Paul ruffled Jimmy’s dark hair. “What about Tom the head waiter at your work? You two seemed to have something, no?”
No, Tom didn’t want to be with him. He’d told him last week.
Jimmy forced a smile. “Let’s dance. Let’s show these kids how it’s done.”
Paul threw his head back and laughed, but wouldn’t move. “Get me two more shots first.”
“Sure? All right then.” Jimmy left Paul standing at the bar and headed back to the shooter counter near the stairs. People were piled up there, waiting to be served. It would be a while. He stood behind a group of excited girls, hoping to get the bartender’s attention before the last call. It was two in the morning. Trying to forget about the pain in his throat, Jimmy ran a hand through his hair and ordered himself to relax.
Fake it ‘til you feel it.
“I don’t think they put any real booze in these shots,” a man said in a bright voice and close to Jimmy’s ear. “I had, like, fifteen of these and I’m still sober.”
When Jimmy looked over and caught sight of the young man who’d just spoken to him, his stomach tightened a bit. What a sincere smile this guy had. And such beautiful brown eyes, too. “Yeah,” Jimmy said, his heart picking up speed. “You’re probably right.”
“And they’re full of sugar.” Dressed in dark jeans and a striped navy-blue and white shirt, the guy looked amazing. He was thin and long—graceful in his movements. And the man was talking to him? He leaned in closer to Jimmy’s shoulder, his arm brushing Jimmy’s skin. “I’m gonna get cavities before I get drunk.” He laughed a little. He smelled fantastic.
“Yeah,” Jimmy said.
Was that all he was good for?
Yeah?
The guy narrowed his eyes at him and laughed again. “I’m Nolan.”
“Hi…I’m Jimmy.”
Nolan gave him a long look. “Is that your boyfriend at the bar, Jimmy?”
Nolan had been watching him? This wasn’t just small talk then. “Uh, no. He’s my friend. It’s his birthday and his partner’s out of town.” Jimmy felt a thrill of excitement run through him, but it was best not to get his hopes up.
Nolan leaned in close again. “So…uh, what do you do?” he asked into Jimmy’s ear.
Was this guy really flirting with him?
Jimmy chanced a longer look at Nolan. “I’m—I’m a cook. Well, a sous-chef.”
“Oh, how interesting. I knew you did something that involved creativity.”
“And you?”
“Bank teller.” Nolan’s sexy brown eyes gleamed with a wonderful heat Jimmy was immediately drawn to. “I just moved here from Nova Scotia,” Nolan said, “so I took the first job I landed. But I’m not too good with standing in a box all day.” He laughed again. “I started dancing behind the counter today, and almost got fired.”
“Oh, that’s so cute,” Jimmy said, and then realized it was his turn at the shooter bar. He babbled his order to the bartender, the adrenaline pumping through him. Didn’t want Nolan to leave. He watched the barman pour the shots. “Uh, wait,” he said, looking over at Nolan, “How many did you want?”
Nolan seemed surprised at his offer. “Oh, that’s so nice of you. Just one. Or wait, maybe two. Thank you.”
Jimmy paid for everything and then grabbed the shots. He searched the crowd for Paul’s face and caught Paul staring at him with a mischievous grin.
“Well, cheers.” Nolan said, raising his shot glass up to Jimmy. “Thanks for the shots.”
“Are you here alone?” Jimmy’s fever rose and his heart pounded so hard, he could hear it over the sound of the music.
Nolan still held his glass up. “Yeah…I am actually. My friends left a while ago.”
“Oh, okay, well, why don’t you join me and my friend?” Jimmy didn’t know where this courage was coming from. Something about Nolan empowered him.
Nolan peeked over Jimmy’s shoulder. “Your friend won’t mind?”
Maybe it was the booze. This magical night. The full moon’s magnetic pull drawing him out. The fever he’d had for days. Or maybe it was the way the purple light danced in Nolan’s eyes. But Jimmy couldn’t help taking Nolan’s hand in his as though he’d known the man for years. “Come on,” he said, the feel of Nolan’s fingers inside his hand making him feel like he owned the world, “I don’t intend on losing you in the crowd.”
Nolan pressed his lips to Jimmy’s ear. “Then don’t you let go of my hand tonight.”
* * * *
Outside, the sidewalk was filled with the last of the crowd pouring out of the club.
“Oh, wow, I’d forgotten how nice oxygen feels.” Paul fanned himself. He was sweating. “Can’t believe you two got me to dance.” He gave Nolan an affectionate look. “You sure have moves for a bank teller.”
Jimmy couldn’t believe his luck. On the dance floor, Nolan had stayed close to him, never slipping out of his hands. Guys had tried to cut in, but Nolan hadn’t let them come between Jimmy and him.
“Actually,” Nolan said, reaching for Jimmy’s hand and holding it tight, “I’m a dancer. I mean—I’m starting at Montreal’s Dance Academy in the fall. That’s why I moved here. I was accepted..” He grinned. “I got in this time. It was my second audition. And I got in!”
Jimmy understood the dedication it must have taken Nolan to make this dream happen. One thing Jimmy could relate to after twenty years of making his way in the food industry, was ambition and the pursuit of goals. “That’s incredible,” he said, squeezing Nolan’s hand. “Wow. Congratulations.”
“If you wanna see me in action,” Nolan said with a little smirk Jimmy was already fond of, “my bank has a float in the parade tomorrow and I was crazy enough to volunteer to dance for them. I’ve never even been to a Pride event and now I’m gonna be in one. Isn’t that nuts? My friends and family back home are gonna see me on TV and know exactly who I am. No more hiding out for me.”
Paul’s eyes widened. “You’re a dancer in the parade?”
“Yes!” Nolan laughed and then turned more serious, looking into Jimmy’s eyes. “Will you be there? It would be really great if—”
“Absolutely. I’ll be there.” Jimmy swallowed pins, knowing he was pushing himself this weekend.
“That’s so cool.” Nolan took his phone out. “Shit, I really need to get some rest now or I’ll be good for nothing tomorrow, because I have to dance for two hours straight, but can we exchange numbers and maybe meet up tomorrow or something?”
Paul pressed Jimmy’s shoulder and winked. “Hey, I’m gonna get going,” he said. “Thanks for the amazing night, guys.” He hugged Jimmy. “He’s so lovely,” he breathed into his ear. “Don’t be afraid.” He walked away and then turned to look at them. “Have a great Pride!”
Nolan and Jimmy stood face to face for a moment, oblivious to the noise and people around them. Then Jimmy swallowed hard. “I think I’m probably a little older than you are, huh?”
“I’m twenty-seven.” Nolan tilted his head, watching him closely. “And the fine lines around your mouth tell me that you’re a smiler.”
Jimmy couldn’t help laughing. “Yeah. Guess I am.”
Nolan turned Jimmy’s hand over and skimmed his palm with a fingertip. “Your life line is very long, so you’re not going anywhere for a while. There’s plenty of time.”
“I see.” Jimmy stared at his hand inside Nolan’s fingers. Jimmy wanted to tell him he was probably wrong about that.
“Your love line tells me—”
“No, tell me tomorrow…Okay?”
“I’ll be the guy in the skimpy green briefs, with the money symbol painted on his chest.”
“Terrific.”
They walked together for a few blocks and Jimmy was delighted to listen to Nolan’s plans for the future. Nolan had left his small town in Nova Scotia, determined to become a professional ballet dancer. At age twenty-seven, he was already considered ancient in the industry and would have to work twice as hard to make it
.
That, too, Jimmy understood. He’d always had to work harder.
Jimmy slowed down. They’d reached his street. “Actually, I live right over there. See the balcony with the short palm tree on the first floor?”
“Oh, cool. You’re right in the middle of the action then.” Nolan leaned back on his heels, hooking his thumbs into his jeans. “See you tomorrow?”
Jimmy nodded, dying to kiss Nolan, but unable to work up the nerve. “Yes, I’ll be there. Just text me.”
Nolan took a step closer. “You know, I watched you gazing out at the dance floor for a long time tonight before I had the guts to talk to you. The more I watched you, the more everybody else started to pale in comparison. It’s the way you look at people, Jimmy. I don’t know how to explain it, but I feel like we’re much alike, you and I.”
“I’m holding back from kissing you,” Jimmy stammered, the words coming out all wrong, “‘cause I can’t really believe that a guy like you would even give me a second glance.” He let his guard down a little.
“What? Man, you’re the first guy I’ve met in the city who hasn’t groped me in the first hour of knowing me or asked me if I was cut or uncut, while checking his Grindr account for another possible hook up.”
Jimmy burst out laughing. “Okay. I see.”
“Tomorrow,” Nolan said, touching Jimmy’s scrubby cheek, “I wanna see your face in the crowd, Jimmy. Because I’ll be dancing for you. So be there…Please.”
* * * *
When Jimmy opened his eyes the next morning, his first thought was of Nolan. He checked the clock on his nightstand. It was almost eleven. He tried sitting up, but was too weak. His throat was so sore, he could barely swallow his own saliva. He touched his forehead and felt the heat of his skin. He was burning up. “Oh, no,” he groaned, struggling to sit up. He managed to put his feet on the floor, and then took a few seconds to get his thoughts together. The throat infection was back and not going anywhere. His immune system wasn’t as strong as it had been last year. He’d been working too hard in the last months. His doctor had warned him to take it easy, but he hadn’t listened.
Discouraged and a little scared, Jimmy stood and carefully walked down the short hall to the washroom. Inside the blue bathroom, he turned the light on. When he caught sight of his face in the mirror, he knew he wasn’t going anywhere today, aside from the clinic later. He washed his face and took two aspirins for form. He’d been on the cocktail for years. Aspirin was a bit of a joke in comparison.
Jimmy went back to bed. Sitting up against the pillow, he debated on calling up Paul for some support. He stared at the phone in his hand and decided he’d sleep and wait to see what shape he’d be in later. He’d been riding the ups and downs of the virus for twelve years. He knew time could be a friend or an enemy.
When the phone buzzed in his hand, Jimmy jumped a little. Heart in mouth, he clicked on Nolan’s text.
Hi! Where will you be standing? Can’t wait to see you!
Jimmy sighed. Another missed opportunity.
Another moment stolen from him.
He swallowed and cringed, the pain searing his throat. Tears made his vision blurry. He typed his message and threw the phone on the bed.
Hi, Nolan. So sorry I can’t make it today. Too sick. I’m sorry. I know you’re gonna shine out there. Wish I could be there to see you.
For minutes, Jimmy stared at the phone, willing it to ring. To buzz. To show him he wasn’t alone in the world.
But after half an hour, he couldn’t take the pain of hoping anymore and shut his eyes tight, listening to the crowd that had gathered a few streets down from his apartment. People were cheering and celebrating out there, while he fought to keep his pride against a status he’d have to disclose to Nolan before he even had the chance to hold the man against his heart.
* * * *
A noise pulled him out of his light sleep. Was someone ringing his doorbell?
Feverish, Jimmy cracked an eye open.
Yes, someone was knocking on his front door.
But Jimmy couldn’t imagine crawling out of bed and answering the door. Then his phone buzzed on the mattress and he stared at the words on the screen, blinking and squinting.
It’s me Nolan. I’m knocking on your door, Jimmy. I’m worried. Are you there?
Jimmy managed to type a few words.
Yes, I’m here. Key is under the mat.
Seconds later, covered in gold dust, with a cash symbol painted on his bare chest, and dressed in ridiculous green briefs, Nolan stood in his open bedroom door, holding up a brown bag. “Hey…”
Jimmy tried to smile. “Look at you,” he said in a hoarse and weak voice.
“Oh, Jimmy.” Nolan hurried to his bedside and touched his head. “I was really concerned.”
“You’re missing the parade.”
“I brought you some chicken soup.” Nolan had tears in his eyes. “Eat and then we’re going to the clinic.”
With effort, Jimmy sat up against the pillows. He couldn’t take his eyes off Nolan. He was here. Was he really here? Was he dreaming? “You’re missing the parade,” he said again, his throat lined with pins. “Your big moment.”
Nolan brushed Jimmy’s hair away from his forehead. “This is my big moment.” He inhaled sharply and opened the brown bag. “Let’s have some soup.”
“Thank you…” Jimmy tried not to breakdown, but his emotions were raw.
Nolan brought the plastic spoon to Jimmy’s lips. “Eat.” He cracked a weak smile.
Jimmy obeyed, taking the spoon into his mouth. The soup was too salty, but still good. “I have to tell you something, Nolan. I’m—”
“So, I found out I was positive two years ago,” Nolan said, scooping up more soup. “When did you find out?”
For a second, Jimmy couldn’t speak. He ate another spoonful of soup and sat up a little more. “I found out twelve years ago.”
“Okay. So glad we got that out of the way.” Nolan put the soup down on the nightstand and grabbed Jimmy’s hands. His brown eyes were vivid and full of love. “Now can I read your palm?”
Jimmy hesitated and then touched Nolan’s smooth chest, where the money sign was painted. “Yes, tell me.”
Nolan leaned in and kissed him, his mouth lingering gently over Jimmy’s lips.
That kiss rocked Jimmy down to his core. This was it. This was the golden moment of his life.
Flustered, Nolan stared into Jimmy’s eyes for a moment and then looked down at Jimmy’s open hand. He skimmed his finger across the hot palm. “I see a long and lonely road. Many missed chances.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” Jimmy whispered.
“A lot of hurt and maybe a bit of anger.”
Jimmy squeezed Nolan’s thigh with his free hand. “Yes…”
Nolan glanced up and slowly brought Jimmy’s hand to his lips. “Unfulfilled desires, but always hope.” He kissed Jimmy’s fingertips, one by one. “And finally…chicken soup.” He winked.
Outside, the parade had reached Jimmy’s street corner. He could hear the music and drums—people shouting and cheering. He could almost see the rainbow flags flapping in the wind, the colors not only representing diversity, but all of the human emotions. And today, he no longer felt blue.
Nolan looked at the open bedroom window, the glitter on his shoulders shining in the sunlight. “Listen to that. The sound of pride. There’s nothing quite like it.”
“You missed your first parade for me.”
Nolan looked back at him. “There’s always next year…right?”
Jimmy didn’t hesitate for one more second and pulled Nolan into his arms. “Yes,” he said in a strong voice, believing in a future for the first time in so long. He held Nolan close to his bruised and battered heart. “There’s always next year.”
Nolan looked up at him. “And the next.” He kissed Jimmy’s lips.
“And the next.”
“And the next…”
* * * *
&n
bsp; ABOUT MEL BOSSA
Mel Bossa is a bisexual author who lives in Montreal’s gay village where she finds inspiration for her life and art every day. She dreams of the time when popular LGBT fiction will be read in schools and found in all public libraries. For more information, visit goodreads.com/author/show/4626596.Mel_Bossa.
Will You Marry Them? by David Connor and E.F. Mulder
It was a week before Pride Month began. The sign across the front of the hotel ballroom said it all—LGBTQ Heroes. While Ridley worked the crowd, Rocco hid in the corner, perched upon a bar stool hating the whole thing. It was a high profile celebrity murder case that brought them there. Ridley was shot apprehending a psycho gunman on live morning television. Thank God he survived. Rocco had fallen in love with his police partner during the investigation, of maybe he’d loved him all along. Either way, he was grateful for every moment he and Ridley had been given over the past six months, even if they couldn’t share their love in the open.
“Hey.” Rocco thought the guy sitting beside him looked as miserable as he felt.
“Hi.”
“You hiding out, too?”
“Yeah. I’m not much for crowds…or leaving the house, really.”
“So, what brings you out?” Rocco looked up to ask. At his height, he often had neck strain.
“My guy’s a hero. I’m Bart.” He extended a hand.
“Rocco. Which one’s yours?”
Bart nodded toward the guy chatting up Ridley. “Sawyer. Sawyer Ettinger. He’s being honored for philanthropic work.”
“Ah. That’s my…my partner he’s talking to.”
“He’s cute. Was that dumb? I don’t always talk…good.”
Rocco chuckled. “You’re fine. And Rid, he’s my police partner not my…You know what? You have a face I think I can trust. Fuck it. We’re together, but don’t say anything. Whoo.” Rocco took a deep breath. “That felt good. We’re not allowed to date. Ironic, huh, that we’re here getting a jump on pride month, a time to celebrate being out and proud, and Rid and I…can’t be.”
“Sounds like it kind of sucks.”
“You know what, Bart? It kind of does.”
Love Is Proud Page 6