Brendon giggled and linked their arms.
They enjoyed an excellent lunch of quiche, sweet breads, and these incredible sausage-pastry things that Brendon could have eaten twelve of. And he might have too, had Matt not insisted they sample a variety.
“Trying to fatten me up?” Brendon joked.
Matt snorted. “No, I’ll do that later, after I trap you in my gingerbread house.”
“You wouldn’t have to try very hard. I’d go just about anywhere with you right now.”
Matt perked up. “Which means it’s the perfect time for page three of your book.”
Brendon swallowed the last bite of a succulent mushroom quiche he’d inhaled and flipped to page three.
Are you having a good time?
“Absolutely,” Brendon answered. “This date is giving our first one some serious competition.”
“I’m thrilled.” Matt reached across the little table they’d claimed and brushed a thumb over his hand. “Go to page four, if you’re ready.”
Brendon was, no question.
Where would you like to go next?
The options included calling it a day—no chance he was going to pick that—the aquarium, the movies, or the museum.
“I pick the museum.” Brendon closed the book and tucked it under his arm. “It’ll give me a chance to see that exhibit you told me about. Wonderful as your article was, I’m sure the real thing is even better.”
“Right.” Matt’s expression was strained. “Because when we talked about it before, you were only pretending you’d seen it. I didn’t think of that.”
Brendon’s heart fluttered, not in a good way. “Are you upset?”
“I shouldn’t be, right? You already confessed to your crime. It’s not your fault I didn’t think back over everything you said to me and analyze whether it was true or not.”
Despite his words, his tone suggested he very much thought it was Brendon’s fault. Brendon was beginning to suspect Matt wasn’t as over it as he’d claimed to be. I asked for proof that things weren’t perfect, and I am certainly getting it.
“Well, I would love to see it,” Brendon said quickly, hoping to diffuse the situation. “Then we can have a genuine discussion about it.”
“That sounds great. Honestly, I was hoping you’d pick the museum.” Matt stood up and held out his hand.
Brendon took it. “Lead the way.”
It was a windy twenty-minute walk to the museum, but Brendon didn’t mind at all. Hand in hand with Matt, he felt like a real couple strolling down the street. The weirdness between them dissipated with the wind, and as they walked, Matt asked him to go to more pages in his book. They contained questions for both of them to answer about their lives, like what their families were like—Matt was one of three brothers raised by a single dad; Brendon was an only child—and their plans for the future. There was one question in particular that took Brendon completely by surprise.
Do you see yourself getting married and having children some day?
As soon as Brendon read it, heat crept up his neck. He stammered through the beginning of three different sentences while Matt laughed uproariously.
Brendon grumbled. “It’s not funny.”
“Yes, it is.” Matt collected himself. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
“No, I do. I was just surprised, is all. I’ve only had a couple of serious relationships, but I thought the marriage-and-kids conversation was supposed to happen after you’ve been dating for a while.”
“I like to know what I’m in for. Besides, with how well our dates have been going, who knows what the future holds.” He waggled his eyebrows, and Brendon giggled.
“In that case, I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought about marriage, if only for the chance to throw a big party with all my friends.”
“And get all dolled up?” Matt looked him over. “Maybe wear a fancy suit? Unless you’d prefer a dress.”
“I like that you’re open-minded, but nah, you had it the first time with the fancy suit guess. You know me too well. I’ll have to play my cards a little closer to the chest from now on.”
“Don’t.” Matt gave his fingers a squeeze. “I wanna know everything about you.”
Brendon was grateful for Matt’s hand holding his, because without it, he might have floated up into the sky.
The museum was a small but stately building with thick white pillars out front and beautiful stained glass windows. There were four “wings” inside that were divided by time period. They managed to stroll through all four in two hours, thanks in part to a lack of crowds.
Matt’s favorite was the Renaissance wing. He could expound about Botticelli’s use of line, as Brendon discovered. Brendon, on the other hand, preferred the Modern Art section. They got into a good-natured squabble about what constituted “art” while standing in front of a statue that look like someone had taken a blowtorch to a child’s bicycle.
And, of course, they spent a good deal of time in the Colonial section. Brendon finally got to find out what the “controversial” side exhibit was.
“There was a famous seamstress who happened to be a man,” Matt explained. “I guess he would have been called a seamster? I dunno, but he was also a confirmed bachelor, which historically speaking tends to mean one thing.”
“He was gay,” Brendon supplied.
“That’s the theory. Of course, a bunch of conservatives got pissed off about it and insisted the man could love sewing without being gay. Which is true, but straight historians are famous for erasing LGBT people from the texts. I read about it all the time. Academic papers will say, ‘In this passage the pharaoh passionately declares his carnal love for another man, which obviously means they’re just bros.’”
Brendon laughed so hard he choked. “And to think, people say history is boring.”
“Come on, let’s check out the rest of the exhibit.”
Brendon led the tour through the Colonial fashion exhibit, commenting on the displays and detailing the process they went through to turn wool into thread into clothing. Of course, he was only reiterating everything Matt had said in his article, but Matt was so impressed by how much he remembered, he kissed him right in the middle of the floor. A group of teenagers hooted at them, and Brendon thought he might split his lips from smiling so hard.
When Matt pulled away, however, he said something that confused Brendon. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I think we can call this one early.”
Brendon blinked. “Huh? You mean like call it a night?”
“No, definitely not. I’m having a great time. I meant the test. The date isn’t over yet, but I think it’s safe to say you passed.”
Brendon pursed his lips. “I . . . passed.”
“Yeah.” Matt wasn’t even looking at him. He was eyeing a nearby display, as if it were more interesting than what he was saying. “I know I kept saying this date was a test run for ‘us,’ but we both knew I was giving you another chance. And I’m glad I did. I’ve had so much fun.”
Brendon wanted to be delighted by this news, but it wasn’t sitting well with him. It sounded so . . . pompous. As if Matt expected a thank-you for deigning to go out with him again. Brendon was certainly grateful that Matt hadn’t given up on him, but Matt didn’t need to rub his face in it.
Matt must’ve sensed something was wrong, because he looked back. “You okay?”
Brendon debated what he should say. He’d fucked up, and he’d admitted it. Matt had told him this date was a trial run. But it still rubbed him the wrong way that Matt had called this a test. Then again, hadn’t Brendon been testing Matt this whole time? Trying to find flaws in him so he could prove to himself he wasn’t holding on to some idealized version of Matt? Some perfect man from a magazine quiz?
“Brendon?” Matt raised a brow. “Is something wrong?”
This seems like a good time for me to put Matt’s honesty policy to the test. Nothing like a frank conversation to take all
the guesswork out of dating.
“Kind of, yeah,” Brendon began. “I know you said you weren’t in a place yet where you could forgive me for what I did, but I can’t help noticing how . . . bitter you still seem about it.”
Matt blinked. “Do I?”
“Yeah, you’ve brought it up like three times now. I get that I made a mistake, but I thought this date was supposed to be a second shot. Instead, it seems like a second chance for you to shove what I did in my face.”
Matt frowned. “If I did that, it was unintentional. I can’t say I blame myself, though. Over the course of the date, I’ve realized all sorts of little nuances to the lie you told me, like the fact that you pretended to know about this museum exhibit. I could have gotten angry all over again, but I didn’t.”
Now Brendon was starting to get pissed off. “So what, you think you should get a gold star for not freaking out again over something I already admitted to?”
“No, but I think I deserve some credit. This whole time, I’ve been perfectly honest about how I’ve felt and what I’m going to need in order to move on. You can’t say the same.”
“Right. So, you’re the innocent one in all of this, and I’m just the guy who betrayed you and now has to grovel for forgiveness.”
Matt’s eyes flashed. “Your words. Not mine.”
“Look, I’m sorry that your ex fucked up, but I’m not him. I made one mistake, and no matter how many new ‘nuances’ you discover about what I did, I still only lied to you once. That does not make me a liar.”
Matt didn’t respond, but he didn’t need to. In his face, Brendon could see the words clear as day. Doesn’t it?
That did it. Brendon wasn’t an easy person to upset, but he was not going to stand here and be judged by someone he barely knew. He whirled around. “Let me save you the effort of finding it in your heart to forgive me. I’m leaving.”
He made it three steps before Matt grabbed his arm. “Wait. Are you serious?”
“Of course I am!” Brendon whipped back around. As he went, he caught sight of several people staring at them. He lowered his voice. “You just called me a liar, more or less, and if I remember correctly, you hate liars. Clearly, there’s no reason for us to continue our date.”
Even as he said it, his heart sank. He didn’t want for this to be over. Mad as he was, he still liked Matt, even if he was a holier-than-thou dick. But there was no way he was going to take this kind of abuse. He had enough shit in his life without it coming from a new avenue.
“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” Matt squeezed his arm. “I didn’t realize how upset you were.”
To Brendon’s horror, his eyes stung with tears. Fuck. Not even because he was upset; he cried when he was frustrated, and it was the worst. “How could you not realize?”
“Babe, you’re so hard to read. I didn’t realize until your voice started to rise.”
“Please don’t call me babe. I’m not in the mood for pet names. And let go of my arm.”
Matt obeyed instantly. “Can we talk? Please?”
If Matt had told him instead of asking, Brendon would have refused. As it was, he allowed Matt to lead the way out of the museum. It wasn’t until they were outside that Brendon realized the sun had started to set. They’d spent the whole day together, and right up until the end, it had been one of the happiest of his life.
Matt kept walking until they were out of earshot of the museum entrance and then stopped next to a streetlight. “I’m sorry you’re upset.”
Brendon stared down at his shoes to avoid seeing Matt’s face. If he looked at him, he wouldn’t be able to say what he needed to. “You should be sorry for what you did, not for how I reacted.”
Soft fingers brushed Brendon’s jaw, and despite himself, he glanced up. To his surprise, Matt’s expression was contrite. “You’re right. I fucked up. I shouldn’t have said what I did in the museum, or any of the other snide comments I’ve been making.”
“Are you just saying what I want to hear?”
“No, I mean it. I didn’t realize I was doing it before, but in hindsight, I’m surprised it took you this long to tell me to piss off. I . . . If you’re willing to hear me out, I’m going to confess something to you that I’ve never said out loud before.”
Brendon couldn’t help but be intrigued. “Go ahead.”
“Sometimes I think I’m turning into the thing I hate most.”
“What do you mean?”
Matt made an exasperated sound. “It’s hard to explain. Remember when I told you my office is full of gossip and fake people? And I have to participate in that to some extent?”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“Well, I think they’re rubbing off on me. I spend all day listening to everyone talking shit about everyone else, and it’s hard to get out of that judgmental frame of mind. I act like I’m above it because I’m judging them for judging others, but that’s not any better, is it? Especially since it led to me copping such an epic attitude with you just because you made one mistake. It’s not right. If I can’t move on, I need to own to it and stop stringing you along.”
Brendon sucked in a breath. “Is that what you’re going to do?”
“No, I’m going to pull my giant foot out of my exceptionally large mouth and apologize. I’m sorry. Can you forgive me?”
Brendon’s ire had begun to ebb, but he hesitated. “There’s something else I need to tell you.”
Matt’s expression was instantly wary. “What?”
“Ever since you forgave me, I’ve been worried that I haven’t been seeing you as you are. Like, ever since I took that quiz you wrote, I’ve been holding on to this idealized version of you. I kept thinking everything you said and did was perfect, and I knew that couldn’t be the case. So, throughout the date, I think I’ve been hyperfocused on your flaws, which is just as bad as convincing myself you’re perfect.”
“I could have told you from the start I’m not perfect.”
“Yeah, well, I guess I wanted to find out for myself. And I certainly have. You’re stubborn and hot-tempered and you’re far too critical of other people’s hobbies and habits.”
Matt made a sour face. “Thank you.”
“But,” Brendon continued, “I also think you’re smart and considerate and almost hopelessly romantic. So, in short, I guess what I’m saying is, I think you’re a complicated person with both good and bad qualities. And I hope you think of me the same way.”
“Oh yeah. I think you’re unambitious and you throw yourself headfirst into things without stopping to think of the consequences.”
Brendon winced and gazed down at his shoes. “And despite all that, you still like me?”
“Brendon.” Matt took his face gently in both hands and brought it up until their eyes met. “I liked you when I first looked at you because you were beautiful. I liked you when I first spoke to you because you were sweet. And I really like you now because you’re fascinating, and smart, and funny, and you didn’t hesitate to call me on my shit.”
Brendon leaned into his touch. “You mean that?”
“Absolutely. I’m so sorry for what I said in the museum. Will you forgive me?”
“Well . . .” Brendon flashed a big smile. “Maybe just this once.”
Matt kissed him, hard but honeyed. Brendon kissed back with heat. He was glad they were more or less out of sight of the museum. He’d hate to make the paintings blush.
Far too soon, Matt pulled away with a shiver. “I think you should go to the next page in your book before I decide to skip right to the end.”
“What’s at the end?”
Matt stepped closer to him and brought his lips to Brendon’s ear. “You’ll have to wait and see. Go to page fifteen.”
Curiosity burned in Brendon. He was tempted to flip to the last page, but after all the time and energy Matt had put into this book, that didn’t seem right. He turned to the page Matt had specified and held it up to the streetlamp so he could read.
; What would you like to do now?
Once again, go home was an option. Brendon skipped right over that and read the other choices, which included a movie, drinks, and dinner.
Right on cue, his stomach growled. “Food, please.”
“Thank God. I’m starving.” Matt took him on a lovely sunset stroll to a French restaurant six blocks up. It was a tiny hole-in-the-wall no bigger than Brendon’s apartment, with a grand total of twelve gingham-covered tables and a single waiter who acted like he couldn’t care less if they were there or not. Which was probably why they were the only people there.
Brendon loved it. It was definitely not perfect.
Once seated, they happily ruined their dinners by stuffing themselves with a cheese plate they ordered as an appetizer. They split the duck confit, and through a combination of gentle needling and big, brown puppy-dog eyes, Matt talked Brendon into trying escargot. He had to drench it in butter before Brendon would let it anywhere near his mouth, but he managed it. In retrospect, it wasn’t half-bad.
“You’re not adventurous when it comes to food, are you?” Matt tossed a snail into his mouth and chewed without flinching.
Brendon pursed his lips and made a mental note to give Matt some gum before he kissed him again. “I haven’t had a chance to find out. Delicacies tend to be expensive, and since I’m still in school, I’m trying to live leanly. Keeps me from having to take out loans. Maybe one day when I’m a world-famous stylist, I’ll try everything there is. Snips and snails and puppy-dog tails.”
“Is that what you want to be when you grow up? A stylist?”
Brendon shrugged. “It’s what I want right now, but who knows how long that will last. I don’t have the best track record for finishing what I start.”
“Well, I know something you can finish right now.” Matt reached across the table and twined their fingers. “There’s one final page in your book. If you’re finished eating, I think you should look at it.”
Matt’s expression was a mesh of excitement and nervousness. Brendon suspected the last page had something special on it.
He’d set his book on the table when they’d first sat down, and now, just to be a tease, he leafed through it a page at a time.
All of the Above Page 11
