What the hell is in his closet? I’ll have to read his electric meter to see if he’s growing weed, although an ethereal light wasn’t emanating from inside. I hope it’s not a stash of guns and ammo. Blow up doll?
I’m wasting time. I go to the bag.
Right on the top is a textbook for some Spanish class. Yay. But directly underneath that appears to be an article of clothing. Lavender, fuzzy clothing to be exact. I gingerly lift up the book and slide the sweater out from underneath it. It’s pretty, something that I would definitely wear, but there’s no way it’s his ex’s because she’s, like, a size 0 and the tag in the back of the sweater says that it’s an XL. I also note that it’s ninety-percent angora. Hence the fuzzy softness.
I fold it back up and scope the rest of the bag. A couple of coffee mugs, a picture of an older couple, which are probably his parents – he looks like the man quite a bit. There’s a ceramic bowl wedged at the bottom full of spare change and paperclips. A Chapstick. No wonder he hasn’t bothered to do anything with this bag yet. It’s a dud. Except for the sweater that I put back in the nick of time just as Liam opens the bathroom door.
I put my hands behind my back and raise my gaze to the Buccaneers poster on the wall above the table. “Nice art. I saw this tour too when it came through Chicago.”
“Sweet.” His eyes flick to the bag and then back to me. “Yeah, Ari and I took the summer after graduation off and followed them around the country. We were actually at the second Chicago show.”
“Yeah, same here.” I cross my arms. I’m a creep. A first-rate nosy creep.
“Cool.”
“It was. Their production value is off the hook.”
“Agreed.” Liam grabs his coat off the back of the chair tucked under the table, transfers his wallet and keys from his jeans to his coat pocket, and then snags the tickets from the front of the fridge. “All right, let’s go see a man in a skirt.”
X
The movie is pretty bad, but in a good way. Liam enjoys the hell out of it and I like that about him. Our hands co-mingle in our shared giganto bucket of popcorn a couple of times. We do not share a soda. He’s having a Cherry Coke, which I think tastes like cough syrup. I go with orange Fanta’cause I wanta wanta.
It’s almost eight by the time we get out of the theater, and even though I live only a few blocks away from the Bijoux, and even though I’ve literally spent almost the entire day with Liam, I find myself wishing the walk was longer so I could keep talking to him.
“You want to go get a drink now?” he asks. “We could go to RUMORS. They don’t start charging the cover until nine.”
“Sure. Although, just think of how this day could’ve turned out if you weren’t a puritan and thought three o’clock on a Saturday afternoon was too early to drink.”
He bumps his shoulder into mine. “I think this day has been awesome. I wouldn’t want to change a thing.”
Gulp. “I didn’t mean to sound like I didn’t have a good time hanging out with you today, I was just kidding.”
“What is this kidding you speak of? I no understand.”
I shoulder bump him back.
We walk in the direction of the club. He puts his hands in his pockets right about the second I’m feeling brave and like I might try holding his hand. I have no idea what is going on, but things seem to be going mutually well. I decide then and there that I will sleep with him. I’ll take one for the plain girl team and give up my burgeoning friendship with Liam if he wants to do it with me because if I don’t take the chances when they come to me, I might be in dry spell hell forever.
“Actually,” he starts, “all kidding aside, thanks for being cool. I haven’t been on anything resembling a real date since last summer, and you’re super easy to talk to, easy to be with.”
“Hey, who you calling easy?” I say, clearing my throat. “I was just thinking about how I haven’t had sex in over a year. Is that the mark of a loose woman?”
He looks at me, eyes wide. “God. That is a long time.”
“Yep, it is.” I nod. “A personal record. Before that my longest dry spell was seven months. Definitely more tolerable, although I don’t recommend it.”
He whistles. “I’m at six now, and I may have watched all the porn on the entire Internet. My condolences to your vagina.”
“My vagina thanks you.”
Yeah, that’s a thing to say. My vagina wishes she could thank him.
He smiles at me sweetly. “Did it like the wreath I sent?”
Chapter Eight
Liam is right about the cover, and the bouncer that was a dick to me last time gets a little flustered as Liam walks past him. Ah-ha. Someone’s got a crush.
I nod at the bouncer and he looks away. All right dude, we could’ve shared a moment of underdog solidarity there, but whatever.
RUMORS is just starting to fill up, but there are a few tables left around the edge of the empty dance floor. It’s the liquid courage hour before the music gets loud and people gotta dance! Liam weaves through the seating area toward a table and I follow him. He smiles and gives little waves to a couple of the servers. They look me up and down.
Okay. Damn, I get it. He’s super fucking hot and I’m not.
Liam takes off his coat and hangs it on the back of his chair. I do the same.
“What do you want to drink?” he asks. “Gimlet?”
I go to pull out my chair, but then he’s got his hand on the back of it, helping me into it in a flash. “Actually, I’ll take a margarita on the rocks, light salt.” I somehow manage to act like I get treated this well all the time.
He cringes. “Ooh, tequila. Are you sure? I get in so much trouble—”
“Uh, yeah, me too,” I say, laughing. “That’s the whole point. Are we drinkin’ Garrett, or are we here for a Bible study?”
Liam sighs. “All right, all right. Be back in a sec.”
I watch him walk over to the bar, and people get out of his way so he can go right up to the front and order. Priceless. If nothing else comes of this, maybe I can convince him to accompany me to drinking establishments to fetch beverages in a timely manner.
He comes back with a tray containing four shots, a couple of lime wedges, a salt shaker, and two Coronas. He sets it down on the table. “If we’re going to drink tequila, we’re going to fucking drink tequila.”
Fine by me, son. “You really are a drink Nazi, you know that?”
He sits down. “I’m a purist. I like things to be what they are, generally.”
I peer into a shot glass and regard the clear liquor. “I see you sprung for the moderately priced stuff.”
“I can’t do Gold.” Liam makes a yuck face. “The only time I’ve ever been blackout drunk was with that shit. I woke up in a field without any pants on, but still wearing my shirt and shoes. I’m still not totally clear on what happened.”
“Yikes. I promise not to let you get that out of control if you promise the same to me.”
“Deal.” He licks his hand and sprinkles some salt on it and then holds the shaker out toward me. “Lick it and I’ll shake it.”
I can’t help but giggle. “Oh my God, I feel like I might already need to pull you back from the edge of embarrassment if you’re going to say crap like that.”
He grins. “Lick it. Lick it. Lick it.”
I lick my hand and thrust it at him. He taps the shaker and sprinkles the salt on my hand. Then he gives me a shot and a lime and picks his up.
“To a day well spent,” he toasts.
“And a night to remember, like, literally.”
I flick my tongue across the back of my hand, getting the tiniest bit of salt, and then toss the shot down my throat. It burns in a good, sweet way. I shove the lime in between my teeth and suck.
Liam passes me my other shot and raises his glass again. “To earth-bound baby mamas!”
“And Alien man hoo-ers.”
Lick, shoot, suck. I shake my head and grab one of the beers, taking
a quick sip.
“I’m kind of frightened by how good I feel,” Liam says. “This is very reminiscent of my pantsless lost night.”
“You were at a drag club with your scene partner doing shots?” I deadpan.
He laughs. “No, not anything remotely close to that. I said feeling. Back then I’d just begun to figure some stuff out about myself and let myself live in it, and I’m feeling that again.”
Oh, really? “What are you figuring out?”
Liam’s eyes meet mine. “That I can have fun again. That I can hang out with a woman who’s not Ariana and y’know, be interesting and…interested. You get used to history, complacent even, and it’s nice to be building a friendship with someone again.”
Suddenly it’s hard to breathe.
Must. Recover. With. Sarcasm. “Wow. Are you sure your shots weren’t whiskey,’cause that was straight up whiskey talk right there. Tequila makes you say shit like, ‘Fuck yeah dude, you are the fuuuuuuuu….coolest, man.’”
There’s a glint in his eye. He’s not going to let me put up my defenses. “Don’t you try to play it off like you don’t think about things, Dani.”
I take a swig of my beer. “Obviously, but I tend to keep them in my head or—”
“Or write them down and perform them in front of a hundred people?” Liam chuckles.
“Exactly.” I grin. Oxygen into facehole. “I’m glad to be building a friendship with you too, even if you are a big sap.”
A female server comes up to our table and sets a shot in front of Liam. “This is from that redhead over at the end of the bar,” she says and then walks away.
Liam looks at me, his eyes sad.
I shrug. “Free liquor.”
He holds it up. “To building a friendship.” He takes a sip of the shot and then hands the glass to me. “Your share.”
“You don’t have to,” I say, shaking my head.
Liam nudges it toward me. “Please. What’s mine is yours.” I take hold of it and he sips his beer. He smiles. “With regards to pre-purchased movie tickets and shots from skanky redheads.”
I finish the drink. “Skanky, huh? Sure I’m not cockblocking you?” And now I’m in wing-man mode, my default setting. Come hell or high water, one of us is getting laid tonight, and I guess my money is on Liam.
He sticks out his tongue. “Meh, I can skip the experience.”
“Really?” I turn toward the bar to check out the redhead. She shoots me a withering glare. Ha. “She looks like prime rebound material to me. You could hit that and walk away.”
Again with the tongue. “Gross.”
Are we in an alternate universe? “What are you talking about?”
“One night stands are gross.” Liam levels his gaze at me. “I’m putting part of my body into someone else’s body. That’s not gonna happen five minutes after I meet you.”
“Must be nice to have that choice.” I think back to the first day I met him. Yup. Five minutes definitely would’ve been enough of an intro.
He leans forward, narrowing his eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh, nothing.” I try to wave the tension between us away. “I do have one night stands...only. I’ve had sex a total of five times with five different people.”
He’s making that weird face again where I can’t tell if he’s about to cry or disgusted by me. “What’s your issue?”
“I don’t have an issue.” I cross my arms over my chest. “It’s not like I wouldn’t have, y’know, dated any of them and stuck it out for a few months. But, contrary to popular belief, not all women can just go out and get laid whenever they want. Some of us have to take what we can get when we can get it.”
Liam points at me, shaking his head. “There’s your issue right there. Fuck, why are you so down on yourself?”
“I wasn’t always like this,” I say, indignant. “So don’t give me that ‘low self-confidence is a turn-off’ bullshit. Just because what I believe about my sex life sucks, doesn’t make it not true.”
He sighs. “Did you have, like, a reputation for being someone that lets guys treat them that way?”
My hands curl into fists. “No, I had a reputation for being the girl that hung out with the gay kid that fucking killed himself.”
Liam’s eyes go sad again. “Well, don’t do it anymore. You deserve someone who wants you every time you walk in the room.”
I don’t have a witty comeback for that. It’s the nicest thing any guy has ever said to me.
Okay, maybe I do have one. “I’m going to step outside and then come back in. You let me know if you think anyone in this drag bar wants me.”
“I cou--”
“And this one,” the server says, “is from the guy over by the stage.” She sets down a single Corona.
WHAT was he going to say? I could? I could what? Want me? No. He could let me know. Duh.
“Hey, Andrea,” Liam says to the waitress. “If anyone else wants to buy me a drink, tell them I respectfully decline. I’m here with my friend and they’re being rude. Oh, and while you’re at it, Dani needs a fresh beer and we’ll each have two more shots of tequila. Thanks.”
I smile at him and decide to change the subject before things get any more awkward and I start getting weird ideas in my head about Liam liking me. “So, I guess you’ll start working on Townsend House next week, huh?”
He downs his nearly finished beer and pushes the new one off to the side. “The read-through is Tuesday night, which I’ll miss ’cause I’ll be working here, but we’re not going to start pulling costumes until Thursday night.”
“How often do you work?”
“I bar back Monday and Tuesday and tutor high school kids in Spanish Thursday and Sunday afternoon.” He sets his elbows on the table and puts his face in his hands, rubbing his palms over his cheeks. “What about you? I haven’t heard you mention work.”
I run my fingers up and down the condensation on my empty beer bottle. “I have a deal with my parents. They pay my tuition, and I don’t work during the school year. I lived in the dorms last year, which they paid for too. But I waitressed all through high school and last summer and saved every penny, so I had a good chunk of change sitting in my bank account waiting for me when Elizabeth and I decided to get a place.”
“That’s one hell of a deal.” He taps his fingers along his jaw line. “I’m going to be paying off student loans until I’m fifty.”
“I know. I’m totally lucky.” God, I wish this beer had a label to pull off! “I think my parents are just grateful I didn’t develop a meth habit after what I went through senior year.”
“There you go again, using your friend’s death for your own personal gain.” He winks at me.
I sigh. “I know.” For once, thinking about Chase brings a smile to my face. “He would’ve appreciated that comment. He was scathing in the best way.”
Liam smiles back at me. “I can tell you miss him.” His eyebrows draw together. “So, was it like having a boyfriend, but without the sex, the whole hag thing you had going on? I always wondered what the dynamic was in those relationships.”
I shrug. “I guess. We were best friends. We were supposed to go to college together and have dorm rooms across the hall from each other. Later we were going to get an apartment. I was going to write poetry and bake and he was going to compose symphonies and bring home hot bisexual boys for me to make out with.” Deep breaths, girl. “We had plans and stupid dreams, just like any other couple.”
The furrow between Liam’s brows grows deeper. “I’m really sorry he left you behind.”
My eyes threaten to tear up. I don’t know how Liam gets me to talk about things I don’t even talk about with Elizabeth.
Andrea comes back with my beer and our shots, plonking them down on the table. “Put it on your tab, Liam?”
He nods. “That’d be fine, thanks.”
“I will definitely get the next round,” I say.
“And I will let you buy me a
drink.”
We hold up our shot glasses.
Liam bows his head to me. “To not being addicted to meth.”
Lick, shoot, suck.
“To…hey I think the DJ is going to start spinning.”
Liam lifts his second glass and hands me mine. “To you dancing and me watching you dance because theeeres no way in hell you’re getting me to dance. So don’t even ask, or look at me that way like getting me to dance is your ultimate challenge. Yes I know I should’ve not said anything and you might have left me alone.”
Lick, shoot, suck.
“Nah,” I say, feeling the liquor loosening up my body. “You were always gonna have to dance with me.”
X
Liam is a horrible dancer. Closed eyes, white man’s overbite, the whole shebang. But, I will give him bonus points for knowing that and doing it anyway. I try not to think about what this means for his general rhythmic ability in other pursuits.
Oh, who am I kidding? I’m wanting, more than ever, to be the someone else he puts his body part in, even if he does look to be having a fit of some kind at this moment.
The redhead makes her way across the dance floor toward us. She stops next to me and narrows her eyes then smiles like…like a bitch. My mind is a little tequila foggy.
“As you can see,” I shout so she can hear me over the music. “He can’t dance. It’s best if you move along and let the poor boy be.”
She slides in between us and puts her hands on his hips, tossing back at me, “Maybe he just needs a better partner.”
I wait for Liam to be offended on my behalf again, but he puts his hands on her and pulls her closer to him.
Ouch.
I suddenly need to put my lipstick on so I can stop feeling so damn invisible. I run to our table and grab my backpack and then head to the bathrooms at the back of the club.
I catch a glance of myself in the mirrored hallway. I’m a little sweaty, but I still look good, for me. Down the hall behind a curtain I hear the drag queens getting ready for their show. They’ll dance with me.
Crossing Page 6
