Page 21 of This or That
“Unfortunately, yes. And this isn’t the place.”
“Yeah, I figured. Was just touching base to see how you were doing.”
Good question, Anna!“The answer’s pretty simple. Tired from bouncing between LA, Miami, and Vegas for the last two weeks.” Trust me, I’m far from complaining. Since stepping off of that cruise ship last month, things have spiraled in the best of ways. “Happy that my career’s finally picking up now that I’m a signed artist.” A rush of heat unfurls along the back of my neck, and I still can’t wrap my head around it. My eyes lose focus with the next confession. “Confused by Mike’s mixed messages.” I disembarked the ship with a signed contract in one hand and a bag full of questions in the other.
What the hell happened between Mike and me? It’s not my style to crawl back to someone like a lost puppy. It’s not the first time that someone’s rejected me. It’s not like we exchanged vows or anything. I know better than to beg for an explanation. “Thing is, I truly like the guy.” My admission makes me cough into my jacket-covered elbow; I hate that it’s almost July, but I can’t wear a T-shirt because of the blasting air conditioning! “What pissed me off, though, is that I thought we’d been honest with one another.” I sigh as I remember how the jackass slipped through my fingers the day that the cruise ended. “So he went radio silent for a week, then texted me out of the blue and said we should meet.”
“Well, put yourself in his shoes for a sec. You basically mauled him… twice!” I’m about to protest her allegations, but she carries on. “I’m perfectly aware that he returned the kiss… twice, thank you very much. I’m keeping tabs on you two. What I’m saying is that you guys have been playing cat and mouse since day one. Maybe he’s trying to adjust to the idea, you know? He told you he’s never been with a dude before.” Anna’s words ring true, but Mike’s behavior when things got more intimate contradicts them.
“He didn’t seem afraid, if you ask me… Eager would be more like it.” I was about to say horny… No need to have people eavesdrop on our convo, which should be held privately. I can only handle so much of her Psych 101. “Whatever… I’ll call you back later today. Okay?”
“Got it! All in all, I’m glad things are working out for you. I’m so proud of you, big boy!” She pauses. “As for Mike, give it some time.”
“That’s all I’ve been doing!” I complain, pursing my lips to contain the verbal diarrhea that threatens to bust loose. Fatigue increases my frustration, which, in turn, makes me ridiculously verbose. “Anyway, let’s not get into that right now or I’ll miss my plane.” I search for my ID in my jacket pocket and take a couple of steps as the line inches forward.
“Sure. Text me when you’re available. We’ll find a way to make our schedules work… Maybe I should pay you a visit. I miss hugging you.” Anna’s definitely a tactile person.
“I miss you, too, Anna. Text and FaceTime have their limits. You know you’re welcome to crash at my place, right? We could go to that new club in Manhattan. It’s called Studio 45. It’s as popular as its ancestor, Studio 54, but less disco, more electro, and a mixed audience.” I know that she can read between the lines and determine that it’s my hunting ground, primarily targeted at LGBTQ patrons, but straight people are also welcome. As my friends became aware of my sexual preferences over the years, I’ve learned not to discuss such topics in crowded places, such as airports; you never know who might be listening and is keen to grace you with their unsolicited opinion. “My place in Brooklyn is in a trendy neighborhood.” My Park Slope apartment was the first investment that I made with my incoming cash flow. “The one thing, though, is that it just has one bedroom and I don’t own a futon. Of course, I could sleep on the couch and let you and your beau stay in the bedroom, but just so you know, there’s only one bathroom.”
“That’s a very American concern, my friend!” she retorts. “Apparently, you haven’t lived in Europe long enough to grasp that it isn’t such a big issue for us. Oh well, I’ll try to land a contract for an American campaign. That’ll give me the perfect excuse to come and see you… and talk about music, love, and sex! I’ll talk to you later.”
And with that prospect in mind, Anna ends the call without further notice and I board the red-eye. It isn’t long until I crash from exhaustion, which offers a welcome reprieve. These past couple of days have been intense and so successful that Nicolas sounded even more thrilled than I was the last time we talked.
Breakfast on board isn’t to my liking and neither are any of the flight attendants, so I refrain from harmlessly flirting with them to pass the time until we land. That’s okay, though. It seems like I can’t get my favorite frenemy out of my head anyway. After his confession about jacking off to gay porn, I’ve strangely been friend zoned; the nature of our texts has become mundane over the last few weeks. Our whereabouts. My music. His job hunt. I care about these things, but not to the point where these are the sole subjects that we can talk about. Maybe calling him or getting together once I’m back for a couple of days might help. So far, it’s more frustrating than when we weren’t talking at all. What was I saying about mixed signals?
The sliding doors open to the real world. Damn, I’ve missed New York! Granted, Newark isn’t quite Manhattan, but it’ll do; it’s hardly past 7:00 a.m., so way too early to care… I’m sonota morning person!
Grumbling at my terrible idea of booking the red-eye, I find my suitcase on the carousel and head towards the exit. All the while, I remain unaware of my surroundings, with my head stuck in my iPhone searching for the Uber app to arrange a ride home.
I’m almost done with the reservation when I’m interrupted by a masculine voice that baffles me, warms my less-than-romantic heart, and makes my dick twitch.Am I dreaming this because of my earlier call with Anna?When I look up, reality dawns and my mouth hangs open in shock. And to think that I stored my hat in my luggage to be less conspicuous. What an epic failure!
“Good morning, cowboy!” the bastard slurs, winking at me as if his presence is the most natural thing on earth. His tone is more friendly than flirtatious, but seeing him in person makes my heart skip a beat.Why does this guy affect me so much?For all I know, apart from test-driving me, he’s not that into me.
Facing him, I stand at arm’s length and take him in. Brawny body. Dreamy eyes. Sinful mouth. Far enough to thwart his familiar scent from permeating my nostrils. Close enough to remember how he felt thrusting in my mouth, which instantly waters as I long to taste him again. Still, I can’t help but blurt out the lingering question that burns my tongue. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Glad to see you, too, man.”
I’m too shell-shocked to produce a witty reply. I guess my brain short-circuited at the sight of a smiling, unshaven, and hot-as-sin Mike. “What’s with the hat anyway?” Mike’s wearing a straw cowboy hat that’s rather similar to mine!
“Don’t tell me that you forgot my warning from my last text.”
In a feeble attempt to recall what I said, I narrow my gaze on him, detailing his beautiful features instead of concentrating on our conversation.
He snaps his fingers to snap me out of it, and I mindlessly shake my head. “I’m listening.”What was he saying again?
“I told you that next time I wouldn’t look anything like Channing Tatum and you might not like it.” Seeing his rosy cheeks under the hat that regrettably hides part of his gorgeous face is endearing. My heart swells that he’s worried about what I might think. “My hair has grown, but not enough, so I thought you might enjoy my new accessory, considering how your cowboy hat haunted me!”
Mike: 1 – Troy: 0
My reaction to him annoys me, but why not speak my mind? “Haunted you, huh?” I tease. He’s oddly at ease with our interaction in a crowded place, although it’s beyond friendship. So I lean into his personal space and murmur into his ear, “You’re sexy as fuck either way, and I like you way too much for my own good.” I take a step back and am pleased that, for once, he proudly wears his emotions on his flaming face.
Well, I’m not going to make a scene in the airport, so I might as well go with the flow. He’s here, isn’t he? I didn’t think that he’d pick up on the scattered hints regarding my arrival.
Mike: 2 – Troy: 0
“It looks good on you!” I eventually admit. My feet are glued to the floor, and I’m captivated by this man. “You know I don’t wear mine outside gigs because I don’t like to draw attention in the city that never sleeps.”
“Well, I wanted to attract yours. You were too busy with your phone at first, but I could tell by your face that I succeeded anyway.” He shrugs while worrying the corner of his lip. “So… I’m here because I thought that it would be nice for you to be greeted by a familiar face instead of an Uber driver… I happen to have a car, and I’m offering you a ride. That is, if you forgive me. Like I said, I was an asshole to you. I gave this a lot of thought, and I want to start over. Will you forgive me? Please…” With that, he takes two steps towards me, entering my personal space.
