“Ridiculously overprotective?”
“Yeah, he really is.” I admitted. “I’ve basically known Julian my whole life. He’s my family, my best friend, my partner. I guess he’s kind of my everything. And I think you two would actually really like each other.”
“Yeah?” He took a sharp breath in, choked on it a little and coughed. Then she shook his head and looked at the floor, his face turning red from a swell of emotion it looked like he was trying to suppress.
I wished Dominic was here, he’d know what to do. I tried to imagine what Dominic would do if he were here, he’d probably say something supportive or give him a big hug maybe. “Hey,” I tried to sound reassuring. “What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing. Nothing,” Ryan tried to shake it off.
“Okay.” I acknowledged the need to just let whatever it was drop. He didn’t have to talk to me if he didn’t want to. “But hey, Fake-Boyfriend,” I reached for his hand but then awkwardly changed my mind at the last minute and set my hand on his arm. “I’m sort of not great with this kind of stuff, but I’m here if you need me, okay?”
Ryan looked at my hand on his arms then cracked a smile. “You called me your Fake-Boyfriend. Not your soon-to-be fake-boyfriend. Does this mean we’re officially fake dating?”
I shrugged. “I thought we were gonna wait.”
“I don’t want to wait.” Ryan slipped his arm around my middle and pulled me tight against him.
“Ryan, I need a shower.”
“Okay,” he leaned in and kissed me.
Somehow I had this idea that it wouldn’t be the same as it was before — like it would be less amazing. It totally wasn’t. His tongue grazed my lips wanting more, he took a breath and deepened the kiss. “Shit you’re a good kisser,” I said.
Ryan laughed. “Better than Ridiculously Overprotective?”
“Uhm, I don’t know, maybe. Could be a tie. I’m so used to kissing Julian,” I shrugged and stopped talking. I had no idea where I was even going with that statement. I was just babbling at that point.
“What about Weedon? Tell me I kiss better than a guy who called kissing you a party foul.”
“Uhm, yeah… no. I thought I was going to die when he kissed me.”
Ryan smiled, showing his dimples. “Wait, so does that make him the better kisser or immeasurably worse?”
I frowned. “It was fucking magical, Ryan.”
Ryan sighed, but he was smiling, I think maybe he felt sorry for me, but I didn’t care. I felt a little sorry for myself too, at the moment. “Let’s go out.” Ryan freed his phone from his back pocket. “You shower, I’ll pick a place.”
For whatever reason, probably something to do with Ryan being a really good kisser, I didn’t just take a ‘five minute rinse’ shower at AIM and decided to shower next door at Julian’s where I could also grab a fresh outfit, more suitable for going out than the jeans and sweater I’d been wearing. I could also put on some make up and just generally make myself feel all girly again.
“Where’s your friend?” Julian asked, leaning against the doorway to the bathroom.
I shrugged. “If he’s not in the back hall, he’s probably waiting in my car. We’re going out.”
Julian rubbed his fingers across his forehead and sighed, frustrated, disappointed, probably both.
“It’s not what you think, Jules. We’re just friends.”
“You put lipgloss on for ‘just friends’ now?”
I rolled my eyes at him. “No. I put lipgloss on for me. Don’t be a misogynist, Jules.” I left the mirror in the bathroom and went to rifle through the closet in the second bedroom where Julian keeps all the girly things — stuff I’ve left, stuff he’s designed.
Julian followed. “And now I know you’re up to no good.”
“Fine.” I pulled a nearly identical sweater to the one I’d been wearing out of the closet. “We’re fake dating. I mean kind of. We’re friends and stuff, so it’s not all bullshit, it’s just mostly bullshit, right in line with his attraction for the ladies.” I put the sweater back and reached for a glittery number further in, it was a dress — instant no.
Julian squinted at me. “You’re this guy’s beard!?” he sounded somewhere between amused and mad as hell.
I half shrugged and nodded.
“Okay, well it goes without saying I disapprove, but I’m going to say it anyway. I don’t approve, Katarina. You’re better than this.”
I gasped. “Now you’re being a misandrist?”
“I don’t like bullshit. This guy used you before and now he’s using you again.”
“And I’m using him too.”
“Was that comment supposed to make things seem better? Because it didn’t. It actually had the opposite effect. Two wrongs, just makes two wrongs, Darling.”
“I know, but it’s not like that, Jules, I promise. We’re just friends, helping each other out. I’m helping him hide the fact that he’s not straight from his homophobic, A-hole parents, and he’s sort of helping me get over Dominic, or at least provide a nice, cute, good-kissing distraction.”
“Does he know Dominic?”
“Uhm, yeah, they’re basically like best friends.”
“Wow. Does he know about Dominic?”
“Yeah.”
“I feel like I need a flow chart,” Julian sighed. “Ugh, Katarina,” Julian pulled me away from the closet and wrapped me in a hug. “I don’t think you’ll ever understand how much I care for you, how much I worry about you.” He kissed the top of my head.
“Of course I understand, Jules.” I gripped his shirt in my hands and hugged him tight. “I feel the same way about you. Except I don’t worry as much because you’re basically perfect and never mess anything up.”
Julian chuckled. “Oh good, my ruse is working.” He kissed my head again and pulled back to look at me. “I’m not perfect, Kat. I’m just… careful. I want you to have a life full of experiences, but I don’t want to see you get hurt — especially if the pain can be avoided.”
“I know. Just like I know you’ll be there for me with hugs and bandaids if it all falls down, just like always. I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost you, Jules. Oh no!” I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him tight. “Never leave me Jules! I know you can’t promise you won’t get hit by a bus tomorrow or anything , but please don’t! Please stay with me forever.”
“That’s always been my plan, Darling. From the moment we met. I’m sure you don’t remember, but you were crying. I said ‘Hello’ and offered you my hand. You gripped my fingers so tight and looked up at me, and you stopped crying, and you smiled at me, and that was it. From that moment on I was hopelessly and eternally in love with you. Nothing will ever change that.”
I’d heard the story enough times that even though I knew I couldn’t really remember it, I felt like I did, and I knew — I loosened my death grip from Julian and took his hands in mine. “That was the moment I fell forever in love with you too, Jules.”
Julian smothered me with a couple dozen kisses then abandoned me for the closet. I used the moment to wipe at the wet lingering near my eyes. He returned a few seconds later holding a fun frilly top and a pair of coordinating booties. Flats, of course, but they were super cute. “Early birthday present,” he explained. “Go have fun, look fabulous, live life, kiss boys, blah blah blah.”
I’d given Ryan my keys so he had the option of waiting in the car, I found him in the driver’s seat listening to music. “That’s not what you were wearing earlier,” he said, then added, “Is it cool if I drive?”
“Yeah, where we going?”
“You’ll like it,” was all he said.
The place we went to is called Skye’s Cafe. It’s on the top floor and roof of a building downtown. The views are kind of amazing. In the summer they have outdoor roof-top seating. In the winter they have roof-top fireplaces that a few hard-core winter wonderlanders were (literally) chilling near.
“Welcome back, Mr. Mat
hers,” the host gave him a nod, Trevin, according to his name tag. “Will you be sitting at the bar this evening or would you care for a seat in one of the overlooks?”
Ryan looked to me, “Overlooks is what made me think of this place. You’re not afraid of heights are you?”
“Of course, we have several tables available that aren’t next to windows,” Trevin added.
“Not afraid of heights,” I informed.
Ryan flashed his dimples. “Overlook it is.”
The view from our table was basically the entire valley. And it was beautiful. The table, which was also made of glass, sat right up against the window and our seats were next to each other, facing the window. It was kind of cool and kind of weird sitting at the edge of a towering building, looking out at the city, with only a sheet of glass between us. I’ve never had a fear of heights, but it was still a little freaky to think about. “Last time I had a view like this I think I was strapped into a roller coaster.”
“That sounds awesome. Where is this magical place?”
“Vegas,” I answered.
Ryan sighed. “I’ve never been, my parent’s call it the Devil’s playground.”
“Are they religious?”
“Only when it serves them.”
“Have they ever been there?”
“Doubt it,” he shrugged.
“It’s usually just work for me but when we’ve got the time we always try and go out and take in some of the city, the attractions, the lights.” My gaze fell on the expanse of lights on display before us — nowhere near as fancy as Vegas, but still pretty. “What do you think it is about lights we, as people, find so amazing?”
“Huh…” Ryan considered, taking in the view. “Hope?” he asked as if I knew the answer.
“Hope?” I returned his query.
“The dark is… lonely, isolating. Scary even. Light makes it less so, the more lights the more connected, and safe we feel — just a theory,” he added.
“I like that theory.”
I opened the menu and the first thing that caught my eye was a Pear Salad, it was $48 for the small salad, $78 for a larger version. A little further down the menu was a Bleu Bacon Burger with frites $128. I skimmed down to drinks the cheapest item was Cucumber Water for $8. I put the menu down and leaned close to Ryan and whispered, “Ryan, this place is stupid expensive.”
He laughed. “Yes it is.” He put his menu down next to mine, and shifted toward me. “It’s actually why I like coming here,” he said just above a whisper.
“You’re going to have to help me understand that one,” I said, shaking my head.
Ryan bit his lip. “I…” he started, then stopped and took a look around as if to make sure no one was listening in. “I’m embezzling money from my parents.”
My brain short circuited for a second or seven as it raced into overdrive. “I have so many questions,” I managed. I reached toward him, my hand near his knee but then I pulled it back, balled it into a fist and set it on my own leg.
“You’re the only other person who knows,” he said.
“That wasn’t one of my questions.”
Ryan opened his menu and held it between us. “I don’t really have an allowance, but I have a credit card I can use for whatever. My parents don’t like cash, don’t like it when I use cash — well, actually, it’s more like have cash — so I can’t really keep it around. But they get that some people prefer cash, like people who make tips. So, I get change for the tip — and I tip really well — but it’s usually only about half what I got in change. The more expensive the restaurant, the more money I can get.” He took a breath and let it out again. “It’s not a perfect system.”
“Okay, that did answer one of my questions, but not the biggest. That would be — why!?”
“I gotta get away. I can’t keep who I am hidden forever. I can hope I make it through college before they find out and cut me off, but I hate the show, I hate the lie. I see how Dominic works his ass off, I don’t want that life — I don’t want to struggle just to get by. I’ve been trying to build myself a cushion so if — or when — it happens, I can afford to get an apartment someplace and I won’t be forced to beg one of my friends to let me sleep on their couch or whatever.”
“Have you thought about just opening up a savings account?”
“Yeah. I even thought my parents would be down with that, like they’d think it was responsible? Nope. My mom laughed and said, ‘You don’t need a savings account,’” Ryan’s voice pitched as he imitated his mother. “‘You’re a child,’” he mimicked her condescending laugh. “‘And, your parents are rich.’”
“That’s messed up.”
“Yeah.” Ryan scowled. “Let’s order.” He waved toward one of the wait staff who hurried over with a broad smile.
“How are you this evening, Mr. Mathers?”
“I’m well, thanks.” Ryan gave the waiter, who according to his name tag was also called Ryan, a polite smile.
“Miss,” Waiter Ryan gave me a nod.
“This is my dear friend, and renowned artist, choreographer, and performer, Ms. Katarina Franks,” Ryan informed. And yeah, it sounded just about as hoity-toity as the ridiculous menu prices.
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance Ms. Franks.”
If there’s a right way to respond in a situation like this, I have no idea what it is. I went with, “You too.”
Waiter Ryan responded with, “Aww, thank you.” No idea why.
Ryan set about ordering more food than either of us could eat, before asking me if there was anything I wanted to add to what was basically everything on the menu.
“Will all that even fit on the table?” I asked.
Ryan nodded as Waiter Ryan said, “We’ll bring an extension.”
“Oh, I see, so you’ve done this before?”
Both Ryan’s answered in the affirmative this time, and waiter Ryan asked what I would like to drink.
“I think we’ll both have waters,” Ryan answered for me.
“Yes,” I agreed.
“Cucumber, Lemon, or Pure?” Waiter Ryan asked.
“This is her first time here, let’s do one of each so she’ll know for next time. And I’ll do the same.”
“You got it, Boss.” Waiter Ryan said as he picked up menus and hurried away.
“That’s a lot of food you just ordered, Ryan. A lot of ridiculously expensive food, ridiculously expensive water too.”
Ryan shrugged. “Nothing is too good for my girl.”
I rolled my eyes and shook my head at him. “What even is Pure Water?”
“It’s just water.”
“Not that I’m trying to encourage your crimes, but have you given any thought to laundering? Seems like it could make your financial acquisitions a little more cost effective.”
“I’m listening,” Ryan leaned in.
“Well, for instance, you open an account in some made up name, or made up business name, and then you use a service they offer, like a personal trainer or therapist or whatever, and have your parents pay for it. It’d be a predictable reoccurring expense, you could probably even set up some kind of auto-pay.”
“I could probably sell my parents on a personal trainer, but probably not a therapist,” Ryan frowned.
“What if you told them you were having a hard time trusting girls after what Alexa did, and you didn’t want to start hating all girls or something.”
“Hmm” He considered for a moment. “That’s fucked up enough it could just work.”
Waiter Ryan delivered our drinks and starters. There was something comical to me in the display set before me. Each glass of water held a large round chunk of ice, one with a chunk of lemon frozen inside, another with a chunk of cucumber slice at its center and the third one plain ice. Our starters came on a round plate that held ornately cut fruit, a triangular plate that held fancy cheese, meats with names, and crackers, and a square plate that held four tortilla chips, stacked neatly with meat,
melted cheese, tomato, onion and spices.
“Is everything to your liking?” Waiter Ryan asked.
I was waiting for Ryan to respond and then I realized they were both looking at me, waiting for me to answer. I laughed. Couldn’t stop myself. “It’s lovely,” I managed. “I’m sorry,” I desperately tried to push down the laugh. “It’s lovely.” The second attempt came out only slightly more serious sounding than the first.
“She always laughs when she’s happy,” Ryan winked at waiter Ryan. And it wasn’t a casual wink by any stretch — it was a ‘you know what I mean, when she’s ‘happy’ wink wink, nudge nudge’ kind of winks.
I stopped smiling and gasped at Ryan.
“Very good,” Waiter Ryan mumbled and hurried away.
Ryan chuckled and popped a nacho in his mouth.
“I had no idea you were such a scoundrel,” I said.
Ryan tossed his head back in a laugh. “Scoundrel? Did you seriously just call me a scoundrel? I didn’t even know anyone still used that word. I think I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
“Typical scoundrel,” I sighed.
Ryan’s dimples deepened, bringing his smile to his eyes. “You should really try one of these $22 each nachos.”
I tried one, it was good. Not ‘this bite cost $22 good’ but I can’t actually imagine anything being that tasty. Dominic’s kisses maybe. Hell, I’d happily shell out heaps more than that for another few moments in his arms. Which is kind of pathetic really considering I’d literally been kissed dozens of times already that day, by more than one really hot guy, and there was probably more to come given Ryan’s demeanor, and they were good kisses too — but they weren’t… Dominic’s. And when I thought about it, and I did, way more often than I’d like to, or at least more often than I’d like to admit to, there was this ache that would form, deep in the center of my chest that felt both hollow and profound. Worse, I longed for the feeling as much as I hated feeling it.
Just about everything about our dinner together made me so grateful that Ryan had been a jerk when I’d asked him if he wanted to go out before, because Ryan is amazing, and if he were into it, it would have been really easy to fall for him, probably even against my will. But I knew the whole story now, and that meant he’d never be more than a really good friend, who kissed me sometimes.
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