Kiss Me Forever

by M. J. O'Shea

  Tyson grinned and stood. Then he held out his hand and helped his… prey? No, not prey. It wasn’t like that. He helped the most adorable creature he’d ever seen, out of the booth. He probably should’ve dropped his hand as he led him back to the bar, but Tyson couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead he twined their fingers together and reveled in the innocent gesture. It was almost too soon when they were back where he’d been, seated, and drawing knowing glances from his friend behind the bar.

  “SO, um, hi. I’m Avery.” Don’t be a dork. Don’t be a dork. Avery thought he had to be dreaming. He knew he was cute enough, but actual gods didn’t pick him up in bars. Ever.

  “Hi. Tyson.”

  He was even more incredible-looking than he’d been a few minutes ago at the bar, however that was possible, and his voice was smooth and low and musical. Avery had to quash the impulse to pinch himself. If he had to create the guy out of pure imagination, the one guy who would be the most physically attractive to him, it would be exactly this. He realized he was leaning closer, but he couldn’t find the impulse to care or correct it. Avery breathed in and smelled warm cologne and skin. He shuddered.

  “So, you’re here with Donovan?” Tyson asked.

  Who? Oh, right. Donovan. Not important. Avery tried to come up with something to say other than please kiss me. “You know him?”

  Tyson shrugged. “He’s a nice guy. We see each other around.”

  He didn’t look like he wanted to say more about how he and Donovan were connected, so Avery decided to change the subject. He wasn’t resorting to the weather, and “Do you come here much?” was too lame for even him, so he decided to go with talking about the bar. That was safe, right? Not too lame?

  “Where did this place come from? I’ve never seen it, and I live only a few streets away.” He thought he sounded reasonably unflustered.

  “Giving away all your secrets already?” Tyson asked with a chuckle.

  “Oh, um.” Avery blushed. There goes unflustered.

  “I’m just joking. I live in the Garden District, so now you know where I live too. And this place has been here… well, for a very long time. But technically it’s a members’ club, so we don’t really advertise.”

  “Donovan?”

  “Yeah. He’s been a, uh, member for a while. Me too.”

  “So….” Avery felt painfully awkward. Like, he wanted to say so much, breathe Tyson in again and again, be closer, listen to his voice, but he didn’t know what to do first. “I’m so awkward. I’m really out of practice at this.”

  Of course that was what he said. It was the truth at least. Which he supposed came from spending most of his life in academia and not out picking up guys at exclusive private clubs. Or being invited to exclusive private clubs.

  “To be honest, I’m kind of out of practice too.”

  Avery bit his lip to keep from asking how on earth old Tyson was when he started dating if he was already “out of practice.”

  “So, Avery, what brings you here tonight? How do you know Donovan?”

  “I don’t, really.” Avery smiled. “We were at another bar, and Donovan and my friend Macy hit it off.” He gestured at the table, where Macy was in the middle of a lively conversation with Donovan and Vaughn. It made Avery feel a little less guilty for ditching Vaughn with the new happy couple.

  “So you guys followed him here?”

  “Macy’s one of my best friends,” Avery said firmly.

  Tyson nodded.

  “And you? How did you find out about this place?”

  “Friends,” Tyson answered. “I know a lot of the people here.”

  It was awkward, Avery’s participation made sure of that… but not awkward in a “get me out of this conversation please” kind of way, more in a “we have to talk for a while before we can move on to kissing” kind of way. He loved and hated it in equal parts.

  “Oh.” Avery wracked his brain and tried to come up with something cool to say. He listened to the heavy beat coming from the dance floor that seemed to thud deep in his chest. “I like this song,” he finally said.

  Tyson grinned. “Nine Inch Nails. My favorite.”

  “They seem a little old-school for you.” Tyson was a little confusing. Quirky for sure, but definitely not in a bad way. Avery wanted to know more.

  “You’d be surprised.” Tyson laughed. “So what were you drinking?”

  “Um, I don’t know, actually. Donovan ordered for the table.”

  “Anything you don’t like?”

  “Just tequila. Tequila makes me sick.” Ever since Avery had snuck into his first frat party at sixteen and downed way too many shots of it.

  “No tequila for you.” Avery got a slow wink that should’ve been a little corny but wasn’t. It managed to be somehow sweet and sexy as hell at the same time.

  Tyson leaned over and murmured something to the bartender, who came back with two drinks, one that looked suspiciously like… water? And then another one that was purple and shimmery and glimmered in the lights like magic.

  “You strike me as a guy who could appreciate a nice sparkly drink.”

  Avery wished he had the sophisticated palate to appreciate a nice aged scotch, but he didn’t. It was colorful, fruity drinks all the way. “I think you have me pegged.”

  Tyson raised his eyebrow, and Avery spluttered. “Not what I meant. Jesus.” He took a long sip of the drink to cover his embarrassment. It was fruity, a little plummy, and it was almost like he could taste the sparkles, feel them glitter their way down his throat and into his belly.

  “Like it?” Tyson asked.

  “Yeah. I really do. It’s incredible.” Whatever the hell this Dan guy did to the drinks, Avery was a fan.

  “They make the best drinks here.”

  “And you?”

  “Oh.” Tyson waved him off. “I have to be up early tomorrow.”

  THE awkwardness burned off with every sip Avery took of the sparkly purple drink. Soon he and Tyson were laughing over movies and music, talking a mile a minute about which classical composer they liked best, and leaning closer and closer as they went. Avery inhaled, smelled Tyson’s scent, and leaned closer still.

  He never remembered feeling something like this before—it must be what real attraction felt like. His entire body seemed to orient itself around Tyson. His laugh made Avery’s skin pebble with gooseflesh, and his voice caused shivers. When Tyson reached out and played with Avery’s fingers as they talked, Avery thought he might just melt off his stool and into Tyson’s lap. Please say I can take you home. Avery wanted to taste his lips so badly.

  “What do you do for work?” Tyson asked.

  “Hmm?” Avery realized he’d been contemplating kissing Tyson. Like, actually leaning forward out of the blue and kissing him.

  “You seem to know so much about a lot of things. What do you do?”

  “Oh, I’m a professor at Tulane.”

  Tyson’s eyes lit up. “Really? That’s incredible.”

  Avery grinned at him. He looked so sweet and young and excited by the prospect.

  “Well. What do you teach? You’ve probably managed to meet the biggest nerd in the bar. I want to hear all about it.”

  Avery wouldn’t have expected to pick up a gorgeous man whose face would light up like that at the prospect of talking about… school?

  “It varies. This semester I’m teaching Origins of Myth and Legend, US History, and Mesoamerican Civilizations.”

  “That’s quite the broad spread.”

  “I’m a bit of a geek too.”

  “I have an archaeology degree, so you don’t have to talk to me about being a geek.”

  “You do? You don’t look old enough to have a degree.”

  “And you don’t look old enough to be a professor.” Tyson grinned. “Do you want another drink?”

  Avery didn’t want to be sloshed, and he’d had quite a few drinks already that night. He wanted to remember this guy, this bar, this one crazy moment. “I
think I’ll stick to water.”

  Tyson waved the bartender down and got Avery a water. He handed it over and watched Avery take a sip.

  “What?” Avery asked.

  “Sorry, I just….” Tyson leaned closer. They were going to kiss. Avery was going to be kissed, and he knew already that it was going to be incredible. His pulse raced, and he felt Tyson’s warm breath against his cheek. The music in the background faded to a distant thump, and… fuck. Tyson leaned closer and closer, their breath mingled, Avery reached up to cup Tyson’s cheek, and….

  “Hey, Avery. We’re going to head out.”

  Macy. Are you kidding me?

  Tyson leaned back, and the rueful smile on his face said he felt the same.

  “Oh. Hi. I’m Avery’s friend Macy.” She at least had the grace to look sheepish for interrupting.

  “Hi,” Tyson said. He shook her hand politely.

  “C’mon, Avery. This girl is going to turn into a pumpkin pretty soon.”

  “I….” He looked at Tyson.

  I want to see you again, I want to kiss you, I want to take you home and touch every part of you….

  He was about to say he’d stay and see the others later when Tyson stood. The moment was officially over.

  “It was nice to meet you.” Tyson smiled indulgently at him. Then he did something Avery hadn’t expected. He grabbed a napkin from the stack on the bar and a pen from the register. He wrote something down and then slipped it into Avery’s hand.

  “Really nice,” he whispered. Then he kissed Avery on the cheek and disappeared into the crowd.

  AVERY barely breathed until they were back out on the quiet street.

  “Oh my God, what just happened in there?” Macy asked.

  He was still spinning, kind of high off a few too many drinks and Lord knows what else. Adrenaline? Pure lust? Whatever it was, it was potent, and his feet barely felt the ground.

  “I’m not sure,” he said. “That was….”

  “So unlike you.”

  It wasn’t like he never dated, but he didn’t date very often, and Macy knew that. He sure as hell never picked up beautiful mysterious guys at strange bars he’d never been to, and damn, he so would’ve gone home with Tyson if he’d asked. In a fucking heartbeat he would’ve gone home with him. He still felt Tyson’s hand on his thigh when he leaned in to ask about his lectures. He still smelled him. In a way he was still mentally leaning forward for that kiss. He wanted it so badly.

  “Are we going to talk about you?” He turned to Macy and raised his eyebrows. He didn’t know what to say about Tyson, so he was happy to try to distract her. He doubted it would work for very long. Macy was quite tenacious when she wanted to know something.

  “Um, let’s walk. We can walk you home and call an Uber from your place, right?”

  “Sure. I have some leftover pie if you guys want it.” It was a balmy night outside, with just a slight wind coming off the river. Avery couldn’t quite reconcile the neighborhood he knew like the back of his hand with the unreal experience he’d just had. It was like getting shoved out of a dream into the harsh light of day. He blinked at the streetlight for a minute.

  “Yes, please,” Vaughn said. “Dinner was way too long ago.”

  “Did you have fun tonight?” Avery asked. He was a little worried about just wandering off for what had to be close to two hours and leaving Vaughn with Macy and Donovan.

  Vaughn chuckled. “I wouldn’t have missed that place for the world.”

  “Sorry we both kind of ditched you.”

  “I had a rather interesting talk with Brooke when she had a slow couple of minutes.” Vaughn grinned.

  “Really?”

  He chuckled. “Not like that. But damn, that was the most unexpected night I’ve had in a long time.” Vaughn raked a hand through curls that were usually perfectly arranged in a neat dark pile on his head. He looked a little bit like Avery felt—like maybe he’d been dragged through the doorway to another world and deposited on the other side.

  “That was the most interesting night I’ve had, ever.” Avery sighed.

  Macy put her arm through the crook of his elbow and tugged him down the street toward his house.

  “Hey, you changed the subject, Missy. You? Donovan?”

  “You changed the subject first, and I’m nowhere near drunk enough to let you get away with it forever. He’s pretty gorgeous, though, isn’t he?” she asked. She smirked at Avery.

  “Yeah, he’s gorgeous all right.” Donovan wasn’t Tyson—nobody was—but he was still a very beautiful man.

  “I kind of feel like I’m robbing the cradle. I have no idea how old he is, but his skin…. It’s like a baby’s ass.”

  Avery snorted. “That’s exactly what I noticed about him. Ass skin. Are you seeing him again?”

  “Are you seeing…?”

  “Tyson,” Avery whispered. “His name is Tyson.” It almost felt weird saying it out loud. Like it broke some kind of spell.

  “Are you seeing him again?”

  “I don’t know. I have his number.”

  Macy gave him a small high five. “I have Donovan’s number too. But I don’t know. It was a really fun night, and Donovan is gorgeous as hell. I wouldn’t mind taking him home with me for a bit of fun, but I’m not really looking for, like, someone to date, date.” She shrugged. “I guess my answer is we’ll see.”

  That didn’t seem like the Macy who’d been in the club—jealous and oddly clingy. She seemed more like herself, which made Avery feel better. He chose to echo her.

  “Yeah, we’ll see,” he said.

  Vaughn chuckled. “Look at you. You’re, like, practically mooning over there.” He made a show of checking if Avery’s feet were touching the ground.

  Avery didn’t blame him. He felt like they weren’t. “He was so….” Avery didn’t even have words to describe what had happened.

  “He was, man. He was.”

  IT didn’t take long to get to Avery’s place—it really was that close to the club that had seemed to appear out of nowhere. He led his two friends up the stairs to the porch and unlocked the door. Avery thought he felt someone watching them on the street, but when he turned to look, no one was there. He brushed it off. It had been too good of a night for more of his creepy feelings. The night had felt like fate, somehow, the beginning of something. Maybe it was the sparkly purple drink talking.

  They went in, and he turned on the lights in his living room. “Coffee?” he asked.

  “Yes, please.”

  “Always.”

  He went into the kitchen, got plates and a knife and some forks, then filled his coffee machine up and started it. He went back out with the pie and the plates and sank into the armchair across from where Vaughn and Macy were sprawled on his couch. They’d done a few movie nights and been over to watch football—a sport Avery was mostly into for the social aspect and less for the actual sport itself—so his two friends looked like they belonged in his space.

  “This was a crazy night, wasn’t it?” Macy asked. They’d all said it a few times, but it still felt like it hadn’t sunk in yet. Might not ever.

  “Did you figure out what the hell was in those drinks?” Vaughn asked. “I’m already craving another one.”

  Avery chuckled. “I’m a little afraid to ask. I’m not sure it was all regular alcohol. I feel a little floaty. Am I floating?”

  Vaughn and Macy chuckled. “I think that might be the loooove talking,” Vaughn said.

  Avery scoffed. “I think the coffee is done.”

  “Right.”

  MACY and Vaughn stayed for about an hour after that, eating the last of one of Etta’s many custard pies and drinking coffee. It was a different kind of fun than the club, safe and comfortable and familiar, but it felt good after the mystery and uncertainty of the night. He felt good. Avery waved them goodbye when their Uber came and promised to talk to them the next day. Then he went into his room and started stripping for the shower.


  Avery felt a little sticky and sweaty, although he didn’t know why, because he hadn’t been dancing. Maybe it was the adrenaline that made his skin feel like that. Who knew? He stepped under the cool spray of his shower and thought about earlier. It seemed almost like a dream at that point, like maybe it hadn’t happened and he’d spent the night on the couch, hanging out with his friends. But… no. It had happened. It had. He wasn’t dreaming Tyson’s smell or the way they’d almost kissed. He washed his hair and his skin, got out of the shower and dried off, but it wasn’t until he was about to throw his pants in the hamper that he remembered about the little scrap of paper Tyson had given him. Avery slid his hand into his pocket, and there it was. He drew out the napkin, and in neat writing Tyson had written his name and number. It was real. He’d really been there. It had happened.

  Avery pulled on a pair of boxer briefs and slipped into his bed. He made sure the ceiling fan was on and placed Tyson’s number under his phone on the bedside table for safekeeping.

  It was real.

  It had really happened.

  Chapter Four

  AVERY woke up the next morning with more of that feeling, the one that told him last night didn’t happen, that he’d dreamed it somehow. It all did kind of seem like a dream montage from a movie—the club, the lights, Tyson and his luminous skin and plump lips—like it had all floated by in a blur he’d imagined. That was until Avery went to pick up his phone from where he’d dumped the contents of his pocket on the nightstand and noticed the napkin with Tyson’s number on it. He keyed the password into his phone and entered Tyson’s number and name. It felt… pretty intense, to be fair. Especially intense for what was just adding a name and a number.

  After that, he stared at his phone for a long time. It would be seriously uncool to text the guy less than ten hours after they’d said good night, right? It would. Avery looked at his clock. It was barely nine. After the late night he’d had, he couldn’t believe he was awake. He decided to get up, get dressed, and go find himself some breakfast.