The Brooklyn Book Boyfriends

by Kayley Loring

  “That doesn’t surprise me. If I didn’t grow up in Brooklyn, I’d probably move here too. Did you like living in Indiana?”

  “I love Bloomington.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. It’s the perfect-sized town, I think.”

  “Why’d you move?”

  She sighs, shrugging her shoulders. “When you’ve been in love in a small town and the person you thought you’d be with there for the rest of your life leaves without you, it’s pretty hard to see every place you ever went to with him every single day. I stuck it out for a couple of years because I was too depressed to go anywhere else, but…I needed a change of scenery.”

  “Well you got one.”

  “I sure did.”

  I hate that some kid got to love this girl and then broke her heart so many years before I met her. I don’t know what I’ll have to say or do to get her to feel whatever it is she felt back then when she wasn’t afraid of this kind of thing. But this summer I’m going to try everything. Even when it scares me.

  I guess I was feeling insecure about the fact that she’s been in love before and I haven’t. But there are a lot of things that I’ve done that she hasn’t, so maybe that balances the scales somehow. I don’t know for sure what falling in love feels like. I just know that I’m starting to feel like the center of my universe is shifting in a way that it hasn’t before. With someone who isn’t family, anyway.

  I ask her why she decided to move to Brooklyn, and I know the answer as soon as she blushes and covers her mouth, shaking her head as she laughs.

  “It’s silly,” she mutters.

  “Tell me.”

  “Because of the HBO show Girls.”

  So many young women have moved here because of that show. I’m not complaining. It’s not what I would have guessed for Nina, but it’s not disappointing either. Usually these girls live in Williamsburg or Greenpoint and work at some hipster coffee place. That she ended up in Carroll Gardens teaching first grade and dating an older principal while wondering what it would be like to be Lena Dunham just makes her uniquely adorable and awesome.

  There’s something about this woman that makes me feel like a boy who needs to dance around to impress her and like a man who wants to take care of her, at the same time. If I told Dr. Glass this, she’d probably shit herself. Not because it’s a good way to feel but because it’s too soon for this feeling to be real. She’d just tell me to wait until I’m really ready.

  Fuck that.

  What’s wrong with now?

  Now is all we have.

  Shouldn’t that be the big lesson when you lose someone you love?

  Maybe I’ve already waited twenty-eight years for this.

  I can’t say that I was looking for it, and maybe I was trying to avoid it, but I know I’ve found something in Nina.

  My shrink might not approve, but ultimately, she’s supposed to help me feel good. And I do. She’s supposed to help me build the life that I want. And I’m doing that right now.

  I know what lust feels like. There’s something here on top of that. Or beneath it, or entwined with it. It’s not about closing a deal with this woman. It’s about opening things up and making something big and beautiful.

  Speaking of making something big and beautiful—she turns me around so that I’m leaning back against the railing. And then she’s pressed up against my chest, looking past me at the view, while her hand slowly reaches down the front of my sweatpants.

  I remember the first time I viewed the loft and came up to this roof deck, saw the view, and it took my breath away and I instantly knew:

  Mine. I have to have this.

  But that was nothing compared to the view of Nina’s sweet face as she’s gently stroking me and the feeling I have of wanting this.

  Mine.

  14

  Vince

  As if I needed another sign that life as I know it has changed forever, the moment that really crystallizes things for me is when I’m on the F train, on my way home from a dinner meeting before picking Nina up for the party. The guy next to me is listening to his music so loud that I can hear every word of a-ha’s “Take On Me” from his earbuds. And I keep thinking That’s exactly how I feel. That’s how I’ve been feeling about Nina.

  Except the “I’ll be gone” part. But the other stuff—at least the lines I can understand. It really is no better to be safe than sorry. But I do want her to feel safe with me. I don’t want her to be sorry she kept seeing me. We keep talking away and she keeps shying away, but I’ll be coming for her anyway and I’m slowly learning that life is okay.

  Fuck me.

  This is pathetic.

  If my brother knew what was going on in my head right now, he’d sucker-punch those pretty boy Norwegian eighties synth-pop thoughts right out of me. Or maybe one look at Nina and he’ll wonder why it took me more than two seconds to decide to pursue her.

  I keep thinking about how Mom would have loved her. And the fact that she uses the same dish soap and listens to Joni Mitchell. I’m not saying this is something Freudian or anything. It’s just a coincidence. Or a sign. I’m pretty sure I’m not trying to make too big a deal out of it, but it’s definitely doing something to my head. It makes me confused about how long I’ve known Nina. Time feels more elastic.

  Or maybe I shouldn’t have had two glasses of Scotch with dinner.

  When our mouths and tongues finally pull apart, she licks her lips and says, “Mmmm. Scotch?”

  “Very good.” I’ve been giving Nina a crash course in alcohol identification, mostly based on whatever taste is lingering on my tongue. Not that I drink all that often. So far, I’ve had her try shots of tequila, vodka, and whiskey at my place. And I mixed her up an Orgasm Cocktail after we finally came down from my roof deck. That was a great fucking night. I had Scotch after dinner last night too, before meeting up with her. She’s a fast learner.

  “Am I dressed okay for the party?” she asks, as if that’s even a valid question. “My friend Marnie made me wear this.”

  “Your friend Marnie is a genius.” She’s wearing tight jeans, spiky heels, a loose shimmery silver tank top, and hoop earrings. She’s got on eyeliner or something tonight. It changes her face. Makes her look like a supermodel, but the kind you’d actually want to talk to. “Darlin’, you are dressed more than okay. As long as you’re okay with my hand up that top all night. You look stunning.”

  “I just wasn’t sure if—I mean, I’ll be meeting your family and co-workers, right? I don’t want to look too…”

  “Hot? You literally couldn’t look less hot if you tried.”

  She furrows her brow at me.

  “Wait. That came out wrong. You couldn’t look more hot if you tried. You always look hot—there.”

  “Exactly how much Scotch did you have today?”

  “I’m just drunk on your beauty, baby.”

  I hold the door to the Uber car open and get back in with her. I can see the driver’s eyes bulge out of their sockets when he checks her out.

  “Eyes on the road, buddy,” I say as he pulls away from the curb in front of her building.

  “Hi, how are you?” she says to the driver. Because she’s friendly.

  “Hey, how’s it going,” the driver replies. I can tell he’s trying so hard to not sound flirtatious. And it pisses me off.

  I lay another long kiss on Nina until she has to pull away to catch her breath. She clears her throat and looks out the window, smiling. I put my hand on her thigh, and I’m not going to let go of her all night.

  I start laughing all of a sudden—remembering that she actually thought I was too cool to be seen in public with her. She looks back over at me quizzically. I can tell she thinks I’m drunk, but it really is just her effect on me. She might be too hot for me to be able to handle navigating her and the public at the same time. That has never been an issue for me before now.

  I’ve dated nothing but hot women, but I’ve never felt so protective of one b
efore. With Sadie it was because I was giving up my freedom to be with her, so I didn’t want anyone else touching her or ogling her. With Nina, I just want her for myself. I’ve seen the nightlife. I’ve been a part of it since high school. I know what’s up out there. I want to stay in and listen to her talk about chapter books and watch her face while I make her come. I’m not ready to share her yet. But I’ll have to.

  The cocktail bar that Eve and I chose for her birthday party is a cool place in Williamsburg, with a big private room. Eve doesn’t know it yet, but my dad and brother and I are paying for everything tonight.

  I lead Nina through the candle and Edison bulb–lit front room lounge, toward the back. I don’t know the bartender who’s working tonight, but I give him a nod. I see him checking out my girl. Can’t blame him, but I give him a warning look. Fucking bartenders. I should know.

  “I like the vibe here,” she says. Like it’s the first time she’s ever said the word “vibe” in her life.

  “Yeah, I know the guy who owns this place. We found another location for him in Red Hook. He’s doing a whiskey bar over there.”

  “What should I drink tonight?” she asks, her face lighting up. “Wanna know what kind of mood I’m in?”

  I stop and turn to face her. “I know exactly what I’m gonna make you—to put you in the mood I want you in.”

  “If it’s another Orgasm, you’ll have to work up to that.”

  “Hey, do I look like an amateur? First, I make you a French Kiss—but only if they have lavender bitters here, which they might not. Then you get a Hanky Panky, and then you get your Orgasm.”

  “Why, Mr. Devlin. I will remind you that I am a lightweight. You’d better choose one and choose wisely.”

  “I have chosen one,” I say, kissing her on the cheek. For the first time ever, I’m confident that I’ve chosen wisely. I put my arm around her shoulder and open the door to the back room.

  The amber up-lighting, chandeliers, exposed brick walls, leather seating, and deep red velvet curtains create a cozy, sexy vibe. But right now the room is packed and warm and thumping. I didn’t realize we were so late to the party. The DJ is playing 50 Cent’s “In Da Club,” and everyone in here is going nuts. The whole room is a dance floor. I can see Eve in the middle of the room, dancing with her wife and pointing to herself, yelling “It’s my birthday!”

  Even our uptight lawyer is shaking his arms and attempting a heel-toe step. I guide Nina through the crowd a few feet and then turn to face her. My hands slide down to her hips. I position my leg between hers and try to ignore how surprised she seems to be that I’m actually dancing. Like what—does she think I’m too cool to dance? I grab her ass and pull her as close as possible to me, my thigh right up in there between her legs. In that place where I could live for days. It only takes a second for her hips to start swaying back and forth, her arms up in the air, head nodding to the beat like everyone else in here.

  She moves her shoulders and ribs in a way that is very impressive, and I can’t stop from sliding my hands up under her tank top. I did warn her this would happen. She smirks—so hot—puts her hands over mine, and slides them back down to her ass. I’ll take it. I’ll take all of it. I kiss her, and within seconds, we’re making out so hot and heavy. We’re pressed up against each other, and everyone else is so into doing their own thing, I don’t even care that my whole sales team is in here somewhere.

  She finally pulls away from me and runs her hands through her hair while mouthing the words to the song at me—twist! I guess the youngsters in Bloomington listen to hip-hop too.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Eve making her way over to us, holding her giant margarita glass up over people’s heads. She’s staring at Nina with her face all scrunched up like she’s scrutinizing her. “Go shorty,” I yell out along with the song, “it’s your birthday!” But she stops right next to Nina and yells out: “Miss Parks?”

  Nina freezes, stares at Eve. Her eyes widen and she says, “Tyler’s mom! Hi!”

  “Oh my God! Hi!” Eve looks at me, pointing crazily between herself and Nina. “We know each other! She taught my son last year! Holy fuck!” She slaps my shoulder. “Hah!”

  Nina has slowly let go of me and stepped back, straightening up her clothes.

  Eve takes a huge slug of her margarita and then almost spits it out and yells out at Nina, “I don’t usually drink like this—I swear!”

  “I don’t usually dance like this—I swear!”

  “Oh my God, I almost didn’t recognize you with the makeup and the earrings and the Vince—but oh my God! It’s Miss Parks!”

  “Happy birthday! You must be having so much fun!” Nina shouts, trying to change the subject.

  I should be more surprised that my business partner already knows Nina, but my brain is too busy picturing “Miss Parks” in a buttoned-down blouse, tight skirt, and spiky heels, holding up a ruler and telling me to stay after school because I’ve been a very bad boy.

  I have to physically shake my head to rid myself of that image.

  I can’t believe it didn’t occur to me that Eve would actually know Nina. Eve hardly ever brings her son around to the office or talks about him because she’s always talking about “separation of church and state.” I think she just doesn’t want all us guys thinking of her as a mom first and foremost. As if we thought of her as anything other than a kickass broker who’s a cool lesbian with a hot wife.

  But it makes me strangely happy to know that Eve and Nina knew each other before Nina knew me. It’s another social connection beyond our lying, cheating exes.

  It may take a while for Nina to see this as a strangely happy connection, though. I can tell she’s horrified that one of her student’s parents has seen us grinding away on each other.

  Eve yells out that she’ll talk to us later and wades through the crowd to talk to one of our clients. I look around, not seeing my dad or Gabe. I yell into Nina’s ear, “You want that drink now?”

  She just shrugs her shoulders. “I guess?” She shakes her head and covers her face.

  “Hey. What?”

  “It’s Tyler’s mom!”

  “It’s awesome!”

  She shakes her head. “It’s humiliating.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Come here.” I pull her back out the doors to the front room, where it’s not as loud. “Have you never run into someone from your school when you were out in public before?”

  “Not while I had my tongue down a guy’s throat and was rubbing up on him!”

  Oh my God, you are so cute. “We were dancing! Everyone’s dancing. You think I haven’t seen Eve with her tongue halfway down her wife’s throat?”

  She paces around, shaking her hands like they’re wet. “That’s not the same thing.”

  “Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?”

  “No! God, no. This is just so different from how I usually am.”

  “Hey.” I put my hands on either side of her face. “You’re not in class right now. It’s your summer break. It’s not like you’re shooting a porno. Or heroin. You’re allowed to be a complex adult human being. Just because you teach little kids that doesn’t mean you have to live like one your whole life.”

  She looks up at me like I just said something brilliant. When she kisses me, I do feel brilliant. I feel everything.

  “Okay,” she agrees with a nod. “Is your family here?”

  “I didn’t see them, but it’s possible.”

  “Well, maybe don’t hump my leg while they’re around.”

  “I make no promises. And I’m pretty sure you were humping my leg.”

  Her hand goes to her face when she laughs like a girl, and God I love it when she does that.

  I open the door to the back room again. Thankfully the song that’s now playing is some cheesy Beyoncé ballad that we don’t have to dance to—and you could not pay me enough to dance to this song. Ever.

  “Oh, I lov
e this song!” she exclaims, turning to me. Her eyes are all lit up. “Can we slow-dance to this?!”

  “Okay!”

  Fuck.

  I am in so much trouble.

  15

  Nina

  “So, you’re the reason he’s been smiling lately.” Tyler’s mom appears next to me as I stand by the bar, waiting for Vince to return from the restroom. Her curly hair looks adorably insane, and she looks like a very happy birthday girl.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Why—does he not usually?”

  “Hah! Mr. Seriously Sexy? I don’t think so.” She smacks my arm with the back of her hand. “I can’t believe it’s you!”

  “How’s Tyler?”

  “He’s great! He’s with his sperm donor dad for the week. He really loved you as a teacher,” she gushes with her hand to her heart. “You completely opened him up. Where’s that wife of mine? I told her you were here—she flipped out. We’re always talking about how you turned things around for Ty.”

  “I appreciate you saying that, but he probably would have started to open up anyway as he got older.”

  “No. It was you. Let’s hope you can work the same magic on our boy Vince. Turn his life around. Wouldn’t that be nice.”

  I smile. “Actually, I think it’s safe to say that he’s the one who’s turning my life around.”

  “I’m sure, but still.” She waves her hand. “Thank God Sadie’s gone. Blech. He was always in such a bad mood when he was with her those last few months.” She shudders.

  Someone comes up behind Eve and hugs her. She looks back to see who it is and screams, thus ending our conversation. I wish we could have talked longer. I would have liked to hear more about how miserable Vince was with Sadie.

  I hear Vince call my name, and I turn to see him standing with two other men and a lady. They are all staring at me when Vince waves me over.

  The older man looks like a heavyset present-day Alec Baldwin, and the younger man looks like a bigger, more angular version of Vince. The middle-aged woman standing in between them looks unequivocally thrilled to be near them, and I can see why. The Devlins all have the cool-sexy-handsome gene. God help us.