felt the first time he kissed me immediately returned upon his asking.

He placed his hand at the nape of my neck, drawing me closer. Our lips were mere inches apart as we met over the center console. “I’ve been wanting to do this all night,” Elijah whispered.

Bringing the distance to a close, he pressed his lips to mine. The first trace of his tongue along the seam had me shaking. Shaking with want, with a desire that longed to be set free. I wanted this man to own me, take me to new heights. How could I feel so much from nothing more than a kiss? While our tongues danced, something inside me broke free.

This is right. This is who I am. I am gay.

For the first time in my life, I was ready to scream “yes, I’m gay” to the world, walking hand in hand with Elijah in public. Would he let that happen? Was he open to PDA? Would he feel happy or embarrassed to be linked to me?

Our lungs, in need of air, brought this to a close far too quickly. I could’ve remained the willing recipient of his kisses for hours. Far too soon, Elijah placed his forehead against mine. “You have no idea what you do to me, Liam. It is with great reluctance that I must bid you goodnight.” He kissed me again, a brief, chaste peck that still left me dizzy with need.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night.” I waved as I stepped out but didn’t look back as I walked up the path toward the house, for fear I’d go running right back, begging Elijah to take me home, to his home. I needed to control these wayward emotions or potentially risk this ending before it even got off the ground. Needy and clingy weren’t what anyone wanted in their life, and that wasn’t how I cared to come across, either.

Although our official first date was less than eighteen hours away, time crawled along at an agonizing pace. I swear, I checked the clock on my phone a good fifty times before forcing myself to tuck it away.

Elijah said he would take care of the arrangements for the night, so not only did I not know where we were going, but I didn’t have the faintest idea what to wear. My parents had left to have dinner with some friends of theirs, which I was more than thankful for. Being grilled by your parents before your first date wasn’t high on my list of priorities. I was beyond nervous and didn’t feel like answering a barrage of invasive questions from them.

I swear I tried on every outfit I had hanging in the ridiculously oversized walk-in closet in my room twice, finally settling on a pair of some designer jeans my mother had purchased, black loafers, and an emerald dress shirt, rolling up the sleeves a couple of turns. I stared into the floor-to-ceiling mirror in my bathroom, my voice echoing in the large space and bouncing off the marble finishes as I talked to myself. I always preferred wearing colors that brought my eyes to the forefront. I liked to believe they were one of my best features, if not the only. Thankfully, I had something going for me, but fashion wasn’t anything I’d ever grasped. Maybe it wasn’t a bad thing that my mother bought my clothes for me.

Ten p.m. seemed like an odd time to start a date, but having no real experience with this, I shrugged it off, recalling friends in college heading out to clubs at all hours of the night. Maybe it was the norm. Thoughts of being with Elijah, intimately, sent my hormones into overdrive, which launched me into unfamiliar territory. Every moment away from him was a painful challenge. Or maybe that was my stomach acting up—who knew.

I was outside at nine-forty-five sharp, waiting at the exact location where he’d dropped me off earlier that morning. When Elijah pulled up at ten on the nose, I gasped, taking in the sight of him as he exited the vehicle. This man was so utterly gorgeous, it stole my breath away, dressed similarly to me in form-fitting jeans, most likely name brand, leather loafers, and a dark blue button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up a couple of turns. His muscular forearms were exposed just enough to tease, leaving me wanting to shred the remainder of the cotton to get to that which I desired. I could only imagine the perfectly chiseled body hidden beneath.

“Liam,” Elijah said, opening the door for me, “you look stunning in green.” He closed the door, joining me inside before I’d even had the seat belt buckled. “That shade is truly your color. It brings out those gorgeous eyes of yours.”

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