by Alexa Land
“I shouldn’t.”
“I know. Do it anyway.”
A smile spread across my face, and I found myself saying, “Alright.”
Chapter Six
A glorious sight greeted me when I raised my eyelids the next morning. Ignacio was dancing around my kitchen dressed in a tiny pair of black briefs. His phone was tucked into the waistband, and a white cord ran to a pair of earbuds. He was cooking something and moving his hips to whatever he was listening to, and I propped my head up with my hand and watched his sexy ass swaying to the beat.
A moment later, he started singing along quietly to ‘Chandelier’, matching Sia’s high-pitched tone. He threw his arms in the air and really started getting into it, swaying his entire body. The best part of that was the fact that he was actually pretty uncoordinated. But it didn’t dampen his enthusiasm, and I found that endearing. I grinned and sat up, leaning against the wall as I enjoyed the show.
Ignacio spun around after a minute, and when he saw me, he exclaimed, “You’re finally awake!”
“What time is it?”
“Nearly noon.” He brought me a cup of coffee and kissed my forehead. “I hope you’re hungry, because I made us breakfast.”
“With what? My refrigerator was empty.” I took a sip of coffee and murmured, “Wow, that’s good.”
“I borrowed your keys and went to the market.”
“How did I sleep through all of that?”
Ignacio smiled at me. “I think it’s safe to say I wore you out last night.”
That made me smile, too. I swung out of bed and headed for the bathroom as I said, “No kidding. It’s too bad I slept my day away, though.”
“You didn’t. We still have all kinds of time.”
When I emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, I was slightly less disheveled and dressed in a pair of plaid pajama pants. I checked my phone, because I’d sent my supervisor a text before I fell sleep, telling him I was taking the day off. I’d also asked him to call me if anything important came up. First thing that morning, he’d replied with, “Glad you’re taking some time off. Take a few extra days if you need them.” I hated the fact that I’d become so expendable at work.
But I wasn’t going to dwell on that, not when a gorgeous man was dancing around my apartment in his underwear. Ignacio had put his phone on speaker so we could both enjoy the music, and he’d set the breakfast bar with my best dishes and wine glasses. He poured us mimosas before placing two plates heaped with pancakes on the counter. I tossed my phone on the bed and joined him on the pair of stools in front of my kitchenette.
He ate with gusto. In between mouthfuls of food, he carried on an animated monologue about all he had to do now that he was back in the states, from joining a new gym, to finding a place to live, to meeting with a local gallery owner about a show they’d been discussing before he left for Spain. That all made me happy, since it sounded like Ignacio was planning to remain in San Francisco, at least for the next few months. After a while, he took a drink from his wine glass, then said, “I’m monopolizing the conversation. You should tell me to shut up.”
“Why would I do that? I want to hear what you have to say.”
He smiled at me and took my hand. “I’m so happy to be back here with you. All those phone calls and video chats were fantastic, but I love being able to reach out and touch you.”
I felt exactly the same and squeezed his hand before asking, “What would you like to do today? Let’s make some plans.”
“Instead of planning it out, let’s go for a walk and see where we end up.”
“Won’t that just result in us wandering aimlessly around the city?”
Ignacio looked amused. “It’s a good thing I came along when I did, so I can teach you how to be spontaneous.”
“I’m plenty spontaneous!” Okay, no, I really wasn’t, but I didn’t think I was totally rigid, either. “If you want to meander around the city, I’m fine with that.”
“Great. Then we’ll see where the day takes us.” That spark of amusement still lit his dark eyes.
*****
After we ate and got dressed, we left my apartment hand-in-hand. When Ignacio asked me to pick a direction, I led him to nearby Alamo Square. The November day was sunny but cool, and I pulled up the zipper on my navy blue track jacket as we walked.
Maybe a dozen people were strolling through the sloped park, which meant it was empty by San Francisco standards. When we reached the center of it, we both turned to admire the postcard view. A row of colorful Victorians lined the foot of the park, and beyond them was a sprawling panorama, including San Francisco’s famous skyline.
“Beautiful,” Ignacio murmured. “You must come here all the time, right?”
“Sometimes I cut through the park on my morning run, but I don’t usually stop to enjoy the scenery. Today though, I’m not taking anything for granted.” Nearby, a few German tourists were posing for pictures, and I decided to follow their example. I took my phone from the pocket of my jeans, pulled Ignacio close, and snapped a selfie of the two of us with that iconic background.
I turned to look at him as the breeze stirred his hair and sunlight spilled across his face, highlighting his cheekbones and his long, thick lashes. Alamo Square didn’t have a damn thing on the view right in front of me. I kissed him tenderly, and he flashed me the sweetest smile.
After a few minutes, we started walking again. The city usually seemed a bit drab to me, and there were plenty of times when fog swallowed it up and turned it gray. But not that day. It was as bright and vivid as one of Ignacio’s paintings. I couldn’t help but think it was because of the company, every bit as much as the sunshine.
We headed downhill, toward the financial district. After a few minutes, Ignacio turned into a back alley, and I raised a brow when he said, “I want to show you something.”
In just a few moments, we came to a stunningly beautiful mural, rendered skillfully in spray paint on the back of an abandoned building. Two little boys stood hand-in-hand at the top of a daisy-dotted hill. They looked like a pair of miniature superheroes in their home-made masks, with their makeshift capes fanning out in the breeze. “That’s extraordinary,” I murmured. “I pass by this alley every day on the way to work, and I never knew this was here.”
“An acquaintance of mine created it about two months ago, after a long hiatus from painting.” He gestured at the name ‘Zane’ in the bottom, right corner. “It probably won’t be here for long, though. This building is on the market, and the new owners will probably paint over it.”
“They wouldn’t do that, would they? This isn’t graffiti, it’s art! Anyone could see that.”
“You’d think so, but over ninety percent of his paintings around the city are already gone. Most have either been painted over or vandalized. In a few cases, the buildings have been torn down.”
“What a tragic loss.” I grabbed my phone and snapped a photo of the two young superheroes, because I hated the idea of them disappearing forever.
When I turned toward Ignacio, I found he was watching me closely. “I was curious what you’d think of this,” he said. “Some people would call Zane’s paintings vandalism, since he doesn’t own the buildings that become his canvases. As a police officer, I thought you might share that opinion.”
I looked at the mural again and said, “I absolutely detest graffiti, because it’s ugly and disrespectful. But that’s not what this is, not by a long shot.” When Ignacio smiled at me, I asked, “Was this a test, and if so, did I pass?”
“This was just me learning who you are. But if it was a test, you would have passed with flying colors.”
I gestured at the painting and asked, “Why would an artist of this caliber tuck his work away in back alleys, where no one will ever see it?”
“Since what he’s doing is illegal, painting someplace more visible would almost guarantee he’d get arrested. But this mural isn’t hidden from everyone. In fact, I think its placeme
nt was very deliberate.” Ignacio looked up at the dilapidated six-story building on the other side of the alley. While San Francisco’s million-dollar real estate market was almost as well-known as its postcard-perfect tourist destinations, there were still pockets of poverty in the city, and the run-down apartment building looked pretty grim.
After a moment, I noticed a little boy of about seven or eight watching us from a grimy second-floor window, and I said, “I see what you mean.”
“Christian loves kids. That’s the artist’s real name. He often includes them in his artwork, and he seems to place the paintings where he thinks they’re the most needed. He also founded a nonprofit center that gives free art and music lessons to children.”
“Oh, you’re talking about Christian George.”
Ignacio nodded. “Do you know him?”
“Not well. I met him through the Dombrusos at some party or another. My friend Dante and his grandmother are always inviting me to these elaborate celebrations with hundreds of people. Nana Dombruso has an extended family of sorts, which seems to include half the gay men in the city.” I glanced at Ignacio and said, “Well, you know that, since she’s married to Ollie.”
He said, “That’s how I met Christian too, at one of Nana’s parties. You know, you and I may have been at some of the same events over this past year.”
“I doubt it. I would have remembered you. Besides, I turn down the majority of the Dombrusos’ invitations.”
“Why?”
I shrugged and said, “Partly, it’s the introvert in me. I’m happier alone than I am at a big party. Beyond that…I guess I sometimes feel like a stray the Dombrusos adopted. They probably only invite me to things out of pity.”
“As far as that goes, I suppose you and I are both strays the family picked up along the way. But why would you think they’d only invite you out of pity? Maybe they like you and enjoy your company.”
“But a guy like me really doesn’t add much to a Dombruso family get-together. They’re kind of like a vibrant, colorful buffet full of interesting things, and I’m a piece of white bread in the corner.” Ignacio stared at me for a long moment, and I fidgeted a bit and muttered, “What?”
“First of all, your analogy is truly bizarre. Segundo, is this really how you see yourself?”
I turned and started to leave the alley. “Let’s change the subject.”
Ignacio hurried to catch up with me and said, “How could you have such a low opinion of yourself?”
“I just see things as they are. I’m an average guy who lives an average life, and in most social situations, I’m not very interesting.”
“Before I argue that point, tell me, what am I in your buffet analogy?”
“You’re the centerpiece, a gorgeous, colorful dessert that everyone looks forward to.”
“So I’m sweet, but with no substance.”
We’d reached the street, and I stopped walking and turned to him. The pedestrians on the sidewalk adjusted their trajectory and flowed around us, as if we were an island in a river, and I told him, “That’s not what I meant, and you’re right, this analogy is awful. I’m no good with words.”
He grinned a little and said, “Actually, I find this fascinating. So, you’re white bread, and I’m a tart, and—”
“I never said that. I was trying to pay you a compliment by making you the best thing on the table. I certainly wasn’t calling you a tart!”
His grin got wider. “I know. I’m teasing with that word, because I knew it would fluster you. But on a serious note, we really need to address your self-esteem issues.”
“We really don’t.”
I started walking again, and Ignacio sighed and fell into step with me. After a minute or two, he caught my hand and told me, “Let’s cross here.”
We stopped on the corner, and I said, “I thought we didn’t have a destination.”
“We don’t, but there happens to be something fun about six blocks to our left, and I think you might like it.”
He led the way to an arcade on a narrow side street, which looked as though it had remained unchanged since the 1980s. Like the diner he’d taken me to, it could have easily been ruined by becoming hipster-retro-chic and trendy. But somehow it had been overlooked, a gem hidden in plain sight. As we stepped into the dimly-lit interior, through a glass door made opaque with faded videogame posters, I exclaimed, “Outstanding!”
We were the only customers. The left wall was lined with skee-ball games, and to our right, a heavy-set man of about sixty sat at a glass counter that was full of little trinkets to be won. The rest of the fairly large room was crowded with pinball and video game machines. While a couple of them looked new, the majority were about as old as I was.
The man looked up when we entered and exclaimed, “Iggy! You’re back!”
My companion shook the man’s hand enthusiastically and asked, “How’ve you been, Ralphie?”
“Same as ever. I see you brought a friend.”
“A very special one. Ralph, this is Cameron Doyle. He’s an arson investigator with the local police department. Cameron, meet Ralph Costa, owner of this very fine establishment.”
I shook Costa’s hand and said, “Pleasure to meet you. I never knew this arcade was here, otherwise I would have been in sooner.”
The man muttered, “Story of my life.”
Ignacio exchanged some bills for four rolls of quarters and handed me two of them. Then he pulled off his black leather jacket and headed straight for the skee-ball machines. I followed him and said, “I’d wondered about the little toys I found in your kitchen drawer. They’re from here, aren’t they?”
He nodded. “I love this place. It helps me think.” I thought that was interesting, given the fact that a lot of the machines beeped, buzzed, and broadcast little tunes to attract players. Ignacio hung his coat on a pinball machine and pushed back the sleeves of his black Henley as he said, “I’ll be right here until you tell me it’s time to leave. The skee-ball game has a two-player mode if you want to join me, but you don’t have to. There are all kinds of ways to amuse yourself in here.”
“I’m definitely playing with you, although I fully expect to lose spectacularly. I think the last time I played skee-ball, I was sixteen years old with a mouth full of braces, and chances are, I was probably wearing a Star Trek T-shirt.”
“I wish I’d known you back then.”
“Thank God you didn’t. I was a hopeless nerd, and you wouldn’t have wanted a thing to do with me.”
“I was exactly like you, minus the braces. I needed them, but couldn’t afford it. I finally got my teeth fixed just a couple of years ago, when I started making a decent income.”
“I just really can’t believe you were a nerdy kid.” Ignacio grinned at me, then slid his left arm out of his shirt, turned it palm-up, and held it out for me. I ran my hand over his tattoos and asked, “What am I looking for here?”
“You’ll know it when you see it.”
A moment later, I burst out laughing and exclaimed, “No way!” A little symbol in the shape of the original Star Trek insignia was nestled among the leaves and flowers.
“I’ve never shown that to anyone,” he said as he pushed his arm back through his sleeve.
“Only a fellow geek would even know what it was.”
“True.” He peeled the paper off one of the rolls of quarters and dropped most of them into the front pocket of his jeans. Then he loaded the coin slot as he said, “I’ve always loved science fiction. It’s pure escapism. If this world is getting me down, I just need to open a book or turn on a movie, and then I’m in a new one.”
“That’s exactly what I’ve always liked about it.”
For the next hour or so, we played round after round of skee-ball and talked animatedly about our shared love of sci fi. We burned through the rolls of quarters, and I got some more so we could keep playing and talking. On our last round, I somehow managed to land three balls in a row in the 100-point bonus s
pot in the top corner, and I whooped and jumped up and down like a kid as the machine spit out a long row of tickets.
Ignacio picked me up and spun me around as I laughed delightedly and yelled, “Did you see that? I can’t believe it!” He kept his arms around me when he put me down, and I kissed him and said, “Thank you for bringing me here. I’m having so much fun.”
“Did you work up an appetite? I know a great place that’s not far from here.”
“I did, actually, despite that massive breakfast.”
We gathered our jackets and the big handful of tickets we’d accumulated, which we brought to the counter. Ralph weighed them on a scale and wrote down a number, which he showed us as he said, “You have enough for two top row prizes, with a little left over.” He said that in all seriousness, as if he didn’t find it remotely odd that a couple of grown men would be cashing in tickets for toys.
Ignacio and I both crouched down so we could peer into the case, and I said, “Ninety percent of those tickets are yours, since that’s how often you won.”
“I only need three hundred points for what I want to get you.” He pointed at something in the case, and Ralph pulled out a tiny, stuffed, orange-and-white cat playing a plastic fiddle.
I laughed at that and said, “It’s me in cat form! Now what am I going to pick for you? Oh wait, I know.” I pointed to something in the middle row, and Ralph retrieved a red sports car. “This’ll go with the collection I found in your kitchen drawer.”
Ignacio smiled at me and said, “Perfect. It’s what I would have chosen for myself.”
“You’ve got about forty points left,” Ralph said. “Want it in candy?” Ignacio nodded eagerly, and the man filled a little white bag with an assortment of tootsie rolls, bubble gum, and brightly colored taffy.
My companion handed me a piece of gum, then told the arcade owner, “We’ll see you soon, Ralphie. Give your wife a hug for me.”
