“Is it fun?”
“Fun?”
Todd nods.
“Would you believe me if I said yes?”
Shaking his head, Todd takes another swig from his cup. Difficult? Yes. Prestigious? Absolutely. Fun? “No.”
“I guess I’ll have to lie and say no, then.”
“That’s good practice for when you start working,” Todd points out, and Daniel tips his head back in a laugh. Warmth blooms deep in Todd’s belly.
“Probably.”
“Why did you choose law?” Todd doesn’t know that much about it, except what he’s learned on Law and Order and Suits.
“Sorry?”
“Why law?”
“My grandfather was a judge and he told me that he thought I’d make a good one.” Daniel shrugs and looks away, breaking eye contact for the first time since he sat down. There seems to be more to that story, but before Todd has a chance to ask, Daniel moves on. “Why did you choose art?”
“It was the only thing that made sense when I was applying to colleges.” The fact that he’s terrible at everything else isn’t something he needs to tell Daniel right now.
“I see.” Daniel looks at him. “Are you from around here?”
“Brooklyn. You?”
“Yes, a couple of streets over, born and raised.”
The conversation dies down then, and Todd racks his brain to find something else to talk about. Daniel has been the one asking questions. It’s Todd’s turn now, and he’s drawing a blank.
“What’s being on a swim team like?” he asks, just as someone bumps Daniel’s shoulder walking past. Daniel seems to know who the guy is, because he looks up and nods in a greeting. When he looks back at Todd, it’s as though the previous question was never spoken.
“So Mela’s your friend, right?” Daniel asks. Is the swim team question sensitive somehow? It doesn’t make sense, but Daniel would probably not ignore it otherwise.
“Um, yeah.” Todd nods and looks around for her, as he realizes that she’s not where he last saw her. He finds her standing in a corner, still talking to Jesse. Clearly, it was a great idea for her to come here tonight. “She can be very persuasive if she wants,” he adds to Daniel.
“Sorry, I didn’t catch that?” Daniel has leaned forward slightly when Todd turns back toward him. Up close like this Todd can make out the color of his eyes better. They might be green, but it’s difficult to tell with how light the color is around the pupil, and how sharp the ring around the iris is in contrast. He could spend days trying to draw them, and it still wouldn’t be accurate. Since when did reality turn into a sappy romance novel?
“She can be very persuasive,” Todd repeats and forces himself not to look away. “She made me come with her tonight.”
“So I have her to thank, then?” Daniel grins, and Todd’s neck grows hot.
Reaching up to scratch his neck, he tries not to stare at Daniel’s mouth. And fails. Goddammit.
“I’m not sure you should thank her yet. It’s not even past midnight.”
Daniel laughs, and Todd can’t help but smile. “Can I get you another drink?”
Looking in his cup, Todd finds that it’s almost empty. He has no clue how this happened, but he doesn’t want their conversation to end. With a nod, he hands his cup to Daniel.
“Anything in particular?”
Todd shrugs. “I prefer cold over stale but, other than that, I’m not too picky.”
Nodding, looking as though he’s trying not to smile, Daniel disappears toward the staircase. A moment later, Mela shows up.
“Heya!” She takes Daniel’s empty spot, and Todd looks around to make sure that Daniel doesn’t think he’s been rejected. He’s nowhere to be seen however, and Todd turns his attention back to Mela. She can’t seem to stop smiling, and Todd wishes that he was the kind of person who would reach out and squeeze her hand.
“I’m taking it you’re having a good time?” he asks.
“Yeah.” Mela nods and looks away before her smile grows even wider. “He’s pretty great so far.”
“Well, you’re pretty great, so that’s a must.”
Mela kicks his foot gently. “So, Daniel?”
“What about him?” Todd stalls.
“He’s really hot.”
Snorting, Todd looks around to make sure Daniel is nowhere within earshot. He doesn’t seem to need another ego boost.
“He is, and he knows it,” he agrees, when he makes sure that Daniel still isn’t back. “He’s kind of nice too.”
“Very nice, when I spoke to him earlier. He’s friends with Jesse.”
“Yeah,” Todd sighs. “They’re on the swim team together.”
“Why do you look all down? If he’s nice and hot and smart, what more do you want?” Mela kicks his foot again, being less gentle this time.
“I don’t know.” Todd hesitates. “He probably just wants to hook up.”
“And you don’t want that?”
Swallowing, Todd wishes he still had his cup to hide behind. “I kinda do. I just don’t want to be the dude who’s sad when he doesn’t get a call the next day.”
“You could be the one making the call.”
It sounds so easy when she says it, as though she has forgotten that Todd’s a total coward who has to muster up his courage to call in a pizza order.
She softens. “Just let me know when you feel like leaving. You don’t have to stay because of me.”
Letting out a breath, Todd nods and kicks her foot in return. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”
“Allow yourself to have a bit of fun. Daniel’s a decent guy according to Jesse.”
“And Jesse’s a decent guy according to you,” Todd fills in. There’s no question Daniel is both nice to look at and nice to talk to. Todd just can’t come up with anything they have in common. At all.
His thoughts are put on hold when Mela gets up from the coffee table. Zoning back to reality, Todd finds Daniel slipping into her empty spot, offering him a cup.
“Sorry for taking so long,” he apologizes. “I tried to find something cold.”
The beer is definitely cold, Todd decides, as he accepts the cup. So cold that he gets momentary brain freeze when he gulps down too much, too fast.
“Wow, thanks. How did you find this?”
Daniel grins, and Todd gets the feeling that he does that a lot. He probably knows what it does to people. “Bribed a couple. Killed a few.”
Snorting into his beer, Todd bites his lip to stop himself from smiling. “For some reason, I don’t even think that you’re joking.”
“Come again?”
“I don’t even think you’re joking,” Todd repeats.
“Seems like you’ve gotten the hang of me already.”
“You’re not that hard to figure out,” Todd counters and swallows at the way Daniel’s smile widens.
“I’m really not,” he agrees.
Todd’s spine tingles when Daniel moves the table slightly closer and their legs suddenly interlock. The music is really loud, so Todd can’t blame him. He notices the difference in the width of their thighs, and his gaze gets stuck on Daniel’s shoulders for a second too long. This doesn’t make any sense, but it doesn’t matter.
“I’m assuming that you’re not in a relationship,” he blurts, before he can stop himself. Expecting Daniel to laugh, Todd concentrates on taking a swig from his cup, grateful that the beer is so cold because his face is burning.
Daniel, however, waits him out. When Todd doesn’t have another choice but to look up, Daniel is still looking at him. There’s something in his gaze that makes it a difficult to swallow.
“If I’m in a relationship?”
Todd nods.
“I’m not. Are you?”
“No. Definitely not.” Todd readju
sts his beanie and gestures toward his cup. “Thanks for this. It’s actually really good.”
“Glad to hear it.” Daniel’s knee bumps against his, and Todd is about a hundred percent sure that it’s not by accident. “What are your plans for the rest of the night?”
“No clue.” Shrugging, Todd looks at Daniel’s wristwatch. It’s barely past midnight. “I’m open to whatever,” he adds in a rush. He doesn’t want Daniel to think that he’s been blown off.
“I think we’re planning on heading to a bar in a bit.” Daniel nods toward a group of guys who looks like the kind of people Todd would normally refuse to hang out with. At least three of them are wearing sporty jackets with the Columbia crest. “If you and Mela want to come with us, that would be fun.”
Just as he’s about to nod and agree, he remembers that he has no clue what Mela wants. “I’ll have to ask her.”
“Sure.” Daniel moves backward on the coffee table. It’s not by much, but Todd really doesn’t like the way it creates more space between them.
“I’d like to come, though,” he adds, almost stumbling over the words, and extends his legs, keeping his feet close to Daniel’s. It’s an instant reward, the smile he gets for his efforts.
“Sorry?”
“I’d like to come,” Todd repeats, slower this time.
“I’ll go ask when and where.” Daniel gets up, and Todd breathes in a hint of his cologne when he moves into Todd’s space. “Maybe you can ask her in the meantime?”
Nodding, Todd gets to his feet as Daniel approaches the group of guys. He expects to feel a rush of alcohol, since he’s been sitting for quite a while, but it doesn’t come. Maybe he hasn’t had that much after all.
Mela is in the corner with Jesse, and he’s reluctant to walk over and disturb them. Luckily, she notices him hovering and waves him over.
“Todd!” Jesse exclaims. “Haven’t seen you all night. Did Daniel steal you away from everyone?”
Awkward. “Uh, yeah.”
“What’s going on?” Mela asks, her hands not leaving Jesse’s arms.
“Did we wanna go to that bar with Daniel?” It’d be easier if Jesse wasn’t here. Not because he dislikes Jesse, but because his body itches from having to talk about this in front of someone he doesn’t know.
“What bar?” Mela asks immediately.
Jesse looks around until his gaze locks on the group of guys where Daniel is standing.
“I don’t know,” Todd says. “He just asked if we wanted to come with.”
“I’ll ask about the plans.” Jesse disappears, and Todd watches how he puts a hand on Daniel’s shoulder when he reaches the group, and then gesticulates vividly about something.
“Do you want to go?” Mela asks and turns him toward her, as she scrutinizes him.
“Yeah.” Todd takes a swig from his cup. “I mean, if you want to.”
“Sure, as long as you don’t think I’m forcing you.”
Shaking his head, Todd takes another swig and—crap. He really needs to pee. “Can you hold this? I’ll be back.”
Mela takes the cup and rolls her eyes over the fact that his bladder always takes him by surprise whenever he drinks alcohol.
The bathroom isn’t that hard to find, and Todd stares at his reflection. He doesn’t feel drunk, doesn’t look drunk. There’s nothing but a comfortable buzz under his skin. He’s a little braver, nothing extravagant. Truth be told, he can’t tell if the buzz is because of the alcohol or because of Daniel.
When he reenters the living room, Mela has joined the group of guys. Todd sweats a little walking over to them; he’s getting sudden flashbacks from high school when jocks blocked his locker. Daniel looks up, smiling and stepping aside to invite him into the group.
“Ready to go?” he asks when Todd is close enough to hear; he’s turned toward him as if the rest of his friends stopped existing the moment Todd came back.
“Yeah, decided on where to?”
“Sports bar,” Daniel says, and a smirk creeps onto his lips. “Your favorite, I assume?”
“I love sports bars. Especially how masculine I feel there.”
Daniel laughs, and Todd grabs his cup with cold beer from Mela when Daniel strokes his arm.
He’s grateful for the less-hot air when they get outside. He drinks it in, feeling oddly right in a company where he expected to feel out of place. Daniel is walking beside him, not saying anything, but his hand brushes against Todd’s arm repeatedly.
The sports bar is crowded, but it seems as though Jesse knows someone, because no one checks their IDs. It doesn’t hit Todd until he goes in with them that he’s not old enough to drink legally yet. Only six months left, but he’s still breaking the law.
Swallowing, he glances at Daniel, who doesn’t seem to have noticed. Maybe he never has to show his ID in this place.
They get a table, though the place is crowded. It’s one of those places with creaking couches in faux leather, too-large tables, and every square inch of the walls covered in something related to one of the New York sports teams. Todd recognizes the face of the hockey goalie, but that’s about it. He sits at the end of the couch, and the way Daniel picks the closest chair, angling it toward him, makes him want to check everyone’s reaction.
“Thirsty?” Daniel asks him.
Todd shrugs, then nods. “Kinda.”
Daniel is gone before he has the chance to offer to buy the drinks this time around. To his relief, Daniel has ordered the entire round, so he’s not singled out. Not that he minds, he just doesn’t want Daniel to think that he can’t buy his own beer.
“Is this your usual place? Where you go all the time?” Todd asks, as Daniel sits down.
“Sorry?” Daniel looks up, leaning a bit closer.
Todd repeats the question, surprised by the focused attention Daniel is giving him.
“It is. We’re here almost weekly, even if not all at the same time.”
Todd clears his throat, looks around to make sure no one is paying attention, and lowers his voice as he leans a little closer. “You do know I’m not old enough to drink legally, right?”
“You’re not allowed to drink?” Daniel asks, but he sounds more as if he’s making sure he’s heard right, rather than appalled that he just gave beer to a minor. “By how much?”
“Six months.”
“No big deal, then.” Daniel shrugs, but Todd doesn’t miss the relief flashing across his face.
“What, scared I was a freshman?”
“Something like that.”
Todd swallows. “How old are you?”
“Old enough to drink legally.”
Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Todd says, “I’m guessing in your forties, since you’re apparently really sensitive about your age.”
Daniel laughs. “I’m pretty fine for a middle-aged guy, right?”
“The fact that you’re still in college scares me, though.”
Daniel laughs again. “Valid concern.”
Looking around the table, Todd finds that no one is paying any attention to them. Mela and Jesse only have eyes for each other.
“What do you do, other than school?” Daniel asks, pulling Todd’s attention back to him.
“I work at an art gallery.” Todd refrains from mentioning the possibility of soon being out of a job. His chest grows heavy, as he’s reminded of that particular detail.
“An art gallery? Really?” Moving his chair even closer, Daniel rests his arms on the table.
With a nod, Todd turns his glass almost a full circle. “It’s not that exciting. I’m mostly at the front desk and overwhelm people when I give them a tour.”
“It sounds pretty cool,” Daniel offers.
“What do you do? Except for poli-sci.”
“Practice.” Daniel bites his lip and looks as if he
is thinking. “Practice. And then of course, there’s always practice.”
Todd kicks his foot. “Okay, I get it. You’re super fit.”
There’s a moment of hesitation before Daniel speaks again. “Seriously though, I do spend a lot of time doing that. I also have to study a lot.”
Todd can relate to that. Most college students probably can, but since he’s never had an easy time learning something new, he really has to make an effort. “Poli-sci is pretty tough, huh?”
“As is Columbia,” Daniel says. “It’s ridiculous.”
“I don’t even want to try to imagine what it’s like.” Pulling a face, Todd takes another swig from his glass and then another three, because Daniel has put a hand on his thigh, just above the knee. Really, it’s totally PG.
He glances at Mela. She’s at the other end of the table, discussing something with Jesse and some other dude Todd doesn’t know. The bar is crowded and loud, not the same kind of loud as the frat party. Here, it’s talking, shouting to be able to hold a conversation. The tables are too wide for anyone to be able to talk very well across them when it’s as crowded as it is tonight.
Blinking back to Daniel, Todd puts his glass down and decides that he’s old enough to not need alcohol for this.
“Does your semester start next week as well?” Daniel asks, and his hand stays unmoving on Todd’s thigh. Knee. Whatever.
“Yeah, unfortunately.” He grimaces.
“Why, not looking forward to midterms and finals all over again?” Daniel grins.
“Not exactly.” Clearing his throat, Todd tries not to think about how he’s halfway through his undergrad program. And then what? “Mostly because I don’t exactly know what I want to do afterward.”
“Work?” Daniel suggests. He makes it sound easy, and maybe it is for someone like him.
“I really hope so.”
“Is this your last year too?”
Shaking his head, Todd draws a line in the condensation on his glass. “No. Two left.”
“That’s forever,” Daniel says with an easy smile and squeezes his knee. Thigh. “You’ll have it all figured out when it’s time.”
Todd sort of assumed that he had. He was going to work in the gallery until he found something else, maybe forever if Mrs. Floral would let him. The idea of not having that stable point in his life, which he’s had since high school, scares the crap out of him. Art is all he has and the only thing he knows to any extent.
Brush Strokes Page 3
