“That must be where you get your interest in charities,” Cal said.
Brendan’s brow pinched up. He had no idea what Cal was talking about.
Cal blushed. “I guess I have to fess up. I cyberstalked you. Only a little. Really, it was my best friend, Derek. He’s kinda protective of me.”
“Is he?” Brendan said, easing into a playful grin. “So what did you and Derek find out about me?”
“I didn’t snoop too much,” Cal said. “I swear. Stop looking at me that way.” He turned his head to hide from Brendan for a moment. “I’m terrible with the Internet. I’m not even on Facebook anymore. You can ask Derek.”
Cal’s embarrassment was adorable. But Brendan didn’t want to let him off the hook just yet. He put on a deadpan face. “I think you better tell me what you found out.”
Cal drew a breath. “Honest to god, it was just one article. About you raising money for homeless kids. Homeless gay kids.” His bright aquamarine eyes snuck back to Brendan. “I thought that was really amazing.”
Now Brendan hid his face. Cal’s shoulder brushed against his, sparking shy warmth through Brendan’s body. Cal was an irrepressible flirt. It already felt like the best date Brendan had ever had in his entire life.
When they made it up to the counter, Brendan ordered cones for both of them—a triple-scoop pistachio for Cal and a triple-scoop peppermint stick for himself. Cal dug out some cash to pay, but Brendan waved him off. It had been his invitation. And it was just ice cream. Even so, he felt proud to buy something for Cal.
While Brendan was dealing with the cashier, Cal scored the two-seat table right by the window. How was that possible? The shop was wall-to-wall people. Brendan walked over with his cone and a wad of napkins from the dispenser.
“You’re a keeper,” he told Cal.
“The people saw me looking for a table, and they said I could have it. New Yorkers are really nice. The rest of the country’s got it all wrong about you.” Cal took a soft nibble from the top of his cone, and Brendan waited out his reaction. “I think you’re right,” he said. “This is the best ice cream in the world.”
Brendan grinned. He took some bites and licks from his cone. After twenty-four hours of not having an appetite, it had returned with a vengeance.
“So you told me about your mom,” Cal said. “What about your dad?”
An “mmm” sound came out while Brendan swallowed down a mouthful of ice cream.
“I know. I’m a nosy pest,” Cal said. “You don’t have to tell me about your family if you don’t want to. But you’ve got to talk some so I get a chance to eat.”
Brendan wiped his mouth with a napkin. “My parents split up when I was five. My dad moved to Los Angeles after the divorce. He’s the kind of person who changes his mind about what he wants to do with his life every other day. Anyway, back then my dad had this idea he was going to be an actor. He got a couple of roles in TV shows and films, but it never really took off for him.”
“Has he been in anything I’d know?”
“He had a bit part in an episode of Chicago Hope, and he was on screen for about two seconds in Fight Club. He usually got roles like Cop Number Three, who gets shot in a big action scene. But he hasn’t acted in a long time. He started a documentary film company a few years back, and he keeps busy with that.”
“What about you? Did you ever want to be an actor?”
Brendan smirked at the thought. “Not really.”
Cal lowered his cone and looked at Brendan very seriously. “If you could be anything in the world, what would it be?”
Brendan hedged.
“You can’t think about it. Just the first thing that pops into your head.”
That wasn’t the kind of thing Brendan was good at. It was much more in his comfort zone to analyze a big, personal question into a slow, meaningless death. Though talking to Cal was easy. He felt like he could be honest about himself.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I’m interested in a lot of things, but I guess the most important thing for me is finding someone to settle down with.”
Cal lapped at his cone. “Would you be a househusband?”
Brendan snickered. “Yeah, I guess. I mean, I’d like to do something. Something more meaningful than brokering deals with clients to ship industrial equipment around the world. Something that makes a difference, y’know? I haven’t figured it out yet. What about you? What do you want to do?”
“Mmm.” Cal swallowed some ice cream. “Well, classical studies is pretty limited. Especially on the archeology side. My capstone project was on Apollonian sculpture from the sixth century BC. After I get my master’s, I suppose I could teach. Do research.”
“I thought the idea was to say the first thing that pops into your head,” Brendan corrected him mildly. “What would you do? Be a superhero? Start a franchise of your uncle’s antiques shops? Open an ice cream parlor?” He slid up in his swivel chair so that his knees touched Cal’s.
“I guess I’m not playing by my own rules,” Cal said. “To tell the truth, I have absolutely, pathetically no idea what I want to do with my life.”
Brendan’s eyes soldered on his. “I don’t think that matters. I like you a whole lot the way you are.”
“I’m twenty-four years old,” Cal complained. “Don’t you think I should have some clue about what I want to be when I grow up?”
“I’m twenty-eight, and I have no idea,” Brendan said. “I can be your role model.”
Cal crunched down on his sugar cone and inhabited a thoughtful phase. “I like kids. Sometimes, I think I might be good working in the education department at a museum.”
“Kids would fall in love with you.”
“You think so?”
“Absolutely.” The inside of their knees leaned against each other. Brendan reached his hand across the table and touched Cal’s elbow lightly. “Thanks for coming out with me.”
Cal grinned. “You were awfully shy. I thought I might have to slip my phone number into your shopping bag.”
“Do you do that with customers a lot?”
Cal gave him a wizened glare. “No. I never hit on customers. I haven’t met anyone I wanted to date in a long time. Before I met you, I actually was planning on swearing off dating for a while.”
“Why?”
Cal finished his cone and wiped his mouth. “Ex-boyfriend drama. I’ve been trying to figure out why I always attract the wrong kind of guys.”
That puzzled Brendan. What kind of guy was not attracted to Cal? In the ice cream shop alone, glances kept darting at Cal from people of all ages and all genders. Brendan had been with good-looking guys before, even models, but Cal was in an entirely different category—like an angel fallen from the sky. And Cal was his that night. At a nearby table, a prim, Upper East Side middle schooler was staring at Cal with his mouth hanging open. Brendan gave the boy a knowing look with an unspoken message.
That’s right, kid. Being gay can be good.
He munched down the rest of his cone.
“It’s so easy talking to you,” Cal said. “Like we’ve known each other for years.”
“I feel the same way.”
“I should tell you, my friend Derek…he wasn’t so crazy about me going out with you. It was my idea for us to come down to New York for the summer, and we said we’d do everything together.”
“Should I be jealous?”
Cal shook his head. “We’re just friends. He’s been my best friend for, like, forever. ‘Sexless boyfriends,’ he calls it. We’re housemates in Syracuse, and we got this tiny sublet for the summer in the East Village. Derek’s really amazing. He’s the only gay guy I know who can have a platonic relationship without any weirdness. I feel kind of caught in the middle. I wanted to go out with you like mad when you asked me, but I felt rotten when I told him.”
“Maybe I should meet him,” Brendan said. “Then we could all be friends.” He moved his hand along Cal’s forearm, smoothing down the sun-whitened hairs, picking g
ently through his braided bracelets, which suited his earthy personality. Brendan settled his hand lightly on Cal’s wrist.
“That’s a great idea. Derek’s dying to go to the beach,” Cal said. “The three of us could make a day of it. Have you ever been to Coney Island?”
“Never.”
“I think you’ll really like Derek. He’s really funny, and he’s brilliant in math. He ought to get a PhD, but for now, he tutors high school students.”
Brendan turned Cal’s hand over to roll his thumb over his palm. Every part of his companion was a wonderland. He told Cal absently, “He sounds like a great guy.”
Gradually, he became aware of their surroundings. People were still queuing into the shop. Folks were standing with their ice cream, glancing hopefully around the seating area for a place to park themselves.
“You want to take a walk?” he asked. “I can show you the promenade by the East River. It’s a great view. You can see the bridges and Roosevelt Island.”
Cal’s face lit up. “Sure.”
THEY HEADED CROSSTOWN and walked under the whirring FDR Parkway, emerging to the breezy waterside and the rippling void of the East River. An asphalt path for pedestrians and bikers edged along the bank of Manhattan and its jutting cliffs of high-rises. Across the water, the peculiar urban enclave of Roosevelt Island was a towering palisade of brick and steel. Cal wandered to the guardrail of the walkway, pivoting around to take in everything.
Brendan felt like a little kid again, watching him. Everything about New York City was still a wonder to Cal. Imagining the city through his eyes made it wondrous again. The leviathan island of skyscrapers. At night, it wasn’t exactly peaceful, but it was definitely majestic with its colossal vistas and infinite panorama of sparkling lights. He drew up beside Cal and rested his hand on the small of his companion’s back.
“You’re so lucky to live here. To be able to see this anytime you want,” Cal said.
“I guess I’ve gotten used to it. I hardly notice how beautiful it is most of the time.”
“What’s that?”
He followed the trajectory of Cal’s outthrust arm, his pointed finger. “It’s the sky tram to Roosevelt Island. Did you see the first Spider-Man movie with Tobey Maguire? That’s where Kirsten Dunst gets stuck when she’s attacked by the Green Goblin.”
“Wow. I’d like to go up on that.”
“Our second date?” Brendan suggested.
Cal turned to him, and his mouth enveloped Brendan’s. Fireworks dazzled behind Brendan’s eyes, and the world may as well have peeled away, leaving him in some dream realm where nothing bad could touch him. Nothing bad was even possible. The kiss broke off gently, and Brendan remained shuttered from the world, head spinning. When he opened his eyes, Cal’s face was downcast.
“Was that too soon?” Cal asked. “I have a problem with impulse control.” He stole a glance at Brendan. “But I guess I did pretty okay, considering I’ve been wanting to do that ever since you walked into the store.”
Brendan held Cal by his firm and narrow waist and pressed up close. “I wouldn’t have minded. I’ve been a basket case wondering about you since we met.” He nuzzled his nose against Cal’s and kissed him softly on the cheek. Cal’s hands found the sides of Brendan’s shoulders.
“It’s up to you to make sure this doesn’t go too fast,” Cal told him.
That made Brendan chuckle.
“I’m serious,” Cal said. “I’ll ruin it completely. You know how gay men are—jumping into bed before they get to know each other.”
“I want to get to know you.” Brendan brushed his nose against the side of Cal’s head, breathing in his freshly washed hair, claiming an olfactory memory of him. “Where in heaven do guys like you come from?”
“Chariton, originally,” Cal said. “It’s a Podunk town near Ithaca. That’s where I was born.”
“Like Penelope in The Odyssey. I bet you’ve had even more suitors.”
“We only lived there until I was ten,” Cal said. “My dad got a job at an air conditioner factory in Syracuse, so we moved there. I never left. I even went to college in town. Syracuse University.”
Brendan led him by the hand to the walkway so they could stroll a bit while talking. That kiss had gotten his motor running, and he needed to move around and catch some air to help him be a gentleman like Cal had asked him to be. They headed downtown, toward the sky tram Cal liked, and kept to the pedestrian side of the walk while late-night joggers and bikers whooshed past them.
“Do you have brothers and sisters?” he asked.
“Seven. Can you believe that? I’m the youngest.”
This was curious territory for Brendan, who had practically grown up as an only child. His half sisters through his mother’s remarriage were over a decade younger than him. “What’s it like growing up in such a big family?”
“Crowded,” Cal said. “In Chariton, we had one room for the five boys and one room for the three girls. The house in Syracuse had a basement and a finished garage that my dad subdivided. We thought that was paradise. We only had to bunk two to a room.”
“Which one of your siblings do you like the most?”
“I like them all. I’m closest to my sister Genie. She’s one year older than me. My oldest brother, Sandy, can be a jerk sometimes. He’s the only one who had a problem when I told everyone I was gay.” Cal glanced at Brendan. “What was your family like?”
“It was a nonissue. My family is kind of that way. No one complains, and no one asks questions. I never really came out to my grandfather, but he doesn’t treat me any differently. I guess the real test will be when I bring a boyfriend home for Thanksgiving.”
“I bet your grandmother would love that,” Cal said.
Brendan exchanged the hand that was holding Cal’s so he could reach around to hold him by the waist. “She would love you.”
“Has she ever met a half Greek, quarter German, quarter Polish mutt who lives with five housemates so he can pay off his student loans?”
“She wouldn’t care about that,” Brendan said. “Does it bother you that my family has money?”
“I don’t think so,” Cal said. “Do a lot of guys come on to you because you do?”
“Sometimes. Probably not as often as most people think.”
They were quiet for a while, and then Cal posed a question. “Does it bother you that my family doesn’t have any money? I mean, we’re poor. Besides my uncle who owns the shop, none of us has ever been out of debt. I used to think that was normal. Like everyone in the world had to decide each month which bills they would pay and which bills they could let lapse. We never went on vacations, except to Greece a few times to visit family. I knew I couldn’t afford to spend this summer in New York, but I did it anyway. I figured it would work out somehow.”
“That doesn’t bother me.” Brendan drew Cal from the walkway to an overlook where they could gaze out at the glassy river again. They stood at a railing, clasping each other’s shoulders. Out on the water, a police dinghy clipped along the waterway beneath the giant girders of the Fifty-Ninth Street Bridge.
“I’m not going to be an asshole and say it’s hard being rich,” Brendan said. “But I don’t meet people who I can be myself with very often. There’s kind of everything and nothing expected of me at the same time. If that makes any sense. My grandmother always kept me grounded. She told me my only obligation in the world is to make it a better place. And that’s not something you can only do with money. Everyone’s contribution is important.”
Cal stared at him. “That’s beautiful.”
Brendan admired the way Cal’s wavy hair got tussled in the breeze. Desire overwhelmed him. He captured Cal’s mouth with his. They turned to face each other, and they necked like teenagers until they were breathless.
“I’m not doing very well at taking things slowly,” Brendan said.
Cal gathered his breath and grinned. “I haven’t made out like that since high school.”
/> “What was his name?”
“Victor Saltaformaggio. We lived on the same block, but we traveled in different circles. He was on the football team. I was secretary of Latin club. We did really popular things like make up Jeopardy questions in Latin to compete in tournaments with other schools. Anyway, Victor and I ended up walking home from school one day after the teams and clubs got out. Somehow we ended up in the old playground of our elementary school, and Victor dared me to kiss him behind the backboards.”
Brendan combed his hand through the side of Cal’s hair, imagining him as a younger, adorable nerd. “Victor was a lucky guy.”
“Not so lucky actually,” Cal said. “Victor was a total closet case. He even had a girlfriend named Brianne, and they were both seniors. I was just a sophomore.”
“Scandalous. So what happened to poor Victor Saltaformaggio?”
“Brianne found out, and she told everyone at school. Victor couldn’t handle it. He had some kind of mental breakdown, and he had to get his GED in New Jersey where he had relatives. He used to send me messages on Facebook. Creepy messages. With photos of his penis. I blocked him, but he kept using fakes names to find me. That’s part of the reason I quit Facebook.” Cal’s attention drifted away. “Come to think of it, it’s not such a romantic story. Probably freaks you out a bit, huh?”
“You destroyed the guy,” Brendan teased. He clasped Cal by the ribs. “You’re just too irresistible. How many other guys have you destroyed? Are you going to destroy me as well?”
Cal squirmed from his tickling touch. “That was like nine years ago. And it wasn’t my fault.”
Brendan held him gently. “You’ve already destroyed me, Callisthenes.”
Cal brushed the hair from Brendan’s forehead, gazed at him piercingly. “What do you want from me, Brendan Thackeray-Prentiss?”
He’d been doing so well holding himself together, but all of a sudden, Brendan’s eyes clenched shut. His heart was hovering over a blade.
“I want to take you home,” he said. “I want you to want that too. I want us to wake up in the morning without any second thoughts and knowing this is for real. And I know that’s impossible. We only just met, and neither of us can know for sure. But I wouldn’t hurt you, Cal. I wouldn’t stalk you. Or send you inappropriate photos.” His eyes burned, and a teardrop rivuleted down his cheek. “I’m not that kind of guy.”
Irresistible Page 3