by Lisa Shelby
I love this girl. Okay, we aren’t girls anymore; we’re thirty, but she and Alex will always be my girls. Emily and I each hold an arm open and wait for Alex to join us, and the three of us form a little circle with our arms around each other.
“I’m so happy for you, chica.” I whisper and mean it from the bottom of my heart. I’m happy for Emily and Jonathan, but tonight the harsh reality that is my life just bitch-slapped me right in the face.
I. Am. Thirty.
It’s not that I want to be pregnant—that’s not it at all. I have no desire to be a mother, but both Alex and Emily have found their partners in life and sometimes…well, I feel as though I’m simply floundering through my life.
Yes, I have a job I like, am pretty dang good at, and it provides a nice living. Not to mention my life is full of amazing friends whom I wouldn’t trade for the world. One look around this room is evidence enough that I don’t ever have to be lonely if I don’t want to be. But who wants to always be the third wheel? I want to be a part of an “us.” And even though I don’t want children, I still want to fall in love. I want to find the one.
But so far…no luck.
After the excitement dies down, we all find our seats and enjoy a nice meal with just the adults. Emily and Jonathan are not only expecting but are also the parents to my nine-year-old goddaughter, Ireland. Alex is married to Emily’s brother, Mick, and they have a one-and-a-half-year-old daughter, Ava. Gabby and Devon are here too, and even though they aren’t married, our resident high school sweethearts are the proud parents of two little boys, Isaac and Noah.
Devon was in the Marine Corps years ago with Jonathan, and when Jonathan and Emily got together they were an added bonus that came along with Jonathan. Gabby and Devon instantly became a part of our little hand-picked family. Their youngest, Noah, is only a few months old so tonight is one of their first nights out in a while.
Riley, Mick’s best friend, is here too. Even he has a girlfriend and seems to be getting serious and ready to settle down.
And then…well then, there is Liam and myself.
Liam, Jonathan’s best friend from back home, just moved here from Georgia. We’re the only two single people in our group. Liam doesn’t seem to have the desire to settle down that I do. At least, that’s the impression I get from him. He doesn’t seem like the commitment kind of guy. He’s all about having fun and not taking life too seriously, if the stories I’ve heard are true.
I usually don’t dwell on my age and relationship status, but moments like these bring it to the forefront of my mind.
But, tonight isn’t about me. It’s about Emily and Jonathan, and I need to snap out of my internal pity party and celebrate with my friends.
Standing, I clear my throat and tap my chopstick against my glass.
“Before the evening is over and our glasses are empty, I want to make a toast.” I lift my glass to the table full of those that mean the most to me…and Liam. “Mr. and Mrs. Kelly, thank you for sharing your news with all of us and for the new addition to our little family. I couldn’t be happier for both of you.” I look around the room to make sure that I gain eye contact with each and every person at our table and then back to the expecting parents. “I love you guys!”
“Cheers!”
We all tap glasses and take our sips be it wine, beer, or water, and our server delivers the checks. The night is starting to wind down and goodbyes are being given.
“Are we really calling it a night? It’s only nine-thirty,” Liam whines.
“Dude, we have babysitters to pay and wives to take advantage of.” Mick chimes in with a wink toward Alex. She rolls her eyes because she’s used to her husband’s antics after all these years. We all are, but he still causes us all to roll our eyes regularly.
We wouldn’t want him any other way.
I can tell that Liam is feeling a little lost. He’s new to Portland, and we’re really the only people he knows. I can’t believe I’m about to do this, but here goes nothing.
“Hey, Liam, I’m headed to a friend’s birthday at a club downtown. You’re more than welcome to come along.”
“You sure? I don’t want to crash or anything, but I really don’t want to go home at nine-thirty on a Saturday night.”
“I’m sure, as long as you’re on your best behavior. Think you can manage that?”
Looking around the room like I must be talking about anyone but him, he replies. “I’m not sure what in the world you are implying, Miss Holsted, but yes, I promise to behave.” He holds out his pinky finger and wiggles it in my direction.
Reluctantly, I link my pinky finger with his and seal my fate.
As we drive through the streets of Portland in my tiny Prius, I realize I have never been alone with Liam Fanua, and boy, if he isn’t a presence. He has to be at least four or five inches over six feet tall, and if his height, broad chest, ebony hair, deep brown eyes, and beautiful, dark Polynesian skin weren’t enough to make any woman swoon, throw in his tattoos, and most women seem to melt right at his feet.
Besides his swoon-worthy looks, there is another thing about Liam that I do appreciate…he doesn’t let silly things like uncomfortable silences get awkward. The minute we got in the car, he started flipping through my satellite radio stations and would stop and sing along to every song he knew without a care in the world.
Eventually, he turns the stereo down. “So, where we headed, little lady?”
“Aw, now what fun would it be if I told you where we were going?”
“All right, I can live with that. I like a girl who likes to keep things unpredictable.” He wags his eyebrows in a cocky, Liam sort of way, and as much as I hate that it does, one little butterfly sneaks out and takes a mini-tour of my belly.
“I bet you do, Liam. I bet you do.” Changing the subject, I ask, “So, how are you liking Portland so far?”
“I like it. It’s a lot different than Savannah, but the people seem nice. I figure I have the tattoos, and I’ve got some flannels in my closet so, I just need to grow myself a beard, recycle some shit, and I’ve got myself my own little Portland starter kit, don’t cha think?”
“You are a dork, but you are so right.” I can’t help but chuckle at his accurate observation of a lot of the men in our city. “Oh, and don’t forget to bike. Be sure to bike to work at least once a week and you’re all set!”
I know I was born and raised here and I am a little biased, but after eight years living in California with Emily, I know for certain that I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else.
“Duly noted but who you callin’ a dork? You just heard my mad car singing skills. Not just anyone can perform at my level. I would say it’s more geek-level status than dork-level, if you ask me.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Just sayin’.”
“That was some performance all right, but I would appreciate it if you didn’t share any more of your mad skills in such a small space. Just sayin’.”
He turns his big frame in the tight space of the passenger seat, and in mock horror, he acts appalled. “Why do you like to hurt me like you do? You cut me to the bone, little missy. We artists are sensitive souls. You know that, right?”
“Nice try. I think it takes a lot more than insulting your version of Car Pool Karaoke to cut you that deep, you big lug,” I say as I easily parallel park my little car on the streets of one of the more interesting parts of town.
He’s checking out the neighborhood, and I can tell he’s leery. “Where exactly are we, Cami?”
“Welcome to Chinatown, my friend,” I chirp, still not letting him in on where we’re headed.
I lock up the car, and as we saunter down the street in the direction of Burnside, I notice him make a point of walking on my right side between me and the street.
I notice because this is something my grandfather taught my father. My grandfather said a man should always walk between a woman and the street so if anything was thrown out of a car window or if a car drove through a puddle an
d splashed dirty water up and onto the sidewalk, it would hit the man and not the woman. I remember my dad telling my sister and me that a man that’s any kind of gentleman, will always open a door for you, hold his coat over your head in the rain, and will walk between you and the street. Looks like somebody taught Liam at least one of those things.
A short minute later, we’re standing in front of Embers.
“Cami…”
“Yes, Liam?” I ask, knowing he’s just spotted the rainbow flag blowing proudly in the cold December breeze.
With his arms crossed in front of his huge chest and his head tilted slightly to the side, he narrows his eyes at me. “Am I getting a little more than I bargained for tonight?”
“Welcome to Embers! If you’re in the mood for dancing the night away or taking in a drag show, then Embers is the gay bar for you!” I’m hoping that if I stay positive he won’t try to bail.
“Huh, okay then. I’ve never been to a gay bar. Let’s do this.” He rubs his hands together as if things are starting to get exciting and opens the door for me. Not the reaction I thought I would get. I must say, I am pleasantly surprised.
And…I didn’t miss that he opened the door for me. Two out of three isn’t bad.
It’s only ten o’clock so there isn’t a line yet, and when we get to the bouncer inside the front door, Liam quickly gets out his wallet and pays our cover charge. The bouncer asks for my ID, and I make sure to give him a sincere thank you for making my night.
“You didn’t have to pay my cover, but thank you. I owe you a drink,” I say as we’re greeted by flashing lights, loud dance beats, and sticky floors when we pass through the next set of doors and enter the club.
The bar is to the right of us, and straight ahead are a bunch of tables and the dance floor just beyond that. The dance floor is small but has two levels. The upper level consists of a small cat walk against the wall and a couple of platforms around the dance floor, where cute boys in short shorts and tight tank tops dance their asses off for the patrons below.
I stand on my tiptoes, but the fact that he is over a foot taller than me means he still has to bend down to hear me.
God, he smells good.
“If dancing isn’t your thing or you get bored, just walk past the bar down that way,” I say as I point toward the end of the bar. “And you can take in the drag show.” Holding up two fingers, I continue. “Two warnings, though. One, only use the bathroom if you are in dire straits. It’s not pretty in there, and there may or may not be some extracurricular activities taking place. Two, if you go to the drag show, be careful…you’re awfully pretty and they will eat you right up!” I can’t help it. I make myself giggle at the thought of those drag queens setting their eyes on Liam.
“You trying to get rid of me, Cami? Are you embarrassed to introduce me to your friends?”
“Nope, I just don’t want you to get bored. Come on, I see my friends right over there.”
I motion in the direction of Gabe and turn on my heels to head toward the birthday boy. I know that Liam follows me because when Gabe and his friends see him behind me, their mouths drop open, and their eyes practically bulge out of their heads.
Yep, they’ve seen him.
I remember the first time I saw him…I had a similar reaction. Liam is a sight, and even though I was able to keep it together, unlike these fools I call friends, I do recall feeling all funny inside the first time my eyes landed on him. I’ll never forget it.
Jonathan had planned a surprise proposal to Emily in San Clemente, and I was meeting him at the location for the wedding he was also surprising her with. It was a sunny Southern California day, and when Jonathan and all of the guys came walking onto the beach that day, it was like a scene straight out of a movie. These boys were hot, even if they were like family—I wasn’t blind. Jonathan, Mick, and Devon are crazy good looking, but Liam…Liam was next level.
He was dressed simply in a pair of board shorts, a t-shirt, and flip flops. His tattoos were on full display, and all they did was add to the magnetism that already seemed to pour off of him. His tattoos aren’t your typical tattoos; you can tell they mean something. On his right arm, he has a sleeve of Polynesian artwork that goes from his shoulder to the middle of his forearm, and his left leg has similar art that goes from just below his knee down to his ankle. His tattoos are intricate, meaningful, and sexy as hell. Liam Fanua was living, breathing art the first time I saw him walking on that beach four years ago. No doubt about it.
He still is.
If only he wasn’t such a slut as well.
I’ll never forget watching him in action over those three days. Everywhere he went, there were girls crawling all over him. I get that this happens with men that look like him and have the personality that he does. Hell, I got plenty of attention on that trip too. The difference is, I didn’t take any of those people home.
If I remember correctly, Liam met a couple girls that first night at Dukes, but only one of them won the grand prize. A night with him. The next night after the wedding, we all went out for drinks, and I watched him walk out of Ole’s Tavern with a lovely little blonde on his arm.
The man has no shame, and in the short time that I spent with him in California, I knew he was that guy. A player. The kind of guy that would say, Don’t hate the player, hate the game, or something like that. He’s the kind of guy that is great to look at and the best friend you’ll ever have, if he’s your friend, but he is not the kind of guy a girl should fall for.
“Cami, good to see you, girl,” Gabe says as he stands and pulls me in for a hug. Releasing me, he looks me in the eyes and silently asks, Who is the stud behind you, and is he my birthday present? “And who do we have here?”
Before I get a chance to answer, Liam has his hand out. “Liam Fanua, nice to meet you.”
“Liam Fanua, I’m Gabe Sherman, and it is most certainly, nice to meet you.”
Gabe holds on to their handshake just a little too long and is not hiding the fact that he finds the tall, dark, and handsome stud standing in front of him very attractive.
“Oh, stop it!” I slap Gabe on the arm and continue the introductions. “Liam, this is the birthday boy, Gabe. This handsome man is Joel, his husband,” I say as I give Joel a kiss on the cheek. “Down at the end of the table is Rebecca, Gabe’s sister, and her best friend, Missy.” Liam waves down to the girls, and I can see them blush even in the low lighting of the club.
Gabe introduces us to his friends, Chance, Tyler, Miguel, and Thomas, and then Liam heads to the bar to get us some beers. As soon as he walks away, the third degree begins.
“Miss Cameron, where have you been hiding that hunk of a man? He looks like Jason Mamoa and The Rock hooked up one night and nine months later a super stud was born.”
“I haven’t been hiding him anywhere. You remember my friend Emily and her husband, Jonathan? Well, Liam grew up with Jonathan, and they’re like family. Liam just moved here from Georgia to open a new branch of his family’s construction company. I invited him to come with me tonight because he hasn’t really gotten to know too many people in town yet.”
“Well, if he’s new to town, I think it’s our obligation to keep him company. What do you think, baby?” Gabe asks sweetly of Joel.
“Babe, I think you need to leave that poor boy alone and keep your hands to yourself.”
“Aw, come on, it’s my birthday. Pretty please.” He pouts and bats his eyelashes at Joel.
Liam returns to the table and interrupts Gabe’s pleading. Thank goodness. He hands me my beer and pulls up two stools from a nearby table.
A minute or so goes by, and he hasn’t said anything. I have never known him to not have something to say, and I’m starting to think maybe bringing him here wasn’t such a great idea.
Yelling over the loud music the DJ is currently playing to an empty dance floor, Gabe leans forward with his chin in his hand and dreamily asks, “So, Liam. Cami says you work in construction.”
&nb
sp; “I do,” Liam yells back but doesn’t elaborate.
“Well, it’s a small world because like our girl here, I work in real estate. So, I guess you could say that we are all connected in some way or another.”
“Nice! It certainly doesn’t hurt to know people in real estate in my line of work. Do you work commercial or residential?”
And just like that…Liam scoots his stool closer to Gabe so they don’t have to yell quite as much and they start chatting like long-lost friends.
Turning my attention to Rebecca and Missy and Gabe’s other friends, I let the boys do their thing. Every now and then, I see them high-five or burst out in a fit of laughter, and it seems as though they’ve made some kind of love connection.
While Gabe and Liam continue their little love fest, the rest of us decide to hit the dance floor. It’s later, and the club is starting to fill up. It may not be fancy, and the dance floor isn’t that big, but with the lights, the music, and this great group of people out on the floor with me…I can’t help but let loose.
The one thing about a gay bar is that you don’t have to really worry about getting groped or being asked for your number. There will be some innocent bumping and grinding, and you better look your best, but it’s nice to have a night out without pressure or wondering if every guy you dance with has potential for more.
After shaking our asses for a couple of songs, Gabe and Liam finally get up from their stools and get their swagger on as they mosey their way to the dance floor.
It’s not like I was watching them or wondering if Liam was watching me. No, that would be ridiculous. I don’t have those feelings for Liam. Yes, he may be a living, breathing fantasy come to life, and he’s made me feel a little something since the first time I saw him on that beach in San Clemente…but he’s Liam. He is not the guy for me.
When the guys step onto the dance floor, the crowd seems to part for my big friend. He’s so big he would seem rude if he were to push his way through like the rest of us, but he doesn’t have to since everyone moves for him.
