Page 15 of Waiting on Life
They parted like the Red Sea. I got to the table and set the plates down one by one. One of the regulars, already deep into his cups, stared up at me.
“Hey, Toby, the new guy seems a little….” The man held out a limp wrist and waggled it. “You know.”
Blood pounded in my ears at the way he was being disrespectful to Kyle. “He’s going to be your fucking server starting tomorrow, so if you have a problem with it, you know where the door’s at.”
“Nah, no problem.” He smacked his buddy in the chest and leered. “He’s pretty, don’t you think? Those lips, I swear. My wife doesn’t have those.”
Heat rose in my face at how they were talking about Kyle. “You leave him alone. You talk to him, you act like a decent human being.” I dropped the tray on the table and turned to face the crowd. “Listen up, all of you. Kyle is going to be working here as a server. You treat him like you do the other guys, or I swear by God, I’ll kick your asses myself.”
“Sounds like Toby has a crush,” whispered one of the guys at the table.
I spun on my heel and leveled a gaze at the asshole. “I don’t have a crush. I’ve been working eighteen hours a day, for the last five weeks. Before that, I was pulling twelve. I don’t have the time or the desire to put up with shit from assholes like you. Kyle is going to be our server. He’s going to be here so I can take a day off. You make him uncomfortable or, worse, quit, I will can your asses so fast, you won’t know what hit you.”
“Yup, total crush,” the guy said, only this time with a laugh that didn’t sound at all genuine.
I bit my cheek to keep from blowing up. Only one more night, and then I’d be able to take some time off. I just had to make it through until tomorrow.
Kyle
Pete was lounging on the couch with a beer and a bag of chips when I walked in. I closed the door with a loud thump and slumped against it.
“Oh oh. I haven’t seen you look that bummed since… wait. The last time I saw that expression, you found out Frank Hoffman was straight.”
That fucker. “You mean, right before he punched me, blackened my eyes, and fucked up my perfect nose?”
It had been more than that, but I’d never told Pete. It was too late to change the past, and dwelling on it did no good. Frank let me blow him a couple times. I was an idiot, because in my head, I worked it up to be something more than it was. When I saw him out one day, me alone and him with a group of friends, I foolishly went and said hi. He grabbed my arm and dragged me outside of the bar, where he shoved me against the brick wall and told me if I ever talked to him again, he’d beat the shit out of me. Then he proceeded to give me a demonstration. The funny thing? After my beating, he called and asked if I wanted to get together. I laughed and said no fucking way. That wasn’t the last time I saw him, though. After, I told that son of a bitch I’d given his name to the cops and to leave me the hell alone. He scoffed and said I didn’t have the balls to turn him in.
We’ll see if the five to ten he was serving convinced him otherwise.
“Lemme guess. Toby.”
With a sigh, I shuffled over to the couch, grabbed Pete’s beer, and drained the remainder in one go. “Yup, he’s straight.” I belched. “Cute but unattainable. It’s okay, though. I’m going to focus on the job and put him out of my mind.”
Pete got up, went to the refrigerator, and pulled out two more beers. He came back to where I sat and handed me one. “It’s not like you to give up.”
I turned and scowled at him. “Did I mention my nose?”
“Your nose was fine, princess. No surgery was needed, just a few ice packs until the swelling went down. And remember, you learned a valuable lesson from the experience.”
If Pete knew what happened after, we wouldn’t be having this discussion. Hopefully, he would never know. “Which is my point. Don’t mess around with straight men. It never ends well. This isn’t a fairy tale, where Toby would pledge undying love to me and whisk me off to… well, his idea of a castle, and we’d live happily ever after.” I swallowed hard, because as much as there was truth behind my next words, I still hated it. “I like him. I mean, really like him. I’d rather have him as a friend than not have him in my life at all. He’s sweet, funny, adores his cat, and he’s good at what he does. If I have to choose between being his friend or having him out of my life, there’s not really a choice there, you know?”
Pete shifted on the couch, putting one knee on it as he faced me. “So you’re telling me that if he whipped his dick out, you wouldn’t drop to your knees?”
I squinted at Pete. “That’s hardly a fair question. I mean, physically he’s as near perfection as anyone I’ve ever met. And he’s big and burly and….” I swallowed hard. “I don’t know. I want to say I wouldn’t, but I know I’m a slut. That’s what you were getting at, right?”
He reached out and took my hand. “No, sweetie, that’s not what I was getting at at all. The fact that you’re saying these things shows you’re hardly a slut. Besides, I hate that word. Sex isn’t a dirty thing that has limits on it. It’s an enjoyable act for two—or more—people to engage in. Even if you were to do it every day of your life, with a hundred different people, that’s no one’s business but yours. Well, and the hundred other men. Stop putting yourself down. I think you’ve had more than enough people do that already.” He tugged me in and wrapped his arms around me. He was wearing something spicy and woodsy, and it suited him. I melted into his arms, because it felt good to be held.
“I need friends, Pete. People like Toby, who don’t talk down to me like I’m stupid or treat me like my being fabulous somehow makes me less of a man.”
“Even in your pumps and ball gown, you’ll never be less of a man, Cinderella.”
We sat there for a while, him holding me. Such a simple act, but it had such a profound effect on me. It made Pete feel better too, when I held him. Or if we cuddled up under a blanket together to watch a movie. I will never understand why people insist holding or snuggling with someone is impossible for friends. Why do we make it that way? We need more hugs, damn it, not more people telling us to be ashamed of our feelings.
“Pete?”
“Hm?”
“You know I love you, right?”
