Brendon only needed a fraction of a second to decide. “Of course. Got anything in mind?”
“I’m glad you asked. I was thinking we could call it a Date Over, like a do-over. This time there won’t be any secrets or pretending. If we can make it through that—and I suspect we can—then I think I can forgive you.”
“Sounds wonderful.” Brendon did a little giddy twirl in the middle of his kitchen. “When?”
“When are you free?”
“I’ll have to talk to my boss to find out when my next day off is, but I have some late evenings coming up.”
“Let’s wait until we both have a day off. I have something special in mind, and I don’t want to rush. Sound good?”
Brendon hesitated.
“Is a day date too much? I can do evening if you can’t spare the time.”
“No, the date sounds lovely. It’s just . . . this seems so easy. After I didn’t hear from you all week, I thought that was it, you know? Now you’re here, planning a second date like nothing happened. I know you said this is a test run, but I guess I’m not sure why you’re giving me another chance at all.”
There was a pause, and then Matt exhaled. “Because even knowing what I know now, I still think our first date was the best I’ve had in years. When we were at Catrina’s, it was clear you knew you’d fucked up. I never doubted for a second that you understood what you were confessing. Your face when you told me what you’d done . . .” He sucked in an audible breath. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone look so beautiful and so sad.”
“I was sad. I thought I’d lost you.”
“You didn’t. At least, not yet. Like I said, we’ll see how the second date goes. Though I have to admit, my gut’s telling me that everything is gonna work out fine. Text me when you know your day off, and I’ll plan the rest, okay?”
They said goodbye and hung up. Brendon stared at his phone until the smell of burning rice brought him back to the present.
He couldn’t believe his luck. Matt was giving him another chance. There was so much to do. He needed to plan an outfit, and he definitely needed to call Sasha.
As soon as he’d rescued his dinner (mostly), he picked up his phone again. Sasha answered on the third ring and demanded to know everything. Brendon relayed every detail, which was the only thing that convinced him he hadn’t dreamed the whole encounter.
“I think this confirms your soul mate theory, dost,” she said. “Even when you weren’t looking for him, Matt found you.”
“That’s very romantic, but I gotta say, after everything that’s happened, I’m gonna give that theory a rest. At least for now. Maybe after I sweep him off his feet for good, I’ll break it out again.”
“Fair enough. I hope you have fun on your date, whenever you have it. This is a chance for you two to get to know each other on an even playing field.”
“I know. It’s so exciting. Got any more advice for me?”
“You know what I’m going to say. Try not to be too reserved. Last time, the poor man had to design a makeshift quiz to crack your icy exterior.”
“Yes, Mother.”
They swapped theories about where Matt was going to take him until Areesh stole the phone and insisted on giving Brendon a truncated version of the safe-sex talk. Brendon had to laugh. Even with his family living hundreds of miles away, he’d still ended up with two overprotective parents.
That night, as he lay in bed, he felt like a little kid who couldn’t sleep before a field trip. It would be worth being tired the next day. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted to be awake.
One thought nagged at him, however, as he finally drifted off to sleep. Matt’s forgiveness of him hadn’t come easily, per se, but it certainly wasn’t the struggle Brendon had thought it would be. And Matt’s words had been so sweet, so . . . perfect. Brendon had to wonder if it wasn’t all far too good to be true. Was he seeing the real Matt, or was his head still stuck on the idea of the perfect man he’d read about in Matt’s magazine?
Brendon wasn’t certain, but he had a feeling he was about to find out.
Brendon talked to Mr. Kenji the second he got in to work. Miracle of miracles, he had Friday off that week. His first in . . . he couldn’t remember how long. It seemed like fate. Here he was, gearing up for the biggest date of his life, and he could even have it on the most traditional date night of them all. Assuming Matt was free as well, of course.
He texted Matt the news while at lunch the next day. Brendon had to wonder if Matt did any actual work during the day, because he responded within seconds, as he always did to Brendon’s texts. Matt was not only free on Friday, but he claimed that was ideal. He still wouldn’t tell Brendon what he was planning, but he was ecstatic about the good timing.
Truth be told, Brendon didn’t even care where they went. Whatever Matt picked was sure to be wonderful. Perfect, even. And so long as he was on his best behavior, their epic romance could get back on track. His trepidation about Matt and his seeming perfection remained in the back of his mind, but even that couldn’t dampen his enthusiasm. There was nothing he could do about it right now anyway, so he delegated it to the backburner.
Brendon expected the days before his date to drag, but to his surprise, they flew by. When he finished his evening shift Thursday night, Sasha and Areesh offered to come over and help him pick an outfit for the big date. He declined, however. He wanted to go it alone this time. He didn’t want anything, even the well-meant advice of his friends, to throw him off his game.
Since he was meeting Matt during the day, he’d get to delve into a whole different section of his closet: brunch chic. His dyed hair had faded to a pretty turquoise color that he wanted to emphasize, so he selected pale-blue pants, a white tank top, and a navy jacket. It might be on the warm side, but since he didn’t know where they were going, he’d have to take his chances. He could always take the jacket off and sling it over his shoulder.
With his outfit selected and their meeting place set, all that was left to do was wait. As he tossed and turned in bed, he joked to himself that if he kept having dates to look forward to, he was never going to get any sleep.
In the morning, he had a text waiting from Matt.
Mind if we meet at eleven instead of noon? At Jitters? I have a surprise for you.
Brendon couldn’t type yes fast enough. Normally, he was the sort of person who arrived not one minute earlier or later than he was supposed to, but he suspected today he was going to be an early bird.
He forced himself to go through his morning routine at a normal pace, though all he wanted to do was throw on his outfit and rush out the door.
You’re not meeting him until eleven, he reminded himself as he stood in his postage stamp of a bathroom and washed his face. Get there too early and you’ll end up pulling all your prized hair out while you wait.
The mystery of what they were doing compounded his anxiety. Should he eat beforehand? Wear comfortable shoes? Put on waterproof mascara? He had to trust that Matt would have told him if he needed to do or bring anything special. But then, Matt walked around with papers sticking out of his bag.
At 10:30 a.m., Brendon left his apartment and made the agonizing drive downtown. Agonizing because he forced himself to drive the speed limit. It would take even longer to get there if he got pulled over. And so he completed the most law-abiding drive of his life with his teeth on edge the entire time.
Jitters was packed with the usual late-morning crowd: dead-eyed college students loading up on caffeine and corporate types squeezing in business meetings before lunch. Matt was sitting at the coffee bar with two mugs and a bottle of water in front of him. The imagery was almost eerie: he was seated at a bar, waiting on Brendon just as he’d been that night at Catrina’s. But this time, the sight of him filled Brendon with excitement, not dread.
“Matt.” Brendon waved as he approached.
Matt caught sight of him and stood up. “Hey, gorgeous. Right on time.”
He stepped back from the hug but stayed close. “Did you just come from work?”
“Yeah, how’d you guess?”
“You smell like a magazine. Like, the actual pages. You don’t usually smell like that, though.”
Matt grinned. “Guilty. I don’t normally go anywhere near our printers. We have a separate building for binding and distribution downtown. I stopped by it on my way here to pick up your present.” His messenger bag lay at the foot of his barstool. He stooped to reach in it and pulled out a small, spiral-bound book. When he stood, he held it in such a way that Brendon couldn’t see the cover. “You want it now, or do you want some coffee first?”
Brendon was itching to see his surprise, but he didn’t want to be rude. “Just this once, I’m going to be polite and take the coffee first. Thank you.”
“I love a man with good manners.” Matt set the makeshift book cover-down—the bastard—and handed over Brendon’s cup.
Brendon took a sip and grimaced. “This is black.”
“Of course. That’s how I take my coffee.” Matt winked. “Sorry, I thought you were still pretending to like everything I like.”
Brendon made a sour face. “I’m so glad we’ve reached a place in our relationship where we can joke about that. Be right back.” He weaved his way to the sugar station, dumped some sweetener and milk into his coffee, and stirred it with a wooden swizzle stick. He could feel Matt watching him the whole time, but he didn’t look at him until he’d snapped the lid on again and ventured back. “There. Much better.”
Matt’s grin had softened into an affectionate smile. “You’re adorable.”
“Because I put far too much sugar in my coffee?”
“No. You just are. I can’t describe it, and believe me, I’ve tried.” He scooped the book off the counter. “All right. Enough stalling on my part. We should get started.”
Brendon wasn’t sure why, but he was suddenly nervous. “What about coffee?”
“I ordered them to-go for a reason. We’ll bring ’em with us.”
“Where are we going?”
“That”—Matt waggled his eyebrows—“is for you to decide.” He flipped the book over and held it up. On the cover, someone had hand-drawn colorful swirling letters that read Brendon and Matt’s Choose Your Own Date Book. The edges were decorated with little cartoon symbols: hearts, leaves, and stars.
Brendon was almost speechless. “This is amazing. You made this?”
“I wrote it, but my friend Becca did the illustrations. She’s super talented. She designs the covers for Extra.”
“It’s like one of those Choose Your Own Adventure books?”
“Yup, but date themed.”
“Wow. When did you have time to do all this?”
“I started it after our first date, and even during our rough patch I kept working on it. I should have taken that as a sign that I couldn’t stay away from you.”
Brendon wanted to say something back, but the words stuck in his throat. This book . . . this whole date idea . . . this was perfect. Like, million-dollar romance movie perfect. And once again, Matt had said all the right things to boot. This had to be too good to be true, didn’t it? If there was one thing Brendon had learned in his many years of working retail, it was that everyone had a dark side.
Matt must have noticed his pause. His smile faltered. “Do you like it?”
Brendon answered truthfully. “I love it. It’s so thoughtful. I’d ruffle your hair if it weren’t already so messy.”
“Go ahead. I’ll just do the same to you.”
Brendon’s face must have been something to behold, because Matt burst out laughing. “It was a joke, I promise. I swear I’ll never touch your beautiful hair without permission.” He handed the book over to Brendon. “Flip to the first page. And no peeking at the rest of it, okay?”
Pushing his concerns aside for now, Brendon did as he was instructed. Page one bore an illustration of a lighthouse peeking out of a bed of fluffy clouds. There was a quiz-style question in the center of the page.
What would you like to do first?
Brendon eyed the spine of the book. “Is this date gonna be like three days long? Lovely as that sounds, I have to go to work eventually.”
“No, don’t worry. Not all of the pages have activities on them. There are some quiz questions thrown in as well.” Matt moved behind Brendon to read over his shoulder, pressing his warm, firm body to Brendon’s back. “So, what’ll it be?”
Brendon lost the ability to think for a moment. When he regained cognizance, he scanned the options. “I like C. The walk by Riverside.”
“Excellent choice.” Matt stepped back and held out his arm. “Ready when you are.”
Brendon took his elbow, grabbed his coffee with his free hand, and gestured for Matt to lead the way.
It was a ten-minute walk to Riverside, a small boardwalk next to one of the Ohio River’s distributaries. Shops and restaurants had popped up along it, making it a popular date destination. The weather was beautiful, clear and sunny with just a hint of a breeze. It would be hot in a few hours, but right now, the air still carried the memory of a cool morning.
Couples milled up and down the boardwalk while people with their dogs played in the grass. Blankets were spread out beneath trees, and picnic baskets were put to good use. The air smelled like taffy and sunshine. Brendon couldn’t have pictured a more idyllic afternoon.
As Matt and he walked arm in arm, they chatted about everything from what a beautiful day it was to the last show they’d watched on Netflix.
“It’s called 5 Centimeters Per Second,” Brendon said as they rounded a stand selling frozen lemonade, “and it wrecked my life, but in a good way. You should watch it.”
“Why’s it called that?”
“Apparently, that’s the average speed that a cherry blossom falls, but I’ve never seen one to know.”
“I have.” Matt smiled. “They have them in Washington. I went there once during the spring for a work conference.”
“What are magazine conferences like?”
“It was actually more of a writing conference. They gave me an award.” Matt, who looked redder in the face than he had a moment ago, waved as if he could dust the words away. “It was no big deal.”
“I’m sure it was a very big deal, Mr. Award-winning Writer.” Brendon laughed when Matt flushed even harder. He took pity on him and changed the subject. “So, what was the last thing you watched?”
Matt didn’t hesitate. “Buffy. I marathon it every couple of years. The twentieth anniversary just rolled around, so I had to get my Slayer on. It’s amazing how relevant that show still is, minus the handful of episodes about the internet being evil.”
“I’ve never seen it,” Brendon admitted.
“That’s gotta be fixed posthaste. Next time you have a day off, you can come over, and we’ll watch it.” Matt let go of Brendon’s arm only to take his hand. “If you want, of course.”
Brendon twined their fingers. “I do. And while we’re at it, we can rewatch a movie I think we both like.”
“Which one?”
“The Ramen Girl.”
Matt looked gleeful. “I love that movie. No one I know has seen it. How’d you know I like it?”
“You mentioned it in that quiz you wrote for Extra. The one that made me want to meet you. It’s one of my favorite movies. I always cry at the end.”
“You didn’t watch it because of me, did you?”
Brendon looked sidelong at Matt. “No, I’d seen it long before I read your quiz. Why?”
“Just making sure.”
Hm. That might be a check in the not-so-perfect column. That
was kinda presumptuous of him.
They approached a trellis that had beautiful pink flowers creeping up it. Brendon insisted they stop and take pictures in front of it. Matt pretended to protest, but he asked Brendon to text him the photos.
Which brought up something Brendon had wanted to mention.
“Do you have a Facebook? If you want, I’ll add you, and then I can tag you in our photos.” And maybe send you a relationship request later.
“Nah, I’m not on social media.” Matt waved again, but this time the gesture was dismissive. “I think all that tweet-snap-insta-crap is a waste of time. All people seem to do is post pictures of their food and argue. I’d just as soon not.”
Brendon frowned. “I’m surprised to hear you say that. You have a blog, don’t you? Blogging is a form of social media.”
“Yeah, but blogging has substance.”
Brendon’s Instagram flashed into his mind. Right now, it was covered in selfies and pictures of coffee. Would Matt think he was shallow if he showed it to him? Maybe. Matt had proven to be a touch on the judgmental side in the past. Yet another thing about him that suggested he wasn’t perfect. More and more of those were starting to crop up.
“If we’re finished here, you should go to page two in your book.” Matt bounced on his toes like an eager puppy.
Brendon misgivings evaporated. “I still can’t believe you made a whole book for me. This is the sweetest thing a date has ever given me.”
“Wait for it, gorgeous. We’re just getting started.”
Brendon flipped to the next page. It also had an illustration—a bird shedding beautiful, detailed feathers down the length of the paper—and a question.
Are you ready for lunch?
“Yes,” Brendon answered. “And I will take option A: try somewhere we’ve both never been before. I was actually eyeing that bakery as we walked past.” He pointed to a small building with a red-and-white striped awning, from which the aroma of fresh-baked bread emanated in waves. “Despite my aversion to bread, the pastries in the window are calling my name.”
“Excellent choice.” Matt offered his arm again. “Allow me to escort you.”
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