Was Jo ready for people to see him accepting flowers from a guy? Did Mr. B expect a kiss in return? If so, would Jo push himself into showing his affection here, where all the staff knew them? Even now, he could see Davina’s eyes following Mr. B. She once told Jo she had a little innocent crush on Mr. B despite knowing he was gay. Oh, God, this was uncomfortable.
Mr. B walked up to Jo with that wide smile, holding the flowers, still catching his breath after the bike ride, and before Jo knew what was happening, Mr. B leaned down and gave him a kiss.
His warm lips were gone in half a second, and yet time seemed to stop, everyone seemed to have gone quiet, even the music seemed muted. Was everyone looking at them? Was Jo fine with doing this in public? They had been so busy working at Mr. B’s property that they barely ever went anywhere where people could see them as a couple. Which they even weren’t because Jo had said they were ‘dating-ish’, and Mr. B agreed they should go with the flow, so it was all a mess of undefined feelings.
Jo exhaled, trying not to show his discomfort too much. Mr. B looked so hot, he was momentarily stunned into silence. “Hi. You look different,” was all he could come up with, since his mind was like a giant black void.
The flowers smelled so obscenely lovely.
Mr. B backed away to point at his chest. “You like it? It’s my date shirt.” He handed Jo the roses, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
Jo’s hand squeezed the flowers without him actively thinking about it. “You weren’t joking then,” he said softly and cleared his throat, wishing it was just the two of them. He could act naturally then. This was precisely why he liked being around Mr. B so much—he accepted people the way they were, and this situation had Jo between a rock and a hard place.
He kind of liked the flowers, as silly of a gesture as they seemed, but on the other hand he was acutely aware of gazes sliding over them. So many of his friends frequented this cafe, and now the news would surely spread through the staff.
But when Jo breathed in and Mr. B sat down next to him, he realized the cafe hadn’t actually gone deathly quiet, like he’d previously thought. And no one was staring.
“These are from my brother’s rose bushes. He didn’t want to plant any, but I talked him into it last year, so that I could get rosehip from him, for the jams,” Mr. B spoke excitedly.
“Oh. Okay. They smell nice,” said Jo, now wondering whether those were flowers-flowers, the kind you presented to your date, or if it was just a presentation of the same plant used for the jams.
“Duh. They’re roses. I’m starving. What do you want?” Mr. B was already getting back up again.
Jo licked his lips. “Um, the havrati burger, maybe? The one with Sriracha. Do you remember how much it is?” he asked, reaching for his wallet.
Mr. B dismissed it with a gesture. “Don’t worry about it. But smart move. The most expensive one, since I’m buying.”
Jo licked his lips, his mind going to the hidden files on his computer and the way he was about to deceive Mr. B. He felt like a complete shit. “Oh. Sure. I already have coffee, so...”
Mr. B winked at him and walked off to the counter where Jo could just imagine him talking to Davina about how he and Jo got together. He probably wouldn’t go that far, but Jo still thought he might, and Jo had no idea how he felt about it. He knew he felt good in the moment, that he was definitely sure he wanted Mr. B, but his brain was doing mental zig-zags around the concept of becoming a couple with another man.
He knew it was silly of him, but he had grown so accustomed to the idea that he only dated women that it made him shrink on the inside to think of all the things others would assume about him if they knew. They would assume he was bottoming (which he was), and that he gave Mr. B blowjobs (which he did), but most of all that he’d been in denial about his sexuality and deceived all the girls he dated so far. And he wasn’t like that. He was nothing like that.
Also, now that he wouldn’t be seen as a straight guy, his clothing choices would all be pinned to his sexuality, not his edgy fashion sense, and that struck right at who he was.
He was cool, and he was stylish, and it had nothing to do with who he slept with.
Oblivious to his distress, Mr. B came back with a coffee and donut. He sat down close to Jo at the tiny table and bit into the donut before he even said anything. “So. Good. You know, when I was preparing for the photoshoot, I didn’t eat any sugar or gluten for two weeks.”
Jo knew. Mr. B had been moaning about it. He knew, because they practically lived together—Did they live together? He had moved a whole lot of personal stuff into the train car since this all began, and a toothbrush was one of the lesser things there. The two of them had even been talking of finding a way to get the train Wi-Fi, so that Jo wouldn’t have to go away for it. The mobile internet was pretty weak in the woods.
He kind of felt like Mr. B lost a bit of weight, with his muscle gaining a bit more definition, and he wasn’t sure he liked that too much, especially not at the cost of Mr. B’s comfort. “Maybe I should buy you another one later?” he asked and carefully placed the roses on the side of the table, only now realizing he’d been holding them in his sweaty palm all along.
Mr. B’s eyes glistened. “Yes! We could go get some from the Donut Hole later.”
Jo smiled and moved his fingers across the table, reflexively wanting to touch Mr. B’s hand, but he stopped himself when he once again remembered they weren’t alone. Restricting his reflexes was so ridiculously hard when touching Mr. B all over had become such a natural thing to do. “Let’s do that. You’ve been starving for too long.”
“But the effects, right?” Mr. B flexed his biceps in the short-sleeve shirt.
Jo smiled, swallowing as he leaned in, so that only Mr. B could hear him. “I like it when you can be used as a pillow.”
The dreamy look Mr. B gave Jo, melted his heart and made him want to lean over for a kiss. But he wouldn’t. He didn’t think there was anything wrong or embarrassing about being gay, and yet when it was him in the equation, things seemed different. Maybe because he wasn’t actually gay?
“I’m gonna have another donut then. The matcha one.” Mr. B slid closer. “Later though. Show me the photos first.”
Jo felt himself flush, and for a moment he wasn’t sure if he could go through with his plan and see the happiness drain from Mr. B’s face, but ultimately, this was about their relationship, not Jo’s feelings.
“About that,” he whispered somberly, leaning back against the backrest. His gaze swept over the flowers and the server coming up with their food, and he felt like the worst person on the planet. He was a liar. And a cheat, while Mr. B was lovely and kind, and always so considerate of others.
But Mr. B wouldn’t know Jo lied, so it would all be well in the end. Maybe he’d finally see how ridiculous it was to go into sex work when he had a guy like Jo at his side.
The server smiled at them and put their plates on the table, along with a small vase of water, where he put the flowers with a knowing smile. God damn it.
Mr. B leaned closer. “What is it? Do I look bad in them?”
Joe exhaled and rubbed his face, fighting the nausea rising in his stomach, and was sorry when the server was gone, leaving them alone in their corner. “Something happened to the photos. I just... an update installed on my computer when I left it on overnight, and now they’re gone. I don’t know what happened,” he finished, daring to look up.
The disappointment on Mr. B’s face was crushing, and he gave his half-eaten donut a pained glance. “Oh, no… And the weather was so nice, and I looked so good at the preview. Have you looked in the trash folder thingy?”
Jo swallowed. “Yes. They’re gone. I am so sorry. Maybe we should go with the original flyers after all?” Those no one would treat seriously, and the idea of the brothel would die a natural death.
Mr. B rubbed his forehead and sagged against the backrest of the chair. “No… they suck. I can’t use tho
se.”
Jo swallowed hard and absent-mindedly petted one of the roses instead of Mr. B’s hand. “Look... maybe we should just rethink this whole thing,” he said, wondering if maybe a gentle appeal to Mr. B’s reason would make him give up on the brothel business plan, even if the change was prompted by disappointment.
“Oh, hey, guys,” called out a voice Jo knew intimately. Of course, things like this happened at the worst possible moment. Like in a dream, he turned his head to see Juniper approach them with a wide smile. If a coffee cupcake with lavender-colored sprinkles were a person, it would be Juniper, with her dusky skin and curvy, delicious hips clad in skinny jeans, smile sweeter than icing.
Mr. B’s face lit up a little. “Hey! Juniper, you’re good with computers, right?” An understatement, since Juniper worked in IT.
Jo melted into his chair, waving his hand in greeting, even though he’d gladly pretend he wasn’t there. In this moment he wished he and Juniper hadn’t been grown-ups about their breakup and hadn’t stayed friends.
She grinned, pulling a chair away from an empty table nearby, and sat between the two of them, acutely unaware that she was invading a date. “Sure. What do you need?” she asked, glancing at the flowers and at Mr. B’s outfit. “You look fancy? Who’s the lucky guy?”
Mr. B glanced at Jo with hesitation as clear as the sky today. Of course. Because he was a sweet guy, and would leave the answer up to Jo. “I…” He pulled Jo’s laptop closer, and Jo now regretted giving Mr. B his password. There were so many things he regretted today.
“He’s meeting up with someone later,” said Jo, and when he spotted the hurt passing across Mr. B’s face, he knew it would be yet another item on the list of the things he’d be sorry for once the sun went down.
“Someone’s gonna get lucky,” Juniper said, pushing back her lavender-tinted hair and accepting the computer from Mr. B. “What am I looking at?”
Mr. B quickly reported what happened, making Jo sink deeper and deeper into his seat. He jumped when Juniper addressed him again.
“Are you sure it was an update? Did you do a virus scan?”
Jo cleared his throat, briefly glancing at Mr. B. “I didn’t, but it looked like an update, so...”
“What was the name of the folder?” she asked, typing something on the keyboard.
Mr. B cleared his throat. “Wood.” Jo hated seeing him so deflated. Mr. B hadn’t even touched his burger or fries, when by now he’d usually be at least halfway through.
Juniper frowned slightly, looking up at Jo. “I think you’ve just accidentally hidden it. I’ve restored it for you.”
Mr. B exhaled loudly, but his smile looked forced. “Lifesaver! Wow. I’ve avoided gluten and sugar for two weeks to look good in those photos.” Mr. B had been talking about that a lot, so it was only normal that he told Juniper as well, but somehow Jo felt the comment was aimed at him. As if to remind Jo how much work Mr. B put in, only to be lied to and have the effects of his work taken away.
Jo squirmed in his chair, feeling his stomach clench rapidly. He practically jumped when Juniper picked herself up. “All right guys. I’ve only popped in for a takeout to the office. See you another time, yeah?”
Jo nodded. “See you soon.”
Mr. B said his good-byes as well, but Jo wasn’t sure if her presence had been worse, or the silence she left behind.
He licked his lips, not trusting himself to look into Mr. B’s eyes. “Sorry about that. At least she found them, right?” he asked in the end.
“Did you hide them on purpose? Don’t lie to me, Jo.”
Jo shuddered. The sense of dread weighed heavily on his stomach. His first instinct was to pretend it had all been a horrible mistake, to sigh in exasperation and ask Why would I do that?, but he couldn’t bring himself to lie into Mr. B’s face. “I’m sorry,” was all he was capable of.
“Are you sabotaging me? Why would you do that? You know how much work and money I’ve packed into this thing.” Mr. B’s face was getting redder by the second. “Are you jealous?”
Jo clenched his teeth. “People are watching us.”
Mr. B took a deep breath, and spoke in a hushed voice. “You even told your mom we were dating-ish, but you won’t tell her?” He watched Jo as if something hit him just now. “Of course. You only told your mom because she walked in on us. There was no other way to get out of it.”
Jo frowned. “My mom isn’t gonna tell all our friends and my co-workers. Juniper works in the same building as me.”
“Half your co-workers are LGBT in one way or another. You work in freaking media.” Mr. B got up and grabbed the flowers. After a moment of hesitation, he grabbed the donut too. “I’m not in the mood for this anymore.”
Jo stood up, his gaze following the flowers. Having them taken away felt like his heart being ripped out of his chest. “Come, on, B. It’s not that simple. You must see this.”
But Mr. B didn’t answer. He walked out of the cafe, tense as a string, and went straight for his bicycle. Jo picked up his bag, tossed the laptop inside, and followed him, leaving all the food on the table, untouched.
“Mr. B, come on, talk to me,” he shouted the moment the doors of the cafe closed behind him. He practically ran to the bicycle parking and grabbed the top tube of the frame when Mr. B was about to mount the bike. The flowers were crudely squashed next to a shopping bag in the front basket, battered and already losing petals, like some sick metaphor of Jo and Mr. B’s relationship.
“What is there to talk about? You’re ashamed of me. I thought I would be okay to keep things low-key for a while. That you were an open-minded guy, so you’d adjust soon-ish, but you don’t seem happy about whatever it is between us, and yet you’re trying to sabotage my business.”
“Because you shouldn’t be doing this,” Jo yelled, flinching when two passersby glared at his loud voice. “This won’t be good for you. I thought you’d just see that yourself, but you clearly hadn’t.”
Mr. B was stunned into silence for a while. “You helped me install a hot tub. I borrowed money from my brother for this!”
Jo squirmed. “You can still use the hot tub. Last time I tried to tell you that you wouldn’t be able to handle sex work if you couldn’t handle an open relationship, you didn’t handle that truth well either. I thought you’d eventually come to that conclusion yourself. I wanted to be supportive.”
Mr. B’s teeth gritted together so loudly Jo shuddered at the sound. “Why do you care if I can handle it or not? Last time I checked, we weren’t even dating. I feel like such an idiot. I thought you were my boyfriend!”
Jo groaned, so angry he’d toss the laptop against the wall if he could afford such a gesture. “Well, maybe I don’t want a boyfriend who does sex work! Did you consider that?”
Mr. B stalled, staring at him intensely, eyes wandering as if Jo’s words started some kind of enlightening process. It made Jo hope that he’d finally gotten through that thick beard to the brain, but the scowl that appeared on Mr. B’s face didn’t suggest anything good was coming. “Then you should have said you wanted a boyfriend in the first place. You should have told Juniper we were dating. Not ‘ish’, not ‘sort of’. Dating. Being together. Christ!” He forced the bike out of Jo’s grip. “You told me you had the biggest crush on me when I was taken, and now that you got a chance to be with me, you don’t want to. Was I only good as a concept?”
Jo stepped away, hurt by that assumption, and yet he could see where Mr. B was coming from. “You can’t expect me to act like I’m out when I’m not,” he said weakly and touched Mr. B’s shoulder again, completely beaten down.
Mr. B’s features softened, but he only seemed more deflated because of it. “I get it. You have to do it in your own time, but I can’t go back in the closet, I just can’t. And you know this is not a good-bye forever, because we always make up one way or another, but I can’t see you right now. If you can’t do this with me, I have to move on. I just can’t promise you I’ll be avail
able once you figure yourself out.”
Jo didn’t know what to say, too shocked to come up with something smart, something that would keep Mr. B with him forever. He blinked against the sun that hurt his eyes and swallowed, staying silent when Mr. B finally got on his bike and rode off.
Jo watched him all the way until he disappeared beyond the corner, leaving behind stray petals that fell off the bouquet. The roses had seemed so odd at first, but now that they had been taken away from him, Jo wanted them more than anything else in the world.
He pushed his hands into his pockets, standing alone in front of the bicycle parking as self-confidence and happiness drained out of him and straight into the gutter. Without Mr. B, what would his plans even be? In the last few weeks, Jo had built his life even more around his lover, and with the possibility of spending time together gone, Jo had no idea what to do with himself.
His friends were out partying a lot, but he didn’t want to see them. Not with Mr. B staying alone in the woods. Jo had no idea how to even start ‘figuring himself out’. He didn’t even have a toothbrush at home.
Chapter 8
Jo’s favorite craft beer tasted bland. The live music he usually liked at this bar was equally uninteresting. He didn’t feel like talking to any of the strangers around, unwilling to put up a smiling face for them or come up with cheerful reasons why he was here alone. Mr. B had told him in no uncertain terms that they were over for now, so Jo could technically flirt with some of the girls, but he didn’t feel like that either.
He kind of just wanted to slip back under the throw they slept under at Mr. B’s.
For the last few days, he really regretted living at home, because he hadn’t told his mother of the breakup, of course, and now his whole family wanted Mr. B over for Sunday lunch. Jo knew it would have been too soon, and his parents would likely embarrass him with childhood photos or something of that sort, but he knew Mr. B would have enjoyed himself.
No wonder everyone loved him.
Jo downed his beer, absent-mindedly browsing through his favorite online store. He was on the lookout for a new watch, and since he had a bit of money to splash out, why not make at least something in his life work again?
Hipster Brothel (contemporary gay romance) Page 9
