Within twenty-four hours, Evan sent Pete what felt like a hundred texts.
The first few times his phone went off, he ignored it, assuming it was his mom. Sometimes when she was bored at work, she scrolled through the emojis on her phone and sent him the ones she thought he’d like. He didn’t have the heart to tell her he’d seen them all already.
When the notifications kept coming, however, he snatched his phone off the nightstand, praying there hadn’t been some kind of emergency. But no, all the texts were from Evan. Pete was accustomed to getting a trickle of texts a week, primarily from Sana. Now, a full day later, he had dozens, and they showed no sign of stopping.
It took him a while to get into the habit of checking his phone, but now he found himself reaching for it every few minutes, getting excited if there was a new notification, or putting it away disheartened if there wasn’t. But Evan rarely disappointed him.
Most of what he sent consisted of song recs, goofy selfies, and photos of his food. But he also fired off questions like he was about to take an All Things Pete quiz. He asked everything from his favorite color—blue, very exciting—to what movies he’d want with him if he were trapped on a desert island that was somehow outfitted with Blu-ray. They even got into a heated argument about whether or not the eagles from the Lord of the Rings could have flown the Fellowship to Mordor, which nearly ended in blood.
Pete had never had this much fun.
And he was well on his way to being able to ace his own Evan quiz. From his texts, Pete discovered that Evan played baseball on a local amateur team, loved Indian food, and that the tattoos on his arms were in fact constellations. He sent Pete a shot of a telescope set up near a large window, along with the message, Mapping the Rho Ophiuchi nebula complex. It seemed he was an amateur astronomer.
As many subjects as they covered, there was one question Pete still hadn’t gotten the answer to: what did all of this mean? It was obvious to him by now that Evan liked him. He wouldn’t waste so much time and effort on someone he didn’t like. But how did he like him? Did he just want to hook up, or did he want something more?
Which in turn begged the question: did Pete want him to want more?
All this uncertainty was starting to make his brain hurt. And considering his tentative position with Colette, it would probably be better if he didn’t ask.
The relentless flood of texts continued until the next night, when Pete was lying in bed, decidedly not sleeping. He was watching light striate across his ceiling as cars drove by, fruitlessly willing himself to close his eyes. His phone was charging on the nightstand, or at least, it was until it buzzed. Another text, he thought. But it kept on buzzing.
He sat straight up in bed and stared at it. No one ever called him. He actively discouraged people from doing so. Talking on the phone was just another way for him to bumble through social interactions. He snatched it up anyway and glanced at the screen, mind already jumping to the only person he’d spoken to all day.
Sure enough, Evan was calling him. This late at night, what could he possibly want?
Oh God. Considering what he’d proposed the last time they’d been together, there was a chance he was calling for phone sex. Pete had tried his hand at doing that professionally before he became a porn star. Needless to say, it wasn’t his specialty.
He had one ring left until it went to voice mail. If he was going to answer, he needed to do it now. It took him a fraction of a second to decide.
Heart racing, he hit the Answer button and held the phone to his ear. “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Evan.”
Pete smiled. “Yeah, I know. You programmed yourself into my phone, remember?”
“Smart-ass. I was being polite.” There was a strange crunching sound, like maybe Evan had taken a bite of something. A second later, he mumbled, “Did I call too late?”
Pete stifled a yawn. “No. I couldn’t sleep anyway.”
“How was your day?”
Pete frowned. This was suspiciously normal so far.
“It was good,” he answered slowly. “Are you eating something?”
“Yeah, popcorn. I’m watching a movie.”
Hmm, maybe he’s not calling for sex, then. “Which one?”
“The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension.”
Pete blinked. “Bless you.”
“Never seen it?”
“Never even heard of it.”
“It’s great. Something of a cult classic. Have you ever heard the phrase ‘No matter where you go, there you are’?”
Pete thought about it for a minute. That actually sounded familiar. “I think I’ve seen that somewhere before.”
“Probably tattooed on a hipster. It’s a popular quote. I don’t think the movie came up with it, but it made it famous. It’s one of those universal truths that speaks to people.”
Pete frowned. “I guess I’m not deep enough. I don’t get it.”
“Don’t take it literally. And it helps if you hear it in the context of the film.”
“Ah. Maybe I’ll rent it or something.”
“We’ll watch it together.”
Pete’s heart skipped a beat. As he struggled to think of a response, Evan laughed his smoky-sexy laugh, the one that made Pete’s insides turn molten.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“Oh, nothing. I just keep forgetting who I’m dealing with. Sometimes I think I can actually hear gears turning in your head.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m just teasing you.” There was a beat of silence. “Like right now, I swear I can hear you frowning. What’s on your mind?”
“It’s just . . . Did you really call to ask how my day was?”
“What were you expecting?” Evan’s tone dripped with suggestion.
Pete turned bright red. “Nothing! This is just so normal, it’s almost abnormal. I wasn’t expecting it.”
“Good. I like to keep you on your toes.” Another crunch. “There was something I wanted to talk about, though. I’ve been thinking about what you told me, about Colette threatening to fire you. What exactly did she say?”
“I don’t remember verbatim. She said something like if I can’t handle a project like Heat Wave she can find a replacement.”
“I thought that might be the case. Do you think she meant it?”
“Of course. Colette doesn’t make empty threats.”
“I’m not so sure.”
“Why?”
“This project is her baby. If she’d really believed you were a danger to it, she would have fired you earlier. Before it was too late.”
“‘Too late’?”
“Think about it: all the promo materials for Heat Wave are finished. And sometime in the next week, we’re going to film part one. If she were to replace you, she’d have to reshoot everything. At some point, that’ll become too expensive for her to do.”
Pete’s eyes widened. “That . . . is a really good point. I didn’t even think about that.”
“Yeah, and you know how Colette loves to mind her bottom line. Although, truthfully, I don’t think replacing you was ever on her agenda.”
“Then why threaten me?”
There was a rustling sound, like Evan was changing positions. “I think she was just trying to scare you. Maybe even protect you.”
Pete didn’t bother to hide the disbelief in his tone. “Protect me? From what?”
“Haven’t the faintest.”
Something in Evan’s tone nagged at Pete. He suspected Evan knew exactly what it was but didn’t want to say. “It sounds like you put a lot of thought into this. Any particular reason?”
“I felt guilty for giving you my number even though your job was allegedly on the line. And I was worried her threat would scare you into keeping your distance from me. But if it turns out Colette’s bluffing, we can keep doing what we’re doing. Everyone wins.”
Pete almost couldn’t draw enough breath to ask, “What
are we doing?”
There was an interminable pause.
“Have a drink with me.”
“Uh.” Pete glanced at the clock on his nightstand. It was already midnight. “Right now?”
Another low laugh. “No, I know better than to meet up with you now. Going out this late can only lead to bad decisions. Enjoyable ones, but bad nonetheless. I meant tomorrow, or the next time you’re free. What’s your favorite bar?”
Pete was grateful they weren’t having this conversation in person, or he’d probably swallow his tongue. “I don’t have one.”
“Okay. We’ll go to my favorite bar.”
“I can’t.” Pete squirmed. “I’m not twenty-one.”
Evan groaned. “I should have known. No one as twitchy as you has access to alcohol.”
“I’m not twitchy,” he protested. “And it’s not like it’s permanent. I have to age eventually.”
Evan laughed. “That’s true. My bad for assuming. You look young, but you’re so serious, I figured you just have a baby face. How old are you?”
“Twenty.”
“So close and yet so far. When’s your birthday?”
“February sixth.”
“That’s not long from now.” There was another rustling sound. “Let me buy you your first beer.”
Pete’s pulse flickered. “It wouldn’t be my first. I’ve definitely consumed alcohol in the past.”
“Oh, have you, good sir?” Evan said, affecting a snooty accent. “Then perhaps I’ll afford you your first opportunity to consume legal alcohol.”
Pete huffed. “I don’t sound like that.”
“You kinda do. Why?”
“Why what?”
“What’s with the vocab? Are you super smart or something?”
“Not really. I consider myself average in just about every way. I read a lot, though. Sometimes I catch myself talking like how people do in books.”
“You’re definitely not.”
“Huh?”
“Average. That’s not how I would describe you at all.”
Pete fiddled with a strand of his hair, uncomfortable and pleased at the same time. “If you don’t mind my asking, how old are you?”
“Twenty-three.”
“What? How are you only three years older than me?”
“Are you saying I look old?”
“No! It’s just, you were acting as if— I mean, you do look older, but not like—”
Evan was laughing again, too hard to speak, apparently. He giggled for a solid minute while Pete made indignant noises.
When Evan finally had himself under control, he said, “I’m sorry. I really am. You’re just so easy. And for the record, three years is a long time.”
“Is not,” Pete retorted just to be difficult.
“Uh-huh. Since you can’t get a beer with me, want to do something else?”
“Like what?”
“Get coffee? Tea? What sorts of beverages do you prefer to consume?” He did the snooty voice again, and this time Pete laughed.
“At this point, I think coffee runs in my veins.”
“Then meet me for one. Tomorrow. How about that place I saw you outside of before?”
Shit. He couldn’t bring a boy to the Globe. Sana would have questions, Joshua would never let him hear the end of it, and Evan would know about his not-so-glamorous side job.
He blurted out the first excuse that came to mind. “I can’t tomorrow. I have class.”
Silence.
“You have class on Sundays?”
Fuck. What a dumb lie to get caught in. Why didn’t he just suggest a different coffee place? There was a Starbucks on every corner, for Christ’s sake. He couldn’t very well say that now, but he couldn’t keep up with the lie either. He ended up struggling with his own tongue for an agonizing stretch.
Mercifully, Evan broke the silence. “I didn’t know you were a student.”
Pete leaped at the chance to change the subject. “Yeah, full-time. Hence, Colette keeps scheduling us to shoot on weekends.”
“What are you studying?”
“Computer Science.”
“Not planning on being a world-famous porn star, then?”
Pete snorted. “Not anytime soon. I’ll probably get a job as a database admin, or if I’m lucky, a programmer. They make great money, and I love to code. It’s like reading, only with numbers.”
There was a smile in Evan’s voice as he said, “You are just full of surprises.”
His tone made Pete’s chest twinge with an indecipherable emotion. He suddenly wanted to ask Evan if their coffee date was . . . well, a date. The words tingled on the tip of Pete’s tongue, but he held them back. He didn’t want to shatter whatever tentative thing they had going on. And that was a scary realization. He’d only been talking to Evan outside of work for a couple of days, and he already felt like he’d miss him if they stopped. What was he going to do when Heat Wave wrapped and they no longer had a regularly scheduled excuse to see each other?
“I’m going to go to sleep,” Evan said, breaking Pete from his thoughts. “Have a good night.”
“Wait,” Pete said. “We never decided about coffee.”
“Ah. So, that wasn’t your subtle way of telling me you’re not interested after all?”
Pete struggled to fill his lungs. “Interested in what?”
“Me,” Evan said simply.
He wanted to beg him to elaborate, but he’d pushed his luck too far in this conversation already. “No, I just got my days mixed up and thought tomorrow was Monday. Though I genuinely do have plans for tomorrow.” Church with his mom counted as plans, right?
“When are you free, then?”
“I have work and class during most of the week, but I’m off Friday, assuming Colette doesn’t need us.”
“She probably will. Not that I’m complaining. I’ve been enjoying my work a lot lately.”
Pete smiled. “Me too.”
“So, we’ll try for Friday?”
“Yeah. I’d like that.”
There was a sound on the other end of the line like Evan had cleared his throat. “All right, I really am going to bed. It was nice talking to you.”
“You too.”
“Night.”
“Night.”
Pete hit the End Call button and then flopped onto his back. Well . . . that wasn’t what he’d expected. He rolled onto his side and repeated the entire conversation in his head until he fell asleep.
When he woke up the next morning, he didn’t remember dreaming, and yet he somehow knew Evan had been in his thoughts all night. Naturally, the first thing he did was reach for his phone. Sure enough, he had a text.
You’re cute when you’re sleepy.
Pete’s heart went from just-woke-up to just-ran-a-marathon in three seconds flat. Well, that answered one question. He was definitely going to become an addict.
Sunday rolled into Monday. Pete felt like all he did with his free time was sleep and text Evan. On his walk to class, he almost collided with another pedestrian when he attempted to walk and type at the same time.
If he ever saw Antoine again, he resolved to apologize for judging him for being glued to his phone. He officially had no room to talk.
His Programming Logic class was taught by Professor Mejia, an elderly but robust man who talked often about his experiences working with computers the size of offices back in the sixties. He was a lot less focused than Professor Whiton, and he had a tendency to go off on unrelated tangents, which meant Pete spent most of his lectures daydreaming. On normal days, that wasn’t a problem, but today he could have used a distraction, if only to take his mind off Evan for a moment.
He walked into the lecture hall twenty minutes before class was set to start and scanned the room. Only a handful of students had arrived, and Raj wasn’t among them. Pete grabbed two seats in the back and pulled his laptop out of his bag. He fired it up and opened his notes.
He managed to study
them for five whole minutes before he gave up and opened Facebook. He was on Kyle Darko’s page before he even had a chance to think about it. There were a dozen new walls posts, including one from his sister thanking him for lunch.
Man, he really was out to his family. The idea still made Pete uncomfortable. He remembered high school, how fast rumors had spread and what had happened to the people they’d been about. College was a bit better, but he wasn’t going to start introducing himself as Pete Griflow, adult entertainer, anytime soon. Evan was seriously brave. But then, he was a fit, handsome man with what appeared to be a large support network. That could make anyone brave.
Pete was about to close the window when he spotted a status update amidst all the posts. His heart skipped as he checked the time stamp on it: 12:32 a.m. the previous night. That was around when they got off the phone.
It said: History is a-made at night.
Pete raised a brow at that. Was he referencing their talk, or something else? He pulled Google up in his browser and pasted the status into the search bar. The movie Evan had mentioned from the night before popped up in the results. Why had he chosen that particular quote?
Right on cue, his phone vibrated.
How’s class?
Pete typed a quick response. It hasn’t started yet. So far so good.
“Hey.”
Pete yelped and dropped his phone. Half of the now-full classroom turned to look at him. He ducked his head down as Raj plopped into the seat next to him.
“Sorry,” Raj said, sounding anything but. “Why so serious, Heath?”
“No reason.” Pete snatched up his phone just as it buzzed again.
You forgot your thruster.
He shook his head. Must be another movie reference. Evan had said they’d watch it together, but if he sent any more cryptic messages, Pete would have to download it.
Raj peered over his shoulder. “Who are you talking to?”
“No one.” Pete set the phone down on the far corner of his desk and turned back to his notes. He pretended to type until Raj shrugged and pulled out his own laptop.
Professor Mejia walked in a few minutes later and began the lecture, offering Pete a welcome respite from his own thoughts. He and Raj sank into comfortable silence until Pete’s phone buzzed again, vibrating loudly on the desk. He grabbed it, heart pounding.
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