Page 32 of Ambiguous
“Cool, cool.” I smile at him. “Thanks for teaching me.”
“You’re welcome.” He looks at me, and we both stand there a moment.
“Shall we go back inside?”
“Yes, we should. But before we do, can I ask you something?” he says. “You don’t have to answer. And I promise, whatever you answer—or if you don’t answer—stays with me.”
“Okay.” I can’t keep the wariness out of my voice.
“I don’t know how to ask this. You know I’m gay. And you just danced with me. And you did say something earlier aboutourrights. So I wanted to know if you, um. If you ever… liked men, like that.”
My heart starts beating fast. “That’s not a question I answer publicly, because my sexuality is my own business.” Kind of like my personal history. My voice drops. “But yes, I find men attractive. Certain ones, at least, especially those who douse others in water.”
“Oh,” he says. And it’s the cutest “oh” I’ve ever heard. Like he’s processing what I just said and what it means.
Still, knowing his stance on being out, I feel defensive. I keep my voice even. “I wear whatever the hell I want and have sex however I like, because I think both are fun and both are expressions of myself. End of story. But I don’t talk about it, because it’s my business. I don’t go down the street demanding that people show me their genitals and tell me what kind of genitals they prefer to rub against.”
“When you put it that way, I feel bad for asking.”
“You, dear Sam, may have been asking for a personal reason. No?”
“Yeah,” he says, his voice husky. “I may have a vested interest in your answer.”
“And that’s entirely different. I trust you to not add it to my Wikipedia entry.”
“I won’t.”
A song starts forming in my head about that feeling like you’re in a tailspin, when you’re falling for someone. And how scary that is.
“Sorry,” I say. “Just thought of a lyric. Do you mind?”
I pull out my phone and take a few notes.
I look up at Sam when I’m done. “Something about being near you makes me want to write.”
“That’s a good thing, isn’t it, given my job?”
I nod and smile. “It is.” I gesture to the open doors leading into the hotel. “Shall we?”
“Sure.”
We walk back inside.
“What’s next for you?” Sam asks.
“The Fly by Night festival. Even though we wrapped up the tour, we added that on as a one-off.”
“Oh! That sounds like fun. My friend Emily was trying to get tickets, but it’s sold out.”
I grin and pull out my phone again, type quickly, and hit send.
Sam tilts his head. “What did you just do?”
“Backstage passes will be couriered to your office Monday morning.”
He presses his palms to his cheeks, trying to hide a smile. “You really don’t have to do that.”
“I know. But maybe you can help me with the album more if you’ve seen a live show. You haven’t, right?”
