All I Ever Wanted

by Alexa Land

  “I still think I should pick them up earlier than we’d planned. They’ll probably sleep better in their own beds,” Vincent said. Trevor held up his phone and showed him a picture of two sleeping babies.

  I said, “So, the dad brigade has nothing to worry about. That’s good news, because it sounds like we all need to cut loose a bit.” I raised my cup and said, “Cheers, y’all.” After several years in California, I’d lost a lot of the Louisiana accent I’d grown up with, but that word had taken root in my speech like a kudzu vine. And man, was that a southern analogy, or what?

  A few minutes and a couple rounds later, music began to filter out of the cottage’s open door. I glanced up and saw Cole dancing with a guy with lavender hair. When he threw his head back and laughed, I was struck again by how beautiful he was. I could never figure out why he didn’t see it in himself. He used to say, “I’m nothing special, just a skinny guy with glasses.” He was so wrong.

  Cole pushed his hair back from his face with both hands. It fell to his shoulders in tightly coiled, caramel-and-brown spirals, a glorious byproduct of his half-African-American and half-Jewish ancestry, which had also given him his gorgeous, bronze skin tone. I found myself remembering a morning a very long time ago, when sunlight spilled through our bedroom window and picked out strands of gold in his curls as they cascaded across my pillow.

  Then I wanted to punch myself in the face, because that was not what I was supposed to be thinking about. I also most definitely was not supposed to be asking questions like, “Did anyone happen to notice if Cole came with Ash tonight?”

  Mike tossed back his fourth or fifth shot and asked, “Who’s Ash?”

  “That young, cute guy whose hair matches his shirt.”

  “The other young, cute guy whose hair matches his shirt,” Skye amended, indicating his blue T-shirt as he flashed me a smile.

  I shot him an exasperated look and said, “Yeah. The other guy, the one who’s not sitting here with us and is my brother.”

  Dare brushed his dark hair from his eyes and told me, “I think they did arrive together. But maybe the real question is, why are you asking?”

  Now it was my brother-in-law’s turn to be on the receiving end of my exasperated stare. It just made him grin, the same way my brother did, and I said, “I was just curious.”

  Trevor said, “If you don’t like seeing him with another man, maybe you should go inside and ask him to dance, and then invite him out for coffee. Who knows where it might lead?”

  “I know where it’d lead. I’ve been down that road. Way, way down it. In fact, I followed it all the way to the end. Cole and I tried, and we failed. It’s good he’s moved on,” I said, trying to sound like I believed that. “I have, too. In fact, tomorrow night, I have a date with a hot fireman.”

  Everyone was way too enthusiastic about that, and Skye asked, “When did that happen?”

  “I met him this afternoon at Nana’s house. She decided to play matchmaker.”

  “Sounds like she did a damn good job.”

  “It’s weird,” I said. “I haven’t been on a date in…actually, I can’t remember the last one.”

  Mike asked, “You and Cole didn’t date?”

  I shook my head. “It was lust at first sight. We met, went back to my place and had sex, and became inseparable from that point on. We didn’t even discuss moving in together. It just happened, as if it was this natural progression.” I thought about it and said, “Before Cole, I really didn’t date, either. I’d go out with a group of friends, meet some guy at a club, and hook up with him. Not that they were all one-night stands. Sometimes they turned into friends-with-benefits situations, until they eventually ran their course.”

  “I remember being surprised when you and Cole got together,” Skye said. “You were always this free spirit, and you never even thought about having a relationship. I guess that’s not surprising, given how you grew up.”

  “How did you grow up?” Mike asked.

  “I spent a big chunk of my childhood in a commune in north-central Louisiana,” I said. “Didn’t I ever tell you that?”

  Mike shook his head and asked Skye, “Did you grow up there, too?”

  “No. My parents split up when I was little, and my dad took me to Oregon,” Skye told him. “That’s where I grew up. Our mom moved to the commune shortly after that. I’d visit sometimes, in the summer. It was an interesting place. They lived totally off the grid with no electricity and a well for water, and they grew all their own food. It had a very 1960s vibe.”

  “I suddenly get why you two are named Skye and River,” Mike said.

  “Oh yeah, our mom was a total hippie. But we got off easy,” I said. “I literally grew up with kids named Starshine, Buttercup, and Clover. Those three were boys, by the way.”

  Skye said, “There was one other thing about life in that particular commune. I don’t know if they’re all like this, and I don’t want to generalize, but this place was very much into that whole free love thing. Only one of the couples was monogamous. The rest, including our mom, treated sex very casually. I always thought that was why River never sought out relationships before he met Cole, because it wasn’t what he’d been taught.”

  “People change, though. Even our mom’s in a long-term, monogamous relationship now,” I said.

  “You and Skye had different fathers, right?” When I nodded, Yoshi asked, “What’s your dad like, River?”

  “He’s mentally twenty-two and perpetually single. He and my mom weren’t even a couple when they had me. They just hooked up for a while, and then they both moved on.”

  Mike asked, “Do you ever hear from him?”

  “Yeah, we stay in touch. The thing about Kenny is, he’s always been more of a buddy than a dad, but we get along well. He lives in Portland now and visits once a year or so. We have a few beers and hang out, and then he goes back to his life and I go back to mine.” I actually missed him, but I wasn’t going to dwell on it and depress myself at a time when we were supposed to be celebrating. I got up and stretched, then said, “I’m going to go see if our hosts need anything.” As I headed back to the kitchen, I made a point of not watching Cole dance with that annoyingly cute, lavender-haired guy.

  Chapter Three

  “Um, who are you?”

  The naked guy in my kitchen wiped his hand on his thigh before sticking it out and saying, “Hey, I’m Javier. You must be Quinn’s roommate. Isn’t your name, like, Tree or Brook or something?”

  I shook his hand and said, “River.”

  “Right, right.” He was standing in front of my open refrigerator, and he picked up a bowl, peeled off the plastic lid, and sniffed the contents before grabbing some cold noodles with his fingers and lowering them into his mouth.

  I put my grocery sack on the counter and pocketed my keys as I asked, “Is Quinn in his room?”

  “No, man. He had to go to work.”

  Since I happened to know he had the day off, I was beginning to get the picture. “Okay, well, I have to go to work too, so I’m going to need you to find your pants and get going, alright?”

  “But you just got home.”

  “And now I have to go.”

  “Cool, man, cool.” He tilted his head back and ate another long tangle of noodles.

  “Now, Javier. I’m going to be late.”

  “Alright, alright.” He left the bowl on the counter and headed to Quinn’s bedroom, scratching his bare ass as he went.

  I jumped when a voice behind me whispered, “You’re so much better at that than I am.” I turned to look at my roommate, who was peering in the open kitchen window from the fire escape. “I spent all day trying to get him to leave, but he just wouldn’t take the hint. Finally, I told him I had to go to work. I got dressed and headed for the door and everything, but he still didn’t get it!”

  “So, you just left him alone in our apartment?”

  “Kind of, but not really. I could hear what he was doing from the fire e
scape.” I rolled my eyes at that.

  A few moments later, Quinn ducked out of sight as Javier wandered back into the kitchen, this time with clothes on, and asked, “Who were you talking to, man?”

  “The cat.”

  “I didn’t see a cat.”

  “He likes to hide.”

  “Aw man, I love cats! Where is he?”

  “I don’t know. He ran off when he heard you coming.”

  “Dude, that’s a bummer. What’s he look like?”

  I said, “He’s skinny and annoying, with white hair and black roots.”

  “That sounds like Quinn.”

  “Does it? Coincidence.”

  “What’s the cat’s name?”

  “Asshole.”

  “Aw, that’s not a nice thing to name your cat.”

  “No, but it fits, because he’s such an asshole.” I said that part loudly, so my roommate would overhear me.

  Javier’s gaze drifted back to the refrigerator as he said, “Maybe I should wait here for Quinn to get home. He’s a hottie. I totally scored with him last night.”

  “Did you? That’s so unlike him! Normally, my roommate is super virginal. I’m always like, Quinn, why do you spend every night at home reading the Bible? You should be out there partying and sleeping with all of San Francisco!” Javier stared at me blankly. My sarcasm was utterly lost on him. I scooped him up with an arm around his shoulders and ushered him to the door as I said, “Oh, look at the time! Take care, now. Buh bye.”

  “But—”

  I closed the door in his face and locked it for good measure. When I returned to the kitchen, I found Quinn sitting on the counter, eating my noodles with his fingers just like Javier had, and I said, “I don’t know why you got rid of that guy. You two were a match made in heaven.”

  “It’s baffling to me when guys don’t know to leave after a one-night stand. I mean, it’s like, late afternoon. What did he think, that because he banged me, we were now living together?”

  “You have truly outstanding taste in men.”

  “What? He was cute, and he didn’t come with a warning label that said ‘unable to take a hint’. He was great in the sack, too. Did you see his big cock?”

  “Yeah, unfortunately I did. Hey, is that my new shirt?” He was wearing a suspiciously familiar blue button-down with his jeans.

  “I had to borrow it, because I needed to sell the idea that I was going to a job. You know none of my wardrobe can convey that message.”

  “What about the T-shirt from your new day job at the burrito place?”

  He said, “Dude, I got fired and had to give the shirt back.”

  “Already?”

  “It was totally unfair.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Nothing! I got fired for following instructions. They told me I could eat anything from the menu on my lunch break, so I did. Apparently they were great big liars, though.”

  “They probably meant any one item.”

  “Then they should have said that!”

  “Most people would have known without being told.”

  “But I’m not most people.”

  He had a point there. “How many burritos did you eat, Quinn?”

  “Nine. That’s perfectly reasonable!”

  “Not even if you were a family of four! Now give me my shirt back.” I stuck my hand out, and Quinn sighed and put the bowl on the counter.

  As he unbuttoned the shirt, he said, “If you don’t want me to borrow your stuff, don’t leave it out.”

  “It was in the laundry hamper on top of the washer. That’s not ‘leaving it out’.”

  He removed the shirt, revealing his pierced nipples, and handed it over as he asked, “Do you think I should call Javier and ask him out?”

  “What are you, nuts?”

  “He really was good in bed.”

  “He also agreed you were annoying,” I said. “Plus, he’s a total squatter. Run, Forest. Run.”

  “When did he agree I was annoying?”

  “When I was describing my fictitious cat. I said it was annoying and he said it sounded like you.”

  “I’m not annoying.”

  “You wear my clothes, eat my food, and bring a constant parade of strangers through our apartment. Explain to me how that’s not annoying.”

  Quinn crossed his arms over his chest. “It is not a constant parade.”

  “Hey, I’m not judging. I really don’t care if you’ve gone down on everything but the Titanic.”

  He said, “That sounds suspiciously like judging.”

  I sighed and returned my shirt to the little laundry closet off the kitchen, then got busy ignoring my roommate and trying to make a few appetizers. He watched me like a TV show for a while before saying, “Whatcha making?”

  “Food.”

  “Can I have some?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t like you.”

  “Yes you do.” Quinn hopped off the counter. At five-foot-nine, he was just three inches shorter than me, but he pulled me down much farther than was necessary so he could kiss my cheek. “I know you’re just cranky because you never, ever get laid.”

  “By choice.”

  “Keep telling yourself that.” After a pause, he said, “You really do like me, don’t you?”

  “Yes, Quinn, I like you. Now please go far, far away.”

  “No can do.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m hungry, and what you’re making looks good.”

  I frowned at him and said, “If I feed you, will you go away?”

  “Who goes away when someone feeds them? It’s counterintuitive. It’s like feeding a stray cat because you want to get rid of it.”

  I thrust the bowl of leftover pasta into his hands and said, “If you’re hungry, eat this.”

  He set the bowl aside and eyed the groceries on the counter. “What you’re making looks better than these old noodles.”

  I grabbed one of the handmade tortillas from the counter, threw it like a Frisbee, and said, “There. Now go away.”

  He looked through the open doorway and said, “Okay, first of all, I’m not a dog and I don’t fetch. Second, that was an awesome throw. It landed on the couch.” He stared at me for a moment, then fetched the tortilla anyway and returned to the kitchen eating it. When he saw me using a small, round cookie cutter to cut up another tortilla, he exclaimed, “You’re making tiny tacos! I love tiny tacos! You’re the king of tiny food. Please, please, please can I have some?”

  “I have a date tonight, Quinn. He’s going to be here in less than an hour. Can I please, please, please just cook this food in peace?”

  “A date? What, like a date date?”

  “Yes.”

  “With who?”

  “No one you know. Probably.” I thought about that, then asked, “Have you slept with any firefighters named Dylan?”

  “I dunno. Maybe. I’m not so good with names. Do you have a picture of his junk?”

  “Because that you’d recognize?”

  “It’s entirely possible.”

  “Why would I have a picture of his junk?”

  “Because you met him online and junk happens?”

  “I didn’t meet him online.”

  “Take a picture of his junk later and text it to me, then I’ll tell you if I slept with him.”

  I said, “I can only hope that means you won’t be here when he arrives. Oh, and also, hell no.”

  “I’m planning to leave before he gets here, so you two can have some privacy. This is your first date since we’ve been roommates! I’m not going to fuck that up for you.”

  “Well, thank you. Where are you going to go, though? It’s too early for the clubs.”

  “I think I’ll go see what Skye and Dare are up to. If they’re busy, I’ll just practice in the studio.”

  Quinn was my brother-in-law’s fault. Dare had formed an LGBT-centered ballet company
, and Quinn was one of his dancers. When Cole moved out and I mentioned I needed a roommate, Dare had sent the bleached blond menace my way.

  It still surprised me that my man-child roommate had ever been disciplined enough to become a classically trained ballet dancer, but that was exactly what he was. Dancing was literally the one thing in life he took seriously. Less surprising was the fact that Quinn made a living as a go-go boy. He was a total club kid, and since he spent most nights dancing until dawn anyway, it was good that he occasionally got paid for it.

  Quinn had my brother-in-law to thank for the job, too. It was at the same club where Dare and Skye had met, back when they were both moonlighting as go-go dancers. Dare had a tendency to take all the dancers in his troupe under his wing, and Quinn needed more help than most.

  When my roommate turned his big, blue eyes on me and attempted a puppy-dog look, he reminded me just a little of my brother Skye. Maybe that was why Dare had a soft spot for him, too. “Can I please have some of what you’re making? It looks so good!” He put his hands up like paws and made a whining sound.

  I sighed and said, “Fine. I’m trying out a new recipe, so you can be my guinea pig. But I have a list of demands. First of all, don’t try to help me cook.”

  “I promise to be totally unhelpful.”

  “Not quite what I said, but sure. Next, promise to be out of here well before Dylan arrives.”

  “Done! If I’m accidentally still here when he knocks on the door, I’ll go out the fire escape. What else?”

  “Only eat what I give you. I don’t want to turn around and find an entire coconut cream pie sticking out of your gaping maw.”

  “You’re making a pie? You must really like this guy to go through all that trouble.”

  “I bought a mini pie for two at the bakery. For two. So, mitts off the dessert.”

  “Fine. Anything else?”