To My Future Number 1 Fan

by L. A. Witt

  But damn it, I wanted the weekend to work. I had a feeling about Brian. A gut feeling. Something I’d never felt before, something I couldn’t explain, but something I hoped wasn’t just my imagination. I wanted to believe the looks he’d given me—the long eye contact, those beautiful smiles—had meant something. That he hadn’t just been starstruck.

  I didn’t think he was starstruck. Not when he’d smiled at me the same way he had at the diner back when I’d been a no-name nobody with every intention of crawling back home a failure. Whatever had been there in the diner that day had been there on the talk show, and I was hanging a lot more hope than I probably should have on it being something. Interest? Attraction? Some kind of tiny spark that could be fanned into friendship? I wanted to believe it could be fanned into more than friendship, but I tried not to let my mind go there. Not yet. There was no point in thinking about things like that until I knew we could be friends. After that, we’d see what happened.

  Just don’t let tonight be a disaster.

  Or tomorrow.

  Or the next day.

  Chapter 8

  Brian

  As my car idled in front of Adam’s hotel, I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans for the fourth time. Over and over, I told myself there was no reason to be nervous. He wouldn’t have come all this way to see me if he was just humoring me, right?

  But what if he’d come all this way and left disappointed?

  Oh God. No pressure.

  I pushed out a long breath as I watched the hotel lobby’s glass doors. It was a chain hotel. Not quite a no-tell motel, but not exactly the Four Seasons either. Perfectly nice for me—I’d stayed there while I was in town interviewing for my job—but not a place I’d expect to see a movie star. Now that I thought about it, that might have been the point. The tabloids always complained about him being too slippery for them—staying in low-key hotels, driving generic cars, arriving at an event two hours early so he could sneak in before the press showed up—so it really wasn’t surprising. And I appreciated it too. I got the impression he had a hard time going anywhere, even while being slippery, without an entourage of photographers, and the thought of being trailed by those people made my skin crawl.

  My phone buzzed.

  On my way down.

  My thundering pulse ratcheted up even higher. Oh God. Oh God. Adam was on his way down from his room to meet me. He’d be here any second. And maybe once he was in the car and the anticipation was over, I’d calm the hell down. Maybe I’d—

  The automatic doors opened, and Adam Jacobsen strolled out into the afternoon sunshine.

  My mouth instantly went dry. He was in casual clothes—a Pet Shop Boys T-shirt and artfully torn jeans that sat just right on his narrow hips—with his hair spiked as it often was. There was a little stubble around his short beard, as if he hadn’t bothered shaving today, and of course, he rocked that look. Was there a look he didn’t rock? Not that I was aware of.

  And me? Calm down? Not a chance.

  Especially not when he was coming right toward my car. He ducked his head a bit, probably to make sure he had the right car, and when our eyes met, he smiled. Then he opened the door, and…

  And he was in my car.

  “Hey,” he said. “It’s good to finally see you.”

  “Yeah.” I swallowed, smiling despite my nerves. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come earlier and—”

  “Don’t worry about it.” He buckled his seatbelt. “I don’t want you getting in trouble at work because of me.”

  You mean like I almost did today because I couldn’t think about anything but you?

  I cleared my throat and put the car in gear. “So, um, you hungry? There’s a ton of places here in Everett we could eat, or I could take you into Seattle.”

  Adam shrugged. “I could eat. You know the area better than I do, so why don’t you pick?”

  I gulped, trying to look calmer than I felt. “Okay. Well.” I paused to pull out of the parking lot. “Is there anything you don’t eat?”

  He took a deep breath and started ticking things off on his fingers. “Meat, seafood, eggs, gluten, dairy, nuts, anything that’s been processed or cooked.” He paused. “Oh, and cauliflower.” Beat. “And mushrooms.”

  “Um.” I glanced at him. “Anything else?”

  Adam chuckled. “I’m just messing with you. I’m deathly allergic to shellfish, but besides that, I’ll eat anything.”

  “Are you sure? Because if we drove around Seattle for ten or fifteen minutes, I guarantee I could find a place that won’t serve all that other stuff.”

  He laughed out loud, which made me shiver.

  Good God—Adam Jacobsen is really in my car?

  Oblivious to my fanboy moment, he said, “Great. So Seattle is just like LA, then.”

  “Minus all the movie stars and plus some rain, yeah.”

  “Oh Lord.” He made a playful groaning sound, and he was probably rolling his eyes. “Well, as far as food, I really am easy.” He turned to me. “What’s your favorite place?”

  I chewed the inside of my cheek. “I have a few.”

  “Okay. Why don’t we go to one of those?”

  Because if things don’t go so well this weekend, I don’t want to think about that every time I walk through the door of a favorite restaurant?

  I pushed that thought away. “Do you like Thai?”

  “Oh. Dude.” He put a hand to his chest. “I love Thai.”

  Grinning, I glanced at him. “Fair warning—this place will ruin you for Thai restaurants forever.”

  “Bring it on.”

  I changed lanes and followed the signs toward the I-5. “It’s about twenty minutes from here. About twice that if traffic hasn’t settled down yet.”

  “No problem.” He sighed almost wistfully. “Man, sometimes I miss living in a place where I don’t have to double my travel time during rush hour.”

  “Must be nice,” I muttered. “I grew up in Orange County, and then moved here. Traffic has kind of been my reality since forever.”

  “Not me. I grew up in a town of five hundred people, two hundred miles from anything you’d actually call a city. Like, I lived in the Midwest and I had to drive an hour through nothing to find a Walmart. The first time I actually got stuck in a traffic jam—like real, honest to God gridlock—I almost panicked because I had no idea how to do it.” He chuckled. “Six months in LA, and I was the guy grumbling about the stupid tourist who couldn’t navigate.”

  I laughed. “Well, up here we grumble about the stupid Californians.” Beat. “No offense.”

  “None taken.” He shifted a little, and as he spoke, I realized he’d turned to mostly face me. “So now that we can actually chat without me getting dragged off to do other shit—what do you do? Your job, I mean?”

  Instinctively, I steeled myself just like I always did before I answered that question. “I’m an RN at a family medical practice. So basically I ask people embarrassing questions and jab them with needles.”

  “Oh, you’re that guy,” he said with mock wariness. “Vampires. All of you.”

  I laughed. “Yep. I’m that guy.” I let my guard down a bit, easing my grip on the wheel since he hadn’t snarked about my profession. Or at least, not in a mean-spirited way. “I actually wanted to be an ER nurse, but about two weeks into my ER rotation, I was like nope.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Too much stress,” I admitted. “I know some nurses who thrive in that environment, but I just couldn’t cope. Especially not on those long shifts.”

  “I can imagine,” he said softly. “I don’t know how you do it at all, but in an ER?” He shuddered. “No thanks.”

  “Right? My hat’s off to the people who do it, but that’ll never be me.”

  He studied me for a moment. “You like what you do, though?”

  “Oh yeah, I love it.” I paused to change lanes and get around a minivan that was going way too slow. “It’s not as exciting as I had envisioned when I fi
rst went into nursing school, but I’m not wired for that excitement anyway. These days, it’s one patient at a time, normal shifts, and usually nothing catastrophic.”

  “Usually?”

  “Well, it happens. One of the docs in the practice sees a lot of elderly patients, so we’ve had a few heart attacks and strokes happen in the office. Sometimes people come in with something that seems minor, and it escalates into an emergency in a matter of minutes.”

  “Jesus.” He squirmed beside me. “That would be terrifying.”

  “It’s scary, but I mean, we’re trained for it. It’s what we do. I just couldn’t handle the nonstop revolving door of crises in an ER. I like a more peaceful life.”

  “That’s good, though,” Adam said. “That you know your limits, I mean. It wouldn’t do you or your patients any good if you stuck with it even when you knew it wasn’t for you.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I tell myself. It was a blow to the pride, realizing I couldn’t actually do it, but I found my niche and I’m happy.”

  “That’s about all anyone can ask for, you know?”

  “Exactly.”

  We were both quiet for a moment as I navigated through some thick but fast-moving traffic. Then Adam broke the silence. “I’m curious—do you catch any flak for being a male nurse?”

  “All the time.” I rolled my eyes. “My family and most of my friends are awesome about it, but usually when I tell strangers, I get a weird look. And once in a while, I get patients who rather loudly suggest that I shouldn’t be alone with women or kids.”

  “Seriously?” Adam tsked. “People are such idiots.”

  “Right? They don’t think twice about their wives or kids being alone with the male doctors, but a nurse? Clearly he’s got to be a pervert.”

  He sighed, shaking his head. “You gotta wonder how many people get scared out of that job because of that shit. A lot of guys who’d probably be really good at it.”

  “Lots,” I grumbled. “At least three dropped out of my RN program because they were getting too much grief, either from patients or their own social circles. Two of them went on to be paramedics instead because at least they could do the exact same fucking thing without anyone assuming they were predators. Or gay. Because clearly only a gay man would become a nurse.” I paused. “I mean, okay, I’m a bad example because I am gay, but still.”

  A little zing of panic rushed through me. As if Adam—openly gay Adam—would be put off by me casually coming out to him. That was the stupidest thing ever. It just kind of came with the territory of having to come out a million times in my life and never quite knowing how someone would take it.

  Adam just muttered, “As if that has anything to do with your job. Fucking tools.”

  I was more relieved than I should have been that he hadn’t missed a beat or even seemed to think twice about me admitting I was gay. Awesome. Now that little detail was out of the way and I didn’t have to waste any more energy figuring out how to casually slip it into conversation. It was out there. I was gay. He was gay. Done. And as a bonus, if there was any chance of this being a date and not just him making up for disappearing after the talk show, the is he/isn’t he question wouldn’t be an issue.

  A date. Yeah, right. Hope springs eternal, but there is such a thing as getting your hopes too high.

  “So, um.” I cleared my throat. “What made you want to go into acting?”

  “Oh, a lot of things. I got bitten by the acting bug in middle school drama, and then I also figured out that Hollywood was a million miles from my hometown.”

  I glanced at him. “Looking for a way out?”

  “Looking for any way out.” He laughed dryly, almost self-consciously. “I even tried to take up music in high school so I’d have double the excuses to take off to LA after graduation. I, uh, don’t have the chops for that.”

  “I can relate,” I said. “It’s kind of moot, though, since I have way too much stage fright for music or acting.”

  “Stage fright? Really?”

  “Oh yeah. Scared me right out of drama after my first speaking role. I hated all those eyes on me.” I didn’t mention the sneers of my bullies or their cruel heckling.

  “Wow. You seemed fine on the talk show.”

  “Fine?” I shook my head, laughing. “Are you kidding? I was so nervous! I was just trying not to puke.”

  Adam laughed. “Oh, I so feel you.”

  “What? Really?” I glanced at him in disbelief.

  “Hell yeah. I mean, put me in front of cameras or on a stage, and I’m fine. But meeting someone I’ve been wanting to reconnect with for five years?” His voice suddenly sounded shy. “On live TV? You better believe that terrified me.”

  I shot him another wide-eyed look, and, my God, he was blushing. “I didn’t think you were nervous at all.”

  “I was. Believe me.” He paused. “But I’m really glad we did it. And I felt like an ass for taking off right after. I wanted to stay and actually meet you without the cameras rolling. So, thanks for giving me another chance.”

  I had no idea what to say. He’d seemed so calm and cool on the show. And I hadn’t realized he’d really wanted to see me again, rather than doing it out of a sense of obligation after he’d left so abruptly. Now I felt like an ass for thinking he’d been an ass.

  Finally, I managed, “You’re welcome. I’m… I’m really glad we’re doing this.”

  “Me too.”

  I turned to him again, and we exchanged smiles before I faced the road. This was real?

  A sign for a particular offramp was coming up, and I put on my signal to change lanes.

  “We’re almost there,” I said. “Prepare to be ruined for Thai food for the rest of your life.”

  Adam laughed, sounding more relaxed and easy than he had since he’d gotten in the car. “Let’s do this.”

  Chapter 9

  Adam

  “Holy shit,” I groaned happily as I laid my fork down on the empty plate. “You were not joking about this place.”

  “Right?” Brian put his fork down too. “I discovered it like two years ago, and I could pretty much live here.”

  “If I lived within a hundred miles, I’d eat here so often I wouldn’t be able to fit into my clothes again. So worth it, though.”

  “Uh-huh.” Brian turned and gestured at the waiter, probably to get the bill. Facing me, he said, “So we’ve got the whole evening. Anything you want to see or do tonight?”

  I’m already seeing everything I came to see.

  I shrugged as I picked up my water glass. “I could stand to walk some of this dinner off if there’s a place we can do that.”

  “Oh yeah. Tons of places. In fact there are some parks we could…” He paused, his expression suddenly turning a little shy. “Would you, um, object if we swung by my house and picked up my dog?”

  “Of course not.” I smiled. “I’d love to meet your dog.”

  That eased the sudden nervousness in his face, and he smiled back. “Fair warning—she’s a little rowdy. I mean, she’s well-behaved, but she’s young, so lots of energy.”

  “Sounds like my kind of dog.”

  When the check came, we split it, and then left the restaurant. The instant I was in the passenger seat, I decided my lingering nerves were the only thing keeping me awake. Though this morning’s flight had been short and uneventful, flying always wore me out, and I also hadn’t slept much last night. Then we’d had this enormous—and amazing—meal, and now I was ready to curl up in the backseat and say goodnight.

  I didn’t want to waste what little time I had with Brian, though. There was no telling if we’d see each other after this weekend, so I wanted to be here for every second of it. Walking around a park with his dog would probably be exactly what I needed to keep my eyes open; I just had to avoid nodding off between now and then.

  We’d kept the conversation light during dinner. Mostly comparing notes on different cuisines, culinary disasters we’d experi
enced firsthand, and reminiscing about long-closed restaurants that we wished were still open. For all I’d worried about being able to find something to talk about, or about connecting enough to keep a conversation going, we’d done just fine so far. We were a little quiet now, but I suspected he was getting hit with lazy puppy syndrome just like I was. After that much delicious Thai food, a food coma was inevitable.

  “Any chance we can eat there again before I leave?” I asked.

  “Dude, say the word.” He glanced at me, smiling as if he had no idea how much that adorable smile turned my insides to liquid. “We can eat there for lunch and dinner every day you’re here, and you won’t hear me complain.”

  “Awesome. But if you’ve got other favorite places, I’m game. You haven’t led me astray so far.”

  He chuckled and kept driving.

  We shot the breeze a little, mostly about traffic jam horror stories. About fifteen minutes after we’d left the Thai place, he parked in front of a two-story gray house.

  “You want to come in?” He shut off the car. “I’m just going to put on her leash and grab the bag of treats, so it’ll only take a minute.”

  “Sure.” I shrugged and unbuckled my seatbelt. Truth was, I was curious as hell about Brian and where he lived, so I jumped at the chance to have a peek into his world before we left with the dog.

  I followed him onto the front porch, and we hadn’t even cleared the top step before thundering paws and clicking nails approached. A low woof came through the door, followed by a thump-thump-thump that I guessed was a large tail wagging against the wall. I’d seen some photos of her, so I knew she was a big dog, but she sounded like a herd of Clydesdales.

  Brian unlocked the door and pushed it open. “Hey, sweetie. Did you miss—”

  The enormous German Shepherd shot right past him and started bouncing in front of me, whacking him with her long tail as she did.