Friday Night Jamie

by Bren Christopher

  After another dance and another drink, which I seemed incapable of saying no to, he and Lydia headed for the bathrooms. Leaning against the bar, I rested my head on my arms and closed my eyes, content to float in my small sea of tranquility in the middle of the noisy, crowded club.

  “Jamie,” Matt said quietly in my ear. He put his hand on my shoulder and drew me up. “Jamie? Are you okay? Too much to drink?”

  I avoided looking at him, tried to pull away, feeling a little dizzy. “I’m fine. What are you doing here, anyway?”

  “Artie was a bit worried about you, said you weren’t acting like yourself.”

  My head snapped around, and I glared at him. “He called you? Are you saying he called you to come over here?” I was outraged, both at him and at Art.

  It didn’t last long. More than anything else, I realized I was just embarrassed for him to see the situation I had gotten myself into. “I’m sorry. He shouldn’t have bothered you. I’m fine. You don’t have to stay with me.”

  He held my arm and pulled me closer. Frowning, he slipped his hand under my chin and held my head still. He stared into my eyes for a long, quiet moment. I thought about pulling away, but then I got distracted as I thought about how those lips had felt on mine and the taste of that smooth skin… I blinked and came back to myself when he said in a low voice, “I can hardly see that lovely green any more, your pupils are so big. Do you want to tell me what’s going on? “

  He let go of my chin, and I moved my head away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve had a lot to drink. That’s all.”

  His hand tightened on my arm. “Damn it. What did you take?”

  Even through my mellow state, I reacted, trying to jerk my arm away. “It’s not your problem, okay?”

  He took a deep breath, then said in a calm voice, “Baby, can we go outside, where it’s quieter? Just for a minute?” His other hand came up and stroked my forehead, moving down to trail a finger over my cheek, and I felt the tension leave my body. I let him lead me outside, around a quiet corner, and into the alley. We stayed by the door under the light. The thumping of the bass carried right through into the alley, and I swayed in time.

  “Hey.” I grinned. “Look where we are.” I slipped my arms around his waist. “Mmm… You feel so good. You’re always so warm, and you are so tight without being all bulky.”

  His arms tightened around me. He pressed his face against my hair. “I know you drink a lot when you go out on the weekends, but I never heard that you did drugs.”

  “What the hell do you know? Anyway, maybe I am just drunk.”

  “I worked narcotics for two years after I made detective. I know what high looks like.”

  I pulled back and stared at him. “Really? You were a cop? What happened?” I realized then that Art must have already known that about Matt, and that was why he’d called him.

  “I’ll tell you the story sometime, but I don’t think you’re in a state to listen to it right now.”

  “Okay.” I leaned my head against his shoulder and ran my hands up and down his back. He shivered a little, and I brushed my lips up his neck and across his cheek to give him a long, deep kiss. He sighed into my mouth and said, “God, you would test a saint. You need to sleep this off.”

  My hands moved down to cup his butt, massaging. I murmured into his ear, “Take me home, Matthew. That’s what you’ve been wanting, isn’t it? Take me home. I want to fuck this muscley ass of yours.” I squeezed his butt cheeks and pushed against him, and he groaned but didn’t answer. “Don’t you want me to?”

  “Yes,” he finally said. “God, yes! I want you every way there is to have you, every possible position. Just tell me what you took, and then I’ll take you home.”

  I pulled back to look earnestly into his lovely brown eyes, the dark lashes shadowing that smooth skin with its hint of an olive undertone. “You’re a beautiful man, you know that?”

  “Thank you, dear,” he said patiently. “Now tell me what you took.”

  A sudden, inexplicable wave of tiredness swept over me. I rested my head against his shoulder. “I don’t know. I would tell you if I did, I promise, but I just don’t know.”

  He froze. “What do you mean, you don’t know? How can you not know? Unless… Jamie, did…did somebody give you something without you knowing?” He took my arms and held me away from him so he could see my face. “Was it Keith? Answer me!” His grip tightened, and I winced. His hands immediately loosened, but he didn’t let go.

  I looked at him. “You were right, you know.” My mind wandered a bit. “I don’t touch anything stronger than alcohol, ever. Not after seeing what my dad…” I stopped. What was the question? “I think…Keith must have put it in my drink when we were at his place, right before we went out.”

  “Christ. This is the guy you wanted to go out with so bad?”

  “I know, I know.” I buried my face in his neck for a long moment, then whispered in his ear, “But it’s hard to give up on a dream, you know? It’s just so hard.”

  “Oh, baby…” He wrapped his warm, strong arms around me, and my eyes closed as I relaxed against him.

  After a moment, he said, “Okay, we need to get you some water. You need to drink a lot to get this flushed out of your system. Then we’ll get you somewhere you can lie down. But first I need to talk to Keith. I can’t leave you alone, so you’re going to have to come with me.”

  “I don’t want to see him. Anyway, my head is starting to clear already. Can’t we just go?”

  “Sorry, I need to know what he gave you. I can make a guess, but I need to be sure, and I need to know if he mixed it with anything else.”

  He entwined his fingers with mine, and we headed back inside. He looked around. “Where do you think he is?”

  I answered reluctantly, “Maybe in the bathroom, doing lines with Lydia.”

  I knew how he would react to that. He sounded disgusted. “Damn, just great. Now I have to deal with a cokehead. I should call the cops on him. I still have friends on the force.”

  “Please, don’t. He’s not a violent person, and I don’t want any trouble. Let’s just make this quick and go.”

  We found him and Lydia in the hallway outside the bathrooms. Keith looked at Matt holding my hand and said, “Where have you been, Jamie? We’ve been looking for you. Maybe you’ve been out back with this guy?”

  Matt said, “All I want to know is what you gave him and how much.”

  “How is that any of your business? Who the hell do you think you are? His keeper?”

  Matt started to say something, and I was afraid the situation would escalate. “Keith, just tell him, will you? We don’t want any trouble.”

  “We? What do you mean, we? Damn, you really do get around, don’t you?”

  Well, I had tried. I let go of Matt’s hand and stepped back out of the way.

  Matt strode forward, closer to Keith. He moved like the wolf he had reminded me of the very first night we danced. Relieved, I saw that was all it took.

  Keith backed off. “Shit, man, it was just a little E, not even a whole tab since I didn’t know how he’d react. He liked it too. We were having a damn good time until you showed up, weren’t we, Jamie? Come on, babe. We’re ready to go back to my place and party some more. Come with us.” He held out his hand. I looked at him like he was crazy. He shrugged. “Your loss. Come on, Lydia.”

  They headed out, and Matt let them go. He took my hand again, and we went out to his car. He stopped at an old beat-up sedan and opened the door for me. I looked it up and down and raised my eyebrows at him. “This is your car?”

  He answered mildly, “Well, it may not be much to look at, but it gets me from point A to point B.”

  “Huh,” I said. “Keith has a really cute little red convertible, you know.” I looked down my nose in a ridiculously exaggerated expression of disdain. “And tonight he brought me here in a limo.”

  He glared at me, and I bit my lip as I struggled to keep
from smiling. After a moment he started laughing. “You are some piece of work. Just get in the damn car.”

  After I climbed in, he rested his hand on my leg. “I’m glad to see you’re feeling better anyway.”

  “I’m feeling worse, actually. A lot worse.” I leaned my pounding head against the window and drifted off.

  Chapter Six

  I woke up the next morning in a strange bed, with no recollection of how I’d gotten there. Contrary to popular opinion, that didn’t really happen very often. Staring up at the unfamiliar ceiling, I took an inventory. One pounding head, but no scratches, no bites, and no soreness in my nether regions. I frowned. A throbbing headache and nothing to show for it. Not a very successful night. But then, why was I in a strange bed? I rolled over so I could look at the man breathing quietly next to me. Matt. Unexpected warmth flooded through me.

  A bottle of pain reliever and a glass of water sat on the bedside table. I took a couple of pills and then found the bathroom.

  As I started to wash up, I noticed a toothbrush in an unopened package laid out on the counter by the sink. I stared at it and wondered how long it had been there. Had Matt just put it out last night? Or had it sat there, waiting for me, for weeks? The thought made a little shiver run down my spine.

  I took a shower and used the toothbrush, then went to find something to wear. I couldn’t stand the thought of putting on last night’s clothes. The smell of alcohol, sweat, and cigarettes from the club brought back most of the memories, and I stood there, clutching my shirt and feeling the slow build of anger toward Keith that I couldn’t feel last night.

  I didn’t know what to do about that anger. I had chosen to go out with Keith. In my need for him to be what I wanted him to be, I’d been blind to what he really was, deaf to those who had tried to warn me about him. That by no means justified what he had done, but other than yelling at him about it the next time I saw him, I didn’t know what else I could do. I certainly wasn’t willing to disrupt my already messed-up life with any kind of criminal charges.

  I found a stack of clean sweatpants and T-shirts in the dresser drawers. Matt was wearing the same thing in bed, and I thought this was probably all he ever wore around the apartment. I picked out some blue sweats and a white T-shirt that said Find your inner warrior with Wise Warrior dojo in a black and green logo. I sighed, trying to let go of the anger and the frustration. My inner warrior seemed to be missing, or I’d go kick Keith’s ass right now.

  In the kitchen, I found the makings for coffee and got a pot going. Then I wandered around. The apartment was small but comfortable: the furniture slightly worn, a hand-knitted throw tossed over a chair, a pile of books on the floor by the couch. One corner had been cleared to make just enough room for a couple of exercise mats and a weight set. I pictured Matt in his gi—maybe just the bottoms, yeah, no top—performing his kata in the morning light, sweat running down that firm chest… I blinked and came back to myself with a smile.

  A couple of colorful landscapes hung on the walls, but most of the pictures were family photos. One showed an older couple who was probably his parents. The woman had the same warm brown eyes as her son. Another photo showed a younger Matt with his arm around a girl who looked so much like him that she had to be his sister. They were both smiling.

  I moved on to a group shot, a police academy graduation photo. Matt with short hair and a uniform, standing toward the end of the front row. He looked proud, and I wondered why he was no longer a cop. But I knew he would tell me the story, sooner or later. In another group shot, Matt stood in a karate gi, black belt around his waist, surrounded by others in the same uniform but with various colors to their belts.

  I paused by the little desk in the corner and flipped through the news magazines piled there. I found his last name on the address labels. Dawson. Matthew Dawson. I also spotted a date of birth among his papers; he would turn thirty in a couple of months, two years older than me.

  A familiar printout caught my eye, the same one that I went to the lab and got every six months. The one that proved you had tested negative for HIV. I wondered if he had left this out for me to find too, like the aspirin and the toothbrush.

  Moving to the bedroom door, I saw that he was awake, lying on his side with his head propped up on his hand. I got the impression he had been awake for a while, listening to me walk around and giving me time to explore and maybe become a little comfortable with his place, his things.

  I sat on the edge of the bed. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” he answered.

  “Coffee’s ready.”

  “Great, I could use some. But I want to jump in the shower first.”

  Back in the kitchen, I found the cups and took out two, leaving his on the counter and then pouring myself a cup. I didn’t know if Matt used milk and sugar, but I didn’t find any in his refrigerator. There wasn’t much of anything in his refrigerator or in the cabinets.

  I sat at the little kitchen table, drinking coffee and waiting. He came into the kitchen, poured his own coffee, and sat down across from me. He wore another set of sweats and a T-shirt, dark hair still damp. I wanted to reach out and brush it back from his eyes, but I didn’t.

  He asked, “How are you feeling?”

  “Better. The aspirin helped, thanks.”

  There was silence for a long moment, until finally he started to say, “Jamie…” but I interrupted him.

  “Don’t, okay? I know I see what I want to see, sometimes, but I’m not a complete idiot. I don’t need you to tell me not to go out with him again.”

  He looked relieved. “Okay then.”

  I finished my coffee and stood up, feeling restless. It was almost noon already. The day was passing by fast. I opened the refrigerator door again. Still nothing in there. “Aren’t you hungry? Why don’t you have any food in this place?”

  “I don’t cook much, not just for myself. If you’re hungry, why don’t we go somewhere?”

  “I don’t know.” I walked around the kitchen, feeling out of sorts. “It’s Saturday.”

  He looked puzzled. “Yes, it is.”

  “There are things I have to get done on Saturday.” I tried to explain, but I wasn’t doing a very good job.

  He still looked puzzled, and then suddenly his eyes lit up. “Ah. And what do you normally do on a Saturday?” Maybe he wasn’t a complete dummy. He was asking about my schedule. I felt better.

  “Mostly,” I said, “I recover from Friday night.” He smiled at that, and so did I. “But then I go grocery shopping and do a few things around the house. Sometimes I go for a walk. Today, I have to do laundry too, which I normally do on Sundays. But it’s the last weekend of the month, so Saturday has to be laundry day.”

  “And what is different about the last weekend of the month?”

  “I go visit my grandmother. She’s got Alzheimer’s, so she’s been in a home since my grandfather died a couple of years ago. I visit her on the last Sunday of the month. So anyway, I have things I need to get done today. But…”

  “But what?”

  I moved to stand close and tentatively touched his hair.

  He had a teasing smile on his face. “But what? What’s the problem?”

  I ran my fingers down his cheekbone, lightly brushing his lips. His eyes closed, and his arms slipped around my waist, pulling me close so he could press his face tightly against my stomach. I stroked his hair.

  “Maybe…” I suggested hesitantly. “Maybe I could make you breakfast? I can’t cook much either, but I can make breakfast. Only, we would have to go to the store first and then back to my place.”

  He still had his face pressed against my stomach. He didn’t seem to want to let go.

  “Matt? Unless you have something else you need to do today?”

  “No, nothing. I’d love to come with you.”

  “Really? It will be kind of boring.”

  “I live alone too. I know the kind of chores that have to be done.”

  I was qui
et for a moment. “You might find you don’t like everyday Jamie as much as Friday night Jamie.”

  He took my hand and kissed the palm. I felt the shiver all the way to my toes. “So far, I like him even better.”

  Then he grabbed me by the waist and pulled me onto his lap. I pressed my face against his neck, nuzzling skin still slightly damp from the shower and breathing in the clean scent of soap and, faintly underlying that, the unique, increasingly familiar, and somehow comforting smell of Matthew.

  A bit afraid of the answer, I mumbled my question against his shoulder. “I don’t understand you. I know I didn’t treat you very well the first night we met. How can you say you liked me at all?”

  He twisted his fingers gently through my hair. “It’s hard to explain. I just thought we might be good together.” He paused, as if searching for the right words. “I guess I felt that if I could get past that defensive, smart-ass attitude of yours, I would find someone smart and funny, someone who might have a few quirks, but was basically a good guy, and who—maybe this sounds dumb—might really need me.”

  “It doesn’t sound dumb. It turned out to be true, didn’t it?”

  He grinned, and then his voice deepened to a growl. “Or maybe I just wanted another piece of that sweet ass.” He grabbed my butt cheeks, squeezed hard with both hands, and then attacked my mouth with his, the deep kiss smothering my laughter at his fake macho impression.

  If we hadn’t been starving, I would have lost a couple more hours at Matt’s place. But we managed to head out for the store, taking his car. I had to wear his sweats, which were a little too big for me, but I decided not to care. It was Saturday, after all. I could wear whatever I wanted.

  After shopping, we parked in my building’s parking garage and rode the elevator up to my floor. Unlocking the door, I showed him in and started to put the groceries away in the kitchen while he looked around. His cop’s eye immediately spotted the fresh paint job and the too-clean locks on the front door.