by Damian Bloom
Luis nods, a serious look on his face. “I see…So, we’re still pretending you’re not a big mushy guy, who’s much better at doing sweet things for others than he gives himself credit for? Okay…”
“Mushy? Me? You’re not making any sense.” I lift a hand up to his forehead. “You should have told me you’re running a fever, Luis. We could have taken a rain check.”
Giggling, he slaps my hand away from his forehead. His eyes shine with gratitude as brightly as jewels.
Starting off with a delicious shrimp salad, I tell Luis about how I wrote large parts of my first novel in this place.
Luis smiles. “So this place is your lucky charm?”
I nod vigorously. “It is.” Lowering my voice, I whisper to him: “So now that I’ve revealed my secret to you, I’ll have to kill you.”
His face fills with mock horror. “Oh, no. What will you do?” One of his hand snakes over my forearm, sensually languid. “Choke me?” From under his long lashes, he shoots a flirtatious look that pierces my gut. Suddenly, my heart throbs as hard as my cock.
Luis leans in, whispering conspiratorially: “Maybe if I divulge my lucky charm, we’ll be even.”
I lower my voice, joining his game. “You have one too?”
“Of course,” Luis says, slipping his hand into mine. “I’m looking at him.”
The first part of our special night drifts by with easy conversation, good wine (at least for Luis, who doesn’t have to drive), and meaningful looks meant just for each other.
At the end of dinner, he pulls out his wallet, and I almost slap it out of his hand. “What are you doing? Don’t even think about paying for anything tonight. It’s your big perfect night, remember?”
Batting his eyelashes, Luis sticks his tongue out, then thanks me by planting a fierce kiss on my cheek on the way to the car.
Our next stop is the movie theater. I buy our drinks and snacks, even getting caramel popcorn for Luis, although I stand by my controversial view that sweet popcorn should be outlawed. Luis glides his hand into mine as soon as we sit down, and it stays there throughout the movie. Even when my palm gets sweaty.
I surprise him by choosing a romance. The sappiest one the theater offers. Although I brace myself for guaranteed boredom, it ends up not being so bad, and when the heroes finally earn their Happily Ever After, I catch myself let out a breath of relief.
“Did you like the movie?” I ask him as we exit.
Luis sighs, squeezing my hand. “Loved it. So sweet. And that soundtrack…It almost made me cry at the end.”
“Yeah, it was okay…”
Luis raises an eyebrow at me.
“What?” I ask.
Squinting, he jabs an elbow into my side. “You loved it, too. Admit it!”
“Loved it? I don’t know if I’d go that far.”
“Yeah, right.” He nudges me again. “You squeezed my hand so hard for the last twenty minutes that I couldn’t feel my fingers anymore.” He coils his arms around my middle, and we stumble out into the street together, a giggling, happy cluster of arms and legs.
“Now what?” he asks.
“You’ll see.”
When we arrive, the night club is already vibrating with upbeat music, but it’s not yet overcrowded.
“A night club?”
I nod, beaming at him, but while he tries to smile, his eyebrows teeter on the edge of a frown.
At first, we both lean against the bar, scanning our surroundings. Men of different ages, shapes, and sizes are either shaking it to the music or trying to woo each other, all under the multicolored disco lights.
“I need to use the bathroom,” Luis shouts into my ear, trying to drown out the noise. “Can you please get me a beer?”
I nod, and with a kiss on my cheek, he sets off down a dark hallway.
While he still seems to be having a good time, some of Luis’s excitement dissipated when we entered the club. I can’t help feeling like I dropped the ball on this one. Maybe there’s something I misunderstood.
Man, the music really is deafening. Perhaps I’m getting too old for this. Not that I’ve ever been too much of a party animal. I’d very much prefer being back at home, cuddled up with Luis and a book like most nights. But today isn’t about me.
While I wait for Luis, I watch the people. The night is young, and very few men look drunk already. The dance floor is sparsely sprinkled with dancers, and they’re still holding back, their moves awkward and stifled.
But across the room, from a couch buried in darkness, two eyes shine with recognition. Two large, round eyes I recognize as well. Oh, shit.
I turn my face away briskly, but after a few seconds, from the corner of my eye, I can tell he’s approaching. He wades to me on unsure legs, like the walking dead. Please be sober.
“Adam.” His voice slurs.
Dammit. He’s definitely drunk.
“Ollie.” I turn to him with a friendly smile. No, not friendly. Polite. Restrained.
A frown as deep as a cut splits his forehead. His gaze smolders. But, above all, he seems confused to see me. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
So many times, Ollie tried to ask me out—to dinner, on coffee dates, or here, to his favorite club—but I refused him every time. I’d imagined that as long as our interaction didn’t leave the bedroom, we were safe—no one would get hurt.
“I’m here with…” A friend? That’s what Luis is to me, right? Then why does the word feel like only a partial truth?
“Wow, the bathrooms here are filthy.” Luis pops up from behind me. My broad back must have blocked his view of Ollie because he stops to take the young man in from head to toe. So does Ollie, his eyes scanning every inch of Luis, drawing obvious conclusions. He looks from Luis to me, and his lower lip quivers.
“Uh, Luis, this is Ollie. I’ve told you about him.”
Luis nods. He knows exactly who he’s looking at, and he’s finally picking up on the awkwardness of the situation. Maybe he also notices Ollie’s drunken totter.
The muscles around Ollie’s eyes tighten with suspicion. “Told him what?” Over his shoulder, I spot Ollie’s company—two men around his age who I’ve never met—eye us warily. His chest puffing up with anger, Ollie tries to make himself look bigger than he is. “Told him how I’d show up at your house every night, and you wouldn’t open up even though I’d pound on the door and beg?” He sways to one side, grabs the counter to keep from toppling over. “Or maybe how you blocked my number so that I couldn’t text you anymore? Did you guys have a good laugh?” He turns his venomous eyes to Luis.
I don’t like the way Ollie looks at him, like Luis’s got anything to do with what happened between us. I step to the right, shielding Luis with half of my body. Ollie, as drunk as he is, notices and coughs up a bitter chuckle. “Don’t worry, Adam dear. I won’t make a scene or start a fight. Your boy-toy is safe.” A strong yellow light hits him square in the face. He looks so much older than I remember him. So much unhappier, too. “Well, as safe as he can be with you around.”
Ollie leans against the bar and orders a cocktail. I wonder how many he’s had already.
I try to relax my shoulders. Luis doesn’t say anything, but discomfort wafts off of him like heat off a radiator. Ollie eyes him over his shoulder. “Luis, was it? You seem like a sweet guy.”
Luis lays a hand on my back for support. “Thanks,” he mumbles.
Ollie’s bloodshot eyes widen into a scary and crazy-looking sight. “Obviously, you’re free to do whatever you want, and you don’t need to listen to a resentful drunk, but I won’t be able to sleep tonight if I don’t say something.” He’s hard to understand, speaking as if his tongue has swollen up to no longer fit in his mouth. “So if I can just give you a tiny piece of advice, Luis”—his cocktail sloshes in the glass from the shaking of his hand—“stay away from him.”
My shoulders tense right back up.
“You don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into. This man
”—he points to me with his glass—“is the most selfish asshole I’ve ever met. So run as fast and as far as you can because as soon as he’s tired of you, he’ll throw you away like you’re garbage.”
I turn to Luis and find him angry, his face all sharp edges and shadows. “He’s not-”
Ollie silences him with a dismissive flick of his wrist. “Save it.” Sighing, he shrugs and directs his gaze to the ceiling, like he’s praying. “I tried. You’ll see for yourself.” With that, he starts toward his table.
My stomach churns. None of this sits right with me. I never meant to hurt him in any way. No, I didn’t love him, despite how hard he hoped I would. And yes, at one point, I had to put an end to our contact. For his own good. But he has no idea how much I regret the way everything turned out.
The beat of the music and thump of my heart mix as they throb in my ears. “Ollie.” I grab his forearm. He whirls on his heels as quickly and wildly as a tornado and tosses his drink in my face.
“Don’t you dare touch or talk to me,” he snarls.
Alerted by the outburst, Ollie’s friends spring to their feet, ready to step in if I dare retaliate.
But I step back, wiping at my drenched face.
Luis clutches my hand, and we dash toward the exit under dozens of curious stares.
“Am I cursed or something?” Luis says when we’re back in the car. “Can I go on one date without it ending in a physical altercation?” We’re both still dazed. “Poor guy. He’s obviously still hurting.”
I nod. “I was hoping that by now, he might have found what he was looking for and moved on.”
“However he feels, it doesn’t excuse that outburst.”
I shrug. “Maybe I could have handled things better than I did. But I’m not sure what I could have done differently. We agreed from the start that we would never move past a friends-with-benefits relationship.”
Laying a reassuring hand on my arm, Luis says: “As far as I’m concerned, you did nothing wrong. And, just so you know, I didn’t listen to a thing he said.”
My brief connection with Ollie passes before my eyes like the streets of the city on our drive home. “I could have put an end to it much sooner. The signs were there. The lingering gazes, the little presents he would make me, all the times he would try to spend the night. I knew he’d started to want more, but I didn’t want to say goodbye just yet.” I sigh. “Because it was nice, it was comfortable. It was what I wanted.”
Luis lays a hand on mine over the stick shift.
“He’s right,” I say. “I really am selfish.”
“You’re not.” Luis’s tone is adamant. “Just look at tonight.”
“It really wasn’t much.”
Luis scoffs. “Can you please give yourself more credit? You remembered and recreated my dream date, to replace an unpleasant memory. This was honestly the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me. If that doesn’t show how caring and attentive you are, I don’t know what does.”
I feel my face warm up. Am I…blushing? To mask it, I roll my eyes. “I did mess it up with the night club, though, didn’t I?”
He pauses. “It was unexpected, I guess. I didn’t really understand why you brought us there.”
“Well, I thought it was what you said you wanted.”
“When?”
“When you were telling me about your dream date. Dinner, movie, dancing. That’s what you said.”
“Oh.” Luis begins to laugh. He rubs my arm as I clutch the steering wheel, and listening to his laughter, I start to snicker, too, not sure why. “That’s not what I meant. I was thinking of something more old-school. More romantic. Like slow-dancing, for example. Not a night club.”
Luis surprises me with a kiss when I park the car in our driveway. My driveway. I cup his face into my hands and pull him closer. Awkwardly, I push my seat back, and he climbs into my lap.
“Thank you for a perfect night.” He leans his forehead to mine, his sweet breath tickling my upper lip.
“No,” I say. “It’s not perfect yet.”
I turn the radio back on and ease Luis out of the car. He waits in confusion as I scroll through my music. After connecting the phone to the car, I play one of my most mellow playlists. The first song rolls lazily out of the speakers, vaguely familiar, like a memory of another life.
Wrapped in his own arms, Luis shields himself from the cold night air. I slip my jacket off and help him into it, then roll the sleeves up so that I can reach his hands.
After a step back, I do another bow.
What if all this counts for nothing, everything I thought I’d be?
Like a secret, the music’s only loud enough for us to hear. Although chilly, there’s softness in the night, just like there’s nothing but softness in my touch when I squeeze Luis to my chest and we begin to sway.
What if by the time I realize, it’s too far behind to see?
I press my lips to Luis’s head. His hair smells like my shampoo. “Full disclosure: I’ve got two left feet,” I confess.
His chuckle rumbles in my chest. “You’re doing fine.” We wobble together in the driveway, slowly and steadily turning in a circle.
The song still knocks at the door of an undefined memory.
“What?” Luis asks, tilting his head back to stare into my face.
“I can’t tell what this song reminds me of.”
I feel at home when I’m around you…
He grins and winks. “Does it remind you of me?” he asks teasingly.
I kiss his forehead again. “Yes, I think it does.”
And I’ll gladly say again,
I hope the encore lasts forever…
Finally, realization strikes, and, to the sound of the music, I’m transported to another night, another Adam, another Luis, another moment when his stunning eyes set my chest on fire. At the time, I couldn’t yet know that we’d end up here, twirling like a couple of drunk grandpas, but I remember how, staring at his sleeping face, my insides fluttered ominously. I remember how this song inexplicably popped into my mind that night, as if traveling from here and now, through time, to find me. The night when he fell asleep on my chest, long before I could know that one day, his sleeping in my arms would be a nightly occurrence.
Now there’s time for us to spend.
“It reminds me,” I whisper into his hair, “of magic.”
Because tonight is magic, and so is this song. Magic flickers around our heads like fireflies, our lips are dusted with it when we kiss, and Luis is entirely made of it.
Maybe in time, the song goes. Maybe one day. The world fades away. And although my face still faintly smells of alcohol, Ollie is light-years away because I’m floored by the gravity of this moment. Right now, I’m free to be whoever I want. To start again.
Life throbs with possibility.
Stay forever, you know more than anyone.
Luis licks his lips before he speaks. “Adam…”
And it’s you that knows my darkness…
“Yes?” My chest expands. It tingles with healing, like an old wound. My tongue itches with the urge to make Luis dozens of promises. I haven’t had a drop of alcohol tonight, but I could swear I’m drunk out of my mind.
I squeeze Luis closer to me. His eyes are glazed over, and he looks as disoriented as I feel. “I…” he stammers. “I love-”
Before he can finish his thought, his ringtone blares over the song. Loud and insufferable, it’s impossible to ignore, so Luis fishes it out of his pocket and frowns at the screen.
With an apologetic expression, he picks up and hurries through the conversation. “Huh? Yeah, okay, sure, you can have it. Yes, yes, I’m sure. Okay, Tanner, okay. Yeah, no worries. You didn’t bother me. Thanks.”
Sliding his phone back into his pants pocket, Luis shakes his head. “Tanner,” he says, like that’s explanation enough. “I thought it might be something important.”
“Was it?”
He winces. “No, there’s just some
ice cream I’ve got in the freezer that he’s got his eye on. Told him he could have it.”
The song is over. When I separate from Luis, the night feels colder. I lock the car, and we go inside.
“What did you mean to say earlier?” I ask, pinning him to a wall.
Luis rubs his forehead. “Right.” His face blushes all the way to the tip of his nose, and he avoids my gaze in a way that alerts me whatever he’s about to say next will be a lie. “I wanted to tell you that I love everything about tonight. Thank you again.”
There’s something he’s not telling me, something important that he wanted to confess but has changed his mind about. Wondering what it might have been, I only come up with guesses that make me feel sick. I let my arms fall along my body. “What are friends for, huh?”
Luis’s face quivers, confused in between expressions. “Right.”
I don’t know for whose sake I said that—a poorly veiled reminder of the nature and limits of our relationship.
Before bed, as I make two cups of tea and Luis brushes his teeth, I think of Ollie—especially of how unhappy he looks now—and I find that the guilt has returned in full force. Maybe it never left.
He used to be so much like Luis—a bundle of smiles and giggles. Now, his face is a minefield of dark circles and deep lines. He’s so young, too. Just like Luis. And when you’re young like that, still in the age of your first heartbreak, it messes you up in ways only you can understand. I shudder because that was me years ago, being carved with scars I still hide under my skin today.
I’ve messed Ollie up, and it’s only right that I should feel guilty.
Today’s truth is that I’ve wronged Ollie, and I’m sorry. The extra truth is that I’m terrified of doing the same to Luis.
Perhaps I’m not that man anymore. What if it’s different with Luis? Maybe I’m capable of more now. I allow myself to entertain the idea at least for an evening. Even adults should have the luxury of believing in magic from time to time.
22
