by Lane Hayes
I might not be as effortlessly hunky as my erstwhile boss, but the truth was that I knew I was considered better than average-looking, and I made an effort to stay in shape. I swam in high school and had kept my swimmer’s physique: broad shoulders with a leaner build and slim waist. Generally, I was attracted to men who were physically bigger than me, and I definitely had a type… tall, dark, and handsome.
Justin wasn’t my type. He was shorter than me at probably six feet even and although he had dark hair and dark eyes, he was cute… not handsome. He flashed me an even bigger grin than he had when I first opened the door and all coherent thought left. He was pretty in his own way and had a killer smile. He unzipped his leather jacket and carefully removed it, laying it on the bench in my foyer. I heard his breath hitch as he inched toward me. He was nervous. That seemed to even out the playing field somehow. I stood still and let him make the first move.
I watched his Adam’s apple move in his throat as he unbuttoned the top buttons of his white shirt. He moved closer, completely invading my personal space. Then he looked up and set a tentative hand on my bare chest. His touch was gentle, but his fingers felt like hot coals. It had been so long since I’d been with a man like this. Suddenly tall, dark, and handsome didn’t matter. I was instantly energized and hungry for more. I had to touch him. I reached out and with a surprisingly steady hand, unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, letting it fall open to reveal his toned chest. The boy worked out, I noted with approval. He had a light pelt of hair on his chest and a sweet treasure trail that pointed south, dipping just below his low-slung black trousers.
Our eyes met, and the desire in his was easily read. I was sure mine was equally plain. It was a relief to find that my hands and mouth were now back in full control. I pulled him closer to me, wrapping my right hand around his neck as I gently kissed his parted lips. Justin groaned out loud and flung his arms around my waist as he opened his mouth under mine. We groped, squeezed, and clung to one another in our quest to get closer. I wanted that fantasy I’d conjured in the shower. I wanted anything and everything I could get. The need for oxygen stilled our frantic movement for a moment.
I could still change my mind, I thought. We were still at the front door. Sure, I’d look like a total ass, but it’s a boy’s prerogative to have a change of heart. Except my dick was literally poking through the towel, I was so hard. There was no way in hell I was changing my mind. I’d deal with regrets in the morning if they came.
MY ALARM rang at seven a.m. the next morning. The sun was peeking through the roman blinds in my darkened bedroom. I covered my eyes with my arm and allowed myself to bask in the luxury of waking after sunrise on a weekday for the first time in months. The shrill ring of the phone on my bedside table sent me lunging over to answer it. I needed to turn the sound down. It was obnoxious.
“’Lo?” My voice was groggy, and I stifled a yawn.
“So… tell me all about it! Is he still there? Who did who? Was he hot? I want to know exactly what he looked like… don’t leave out a thing!”
“Aaron. I haven’t had a cup of coffee yet, honey. I’m in no condition to speak, let alone divulge deep secrets.” I looked at my watch. Seven oh five. I loved my friend, but seriously… maybe he needed to get laid too.
“Ugh! Make a cup of your crappy coffee if you must and call me back ASAP. I have to leave for work in one hour, and I’m not going to wait all day to hear about your night. Did you hear me? Call me back! Chop-chop!”
I laughed but assured him I would do as he asked. I sat up in bed slowly and surveyed the mess in my room. My bed was a disaster. Pillows were strewn everywhere, and the sheets were crumpled in a heap where the mattress met the footboard. I stood and noted that my body was sore in all the right places. God, it felt so good. And the best part of all was that he was already gone. I didn’t have to wake up to the awkwardness of a strange bedmate, wondering whether or not I should offer him coffee, breakfast, or another round of sex. I smiled as I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror. Fuck, that was hot. Justin was exactly what I needed. Except for one minor detail… I couldn’t get Peter fucking Morgan’s face out of my head. I frowned as I turned on the shower. Why did he seem to ruin everything?
I called Aaron after I’d showered, shaved, and had poured my first cup of coffee, grimacing at the wicked taste. I said a quick prayer that Rebecca would have a superior cup of java waiting for me when I got to the office. Aaron picked up immediately. I knew he’d be waiting for me to call, and I couldn’t resist teasing him just a bit.
“Hi, honey, how did you sleep last night? Do you have a busy day on tap at work?”
“Ha-ha. Dish! Tell me all about him, Jaybird. I’m all about the details. Go!”
I laughed and checked the time. I had less than ten minutes before I needed to leave for the office. I gave Aaron a brief rundown. At the end of the day, there really wasn’t much to tell. It was sex. Good sex, yes… but not earth-shattering. I did share the one thing that I couldn’t seem to shake.
“One thing is kind of bugging me, though.”
“You used a condom, right?”
“Of course! Don’t be an idiot!”
“Okay, well what, then? You had safe sex with a consenting cute guy. End of story. You didn’t fall for him, did you? Will you see him again? You know, repeats get messy if you aren’t up-front about your expectations or lack thereof.”
I stared at the phone for a second. Geez, when did Aaron get to be so clued-in and wise about the world of one-night stands? Or maybe he was used to having low expectations.
“No, I didn’t fall for him. He’s not my type. Period. We just had sex.”
“Don’t tell me… he was strictly a bottom.” Aaron’s guess wasn’t too far off, but it wasn’t what I was thinking.
“No. Actually, it was his preference to bottom, but we both got what we needed. That isn’t it, though.”
“Spill it! I have to get moving!”
“Well… okay. He was on top of me, you know and… well….”
“Jay? I’m your best friend and I adore you, but spit it out, honey. We’re working on a time limit here. This isn’t a good time to decide you’re a little shy.”
“Fuck off. Okay, fine. He was on top and just about to come, and I was almost there too, so I looked up to say something to him, like….”
“Like? ‘That’s it, baby, do me harder’?” Aaron supplied with a slight chuckle.
“Who knows? But what freaked me out was… get this… I saw my boss’s face. Kid you not. It was like I was fantasizing about having hot, steamy sex with the one man I truly hate more than any other at the moment. What the hell? What do you think it means?”
“Whoa. That is an odd one.”
“I know. Whatever. We have one last meeting this morning and I will hopefully be free of him for a while. Forever would be great, but I’ll take what I can get.”
“Good luck. Dinner later? I’ll make you something delish.”
I smiled into the phone and agreed. The thought of being home at a reasonable hour was enough to make going to work and dealing with Peter Morgan one more time palatable. Plus, Aaron really was a great cook.
THE MEETING was sweet and short. Thank God. Unfortunately, that was because after congratulating our team on a job well-done, Peter announced that there would be a celebratory cocktail party that Friday evening held in our honor. We were encouraged to bring a significant other if we wished to do so. The party was being held in the banquet room of a very posh hotel, which meant it was a suit-and-tie affair. Ugh. Would the torture never end? Usually, I love a party, any party. A quiet affair with a few friends or a tuxedo ballroom soiree. It didn’t matter to me. But I didn’t want to prolong this assignment. And that’s what this felt like. Prolonged torture.
LATER THAT evening, I opened my front door and immediately felt Aaron’s presence. Techno music was playing at dance-club volume, and delicious smells were wafting from the general vicinity of the kitchen. I smil
ed as I set my briefcase on the bench in the foyer and tugged at the sleeves of my suit jacket. There was no point calling out a greeting because he certainly wouldn’t hear me over the speakers. I found him swinging his hips in time with the beat as he chopped vegetables at my kitchen island. The room was alight with soft, late-afternoon sunshine beaming through the bank of windows above the breakfast nook. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been home before sunset. I’m sure I had a stupid grin on my face as I drank in the warm atmosphere.
Aaron pivoted to the music and started when he spotted me standing near the doorway.
“Hi, honey, I’m home,” I shouted above the din. Aaron adjusted the sound, dramatically placing his right hand over his heart.
“Oh my! Warn a guy, would you? You scared the crap out of me!”
“Sorry.” I let out a heavy sigh as I made my way toward the wine refrigerator. “I wish I were in love with you, Aar. This would be the perfect scenario to come home to… a handsome boy shakin’ his ass while he makes me dinner.”
“Well you love me at least, don’t you?”
“Yep.” I handed him a glass of pinot and kissed his cheek.
“I love you too, but we’d be terrible together. And besides, what you really want is to be the guy dancing in his kitchen to his favorite tunes while he whips up a little something for his man. Am I right? You, my friend, don’t love the grind you’re currently in. The long hours, no social life, no sex—well, I guess we can’t say that anymore!”
“Ha-ha. Whatever. I admit last night was probably what I needed. But I don’t know, I feel a little cheap right now. I almost wish I hadn’t called him.”
Aaron’s eyes fixed me with a hard stare. He set the knife aside and picked up his wineglass, holding my gaze while he took a sip.
“What’s the matter, Jaybird? Why do you sound so unhappy?”
I hadn’t realized I sounded so forlorn, but he was right. I felt out of sorts. I didn’t know how to answer, so I shrugged my shoulders and took a seat at the island to watch my friend work. He paused before picking up the knife, but he returned to his chore of chopping vegetables, his longish dark hair covering his right eye as he bent his head in concentration.
“I’m fine. I’m just tired.” I told Aaron about the dreaded office cocktail party I would have to endure before I could finally put this project behind me. Aaron listened patiently. It was another thing I loved about him. I may have been four years older than him, but he was blessed with a wisdom beyond his years and was a terrific listener.
“Why do you have such a problem with him? I mean, I get that he was a little prickish, asking you to make silly changes to your reports, but have you considered that maybe he’s trying to talk to you on another level?”
I gave Aaron an openmouthed, questioning stare. And for good measure asked him what the fuck he was talking about.
“I’m just saying that maybe he has a little crush on you.” Aaron batted his eyes like a femme fatale, making us both giggle.
“You, my friend, are hysterical. No. I can assure you there is no crush involved. In fact, Mr. Morgan is straight….”
“That’s what they all say…,” Aaron mumbled out loud.
“Maybe, but he’s pretty damn masculine.”
“You know that means absolutely nothing, right? But do tell me more!”
“There is nothing to tell. He doesn’t like me and frankly, I don’t know what I’ve done. I spent the first month or so thinking it was me, but lately I’m thinking it’s something else… something personal.”
“Unless you’re keeping something from me, how would he know you personally?”
“He doesn’t. Aar, I think he’s one of those….” I let the statement hang in the air, knowing Aaron would know exactly what I meant. His sharp hazel eyes met mine in understanding and sympathy.
“That sucks. I hate those… assholes. Why must they always insist on muting the rainbow? I mean, isn’t it bad enough that you have to go to work dressed like that?”
“What’s wrong with the way I’m…? Oh hush. Look, I have no proof that he’s homophobic, but he’s definitely singled me out for the stupidest of causes over a two-and-a-half month period of hell. The guy has been a perfectionist tyrant to work for and the very idea of spending even one more night glad-handing and pretending this has been such a rewarding experience does not appeal!”
I closed my eyes for a brief moment. I was tired, and the buzz from yesterday’s successful project finish followed by my late evening rendezvous with Justin was wearing off fast. Aaron was right about one thing in particular. I didn’t love my job anymore. I yearned for a slower pace than my workload allowed. I loved being part of a process that created positive changes, especially when my client had an environmental interest. But I was a people person, and frankly, I hated the never-ending research and analysis I’d had to do for Peter Morgan. I wanted to have a more active role in front of the client. Maybe the problem was that Morgan had sensed my dissatisfaction somehow. I doubted it. In fact, I’d bet anything he was just a homophobic prick.
“Come with me Friday night,” I blurted out, my glass suspended in midair. What a perfect way to give Morgan the proverbial finger! Aaron loved a party as much as I did, and he had no reason not to glam it up either. He could wear all the eyeliner and lip gloss he wanted, squeeze into his tightest black leather pants and a beautifully tailored sexy shirt and really wow the lobbyists at my firm.
Aaron’s eyes lit up with amusement. He put a hand over his mouth and made a comical face.
“I’m in!”
We giggled like a couple of loons and planned our evening wear for Friday night. I hadn’t laughed that hard in far too long. It was good to be among the living again.
THE WEEK drifted by quickly and noticeably easier. I found myself looking forward to Friday night now that Aaron was coming with me. I couldn’t wait to see Peter Morgan’s face when he caught sight of Aaron in full-gay mode. I personally loved it, but I knew men like Peter generally had an issue with men who wore makeup, as though it were a challenge to their own masculinity. I wished I could be as free with the eye-shadow wand as my friend. This was a work function, so while Aaron could push the envelope with his attire and accoutrement, I trusted him to do so tastefully. I, on the other hand, would be expected to dress accordingly. I didn’t care so long as I was the first to see Morgan’s expression when I introduced my date.
However, fate had other plans.
Jay. You’re going to kill me. Call me, honey.
I stared at my cell phone, willing myself not to throw it. Aaron was famous for overbooking his social calendar. Ugh!
“What is it? Are you really bailin’ on me?” I turned on my southern drawl and let my voice convey that I hoped he was feeling mighty guilty for hanging me out to dry.
“I’m so sorry. I’m in a bind. I totally forgot I promised Maria I’d watch Tommy for her tonight. She and Brian have tickets to the ballet, and they’re going to dinner in the city. She just called to tell me what time she was dropping him off. I’m sorry, Jaybird! If it was anyone other than family, I’d make an excuse. But I can’t do that to Maria. She’s been totally looking forward to a night out.”
“Ugh! What about Tess or your mom?” I was whining and not proud of it, but I was disappointed. So much for my big plans.
“My parents are in Puerto Rico, and Tess is busy. I’m really sorry, sweetie. Forgive?”
“Yeah, of course. Don’t worry about it.”
I set the phone down carefully and took a deep breath. Oh well. There was always alcohol.
UNFORTUNATELY, I was a notoriously bad drunk. I knew this about myself. I knew I needed to eat before drinking a drop, and that I needed to drink copious amounts of water in between drinks. It was usually best if I stayed away from hard alcohol, but that was no fun, so I tried to be careful instead and aim for moderation. That night I couldn’t be bothered. I was bummed to be going alone. I’d be the only guy there without a date.
I called my good friend Katie to see if she’d stand in for Aaron, but she claimed her fairy godmother was looking out for her that night and she had a previous engagement with a straight man. A night of possibility with a hot hetero man won out, although she claimed she would have dumped him if it weren’t so last minute. A true fag hag… that’s our Katie.
I stepped into the swanky hotel where the party was in full swing on Friday evening and had two drinks on an empty stomach within the first half hour. Not attending wasn’t an option so I went for liquid comfort instead. I chatted with my coworkers and made sure to make the rounds, being the friendly guy they all knew me to be. I was busy flirting with one of the bartenders when I spotted Peter Morgan across the room. I swallowed hard, as I took in the perfection of that glorious body in a beautifully fitted suit. I was guessing Armani this time. Damn, he was good-looking! Too bad he was such a jerk. I wondered if his date was a gorgeous model. I was absurdly curious about who he’d bring to a work affair. Even though I didn’t want to see this guy’s mug after tonight if it could be helped, beautiful things always were a weakness of mine. I suddenly had to see him up close and see if I could report what designer gown his girlfriend was wearing.
Mel caught me staring and bumped my arm hard. I gave her a dirty look when some of my cosmo spilled over the rim of my martini glass.
“Don’t look at him. He’ll come over and make small talk or something equally mortifying,” she mused.
“No, he’ll bring a report outlined in red ink and issue strict instructions for me to rewrite line three of paragraph two by first thing in the mornin’.”
Mel looked at me with big eyes and busted up laughing. I joined in, realizing that my laughter was the product of too many cosmos and too little food. My voice sounded loud to my own ears. I needed to watch it or I wouldn’t have a job to worry about at all. I gathered whatever self-control I could muster and turned back toward my nemesis to get another good look, only to find him standing two short feet in front of my perch at the bar. Oh fuck.
