A Kind of Romance

by Lane Hayes

  “Go on. You need to eat something. You’ll feel better,” he said.

  I popped the muffin in my mouth and waited for him to continue. When it became clear he was content to drink coffee and snack on a questionably stale muffin instead of acknowledging my apology, I became irritated.

  “Aren’t you going to say anything? I said I’m sorry. I don’t do that often. You could at least nod your head or something.”

  He shot me an annoyed look and nodded his head like a puppet on a string. “There. You happy?”

  “No. I’m a little miserable right now.”

  “You deserve it.”

  “Probably, but… I have a confession.”

  “What? You don’t remember a thing?”

  “No. I do. Because I wasn’t drunk last night. It’s true I consumed an unfortunate combo ranging from beer to vodka and gin and then wine, but that happened late in the game. I always knew what I was doing. I was tipsy but of mostly sound mind.”

  “You’re sure?” he asked sarcastically.

  “Yeah.” I rubbed the back of my neck and let out of stream of breath. “I don’t regret it, though.”

  “Then why apologize?”

  “You’re right. I’m not sorry at all. I rescind my apology. I’m glad I followed you and sabotaged your date, and I don’t even care that I made a monumental fool of myself in the process. If the end result is this—” I gestured between us meaningfully. “—I have no regrets.”

  Benny quirked his eyebrow and smiled, but the gesture didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Hmph.”

  “Whatsa matter? Don’t you believe me?”

  “I think you’re messing with me. Like I said, it was a lot of coincidence for a Friday night at your average cabaret bar.”

  “Maybe, but I’m not messing with you.” I let my fingers roam over his ear before leaning forward to place a chaste kiss on his parted lips. “You don’t really think I planned last night, do you?”

  “It occurred to me, but no. It’s too far-fetched. However, I do think you’re the kind of guy to use coincidence to your advantage. Somehow this fits in with your quest for revenge. Or it will.”

  “You really think I’m that heartless?”

  “I don’t know what to think,” he sighed. Our knees brushed as he turned toward me. That innocent touch of skin made me yearn for more. But I clearly had to convince him I wasn’t a monster first, I thought when he continued. “No. I think you’re used to operating for gain. It’s probably smart business. I’m just wondering how to make this even,” he said casually.

  “What do you mean?”

  “If you’re going to use me to get revenge on your asshole ex, I should get something in return.”

  “I’m not using you!” I snarled, slapping my hand on the granite island for emphasis. “And what kind of return are you talking about?”

  “A favor.”

  “Keep talking.”

  His eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint that made me instantly wary.

  “I need a date for my cousin’s wedding.” He crossed his arms and cocked his head in challenge. “Actually I need a boyfriend.”

  I gave him an incredulous stare and then swiped my hand over my stubbled jaw. “Wedding? Boyfriend?”

  “Yep. You in?”

  “Uh… well—why? You said you were going with your mom. And why do you need a boyfriend?”

  “Never mind. I’ll ask Eric,” he said offhandedly.

  “No.” I scowled. “I’ll go, but why do you want to bring a date?”

  Benny picked up his coffee mug and gave me a look I couldn’t read. “It’s a long story. Family stuff that wouldn’t make sense to anyone but those who know how the Ruggieris work.”

  “I know all about ‘behind the scenes’ family BS.”

  “It’s nothing bad. My cousin Angie is insisting I bring a date. She thinks I’m hiding in the open by not bringing guys around. Like I’m not proud of who I am.”

  “You seem very proud to me.”

  “I am. But you know family,” he said with a shrug. “In a way, she’s right. I keep them separate even though I don’t hide who I am.”

  “I get it.”

  “You do?”

  “Sure, it’s the same for me. My family hasn’t liked anyone I’ve been with since Carter, and we broke up years ago. But… you better ask me properly.”

  “Properly?”

  I nodded and gave him my best blank stare. “Yes. Properly. Something like, ‘Zeke, you’re a hundred times better-looking than that schlep I was gonna ask, and chances are you’ve got a nice tux or two in your closet so—’”

  “But you owe me!”

  “I do?” I broke off a piece of his muffin and popped it between his lips with a flourish. Suddenly I was back in the driver’s seat.

  “For fuck’s sake… all I’m asking is for you to play a part for one night. If you think about it, we should be getting good at this by now. Between our pretend dates and the half-dozen times you’ve randomly announced we’re boyfriends over the last few days, I’d say it’s practically believable.”

  “So ask me nicely,” I insisted with a teasing grin.

  He growled and clenched his teeth before adopting a faux syrupy tone. “Will you please attend my cousin’s wedding with me, Zeke?”

  “I’d be honored.” I waited for him to look into my eyes before I continued. “But we should probably practice at this boyfriend thing. You know… to get in the mood.”

  Benny snickered as he leaned into me. “What do you propose?”

  “Kiss me.”

  “That’s it? Just a kiss?” He licked his lips and inched close enough that our knees bumped.

  “For now… yes.”

  I reached out and ran my thumb along his jawline. His normally smooth chin was scruffy. I’d always liked scruff on a guy. Especially in the morning. Just the brush of my cheek against Taylor’s used to make me hard. And as the differences flickered through my mind, I realized my attraction to Benny had nothing to do with having a “type.” Benny was nothing like Taylor. One man oozed testosterone, and the other had the faintest smudge of eyeliner under his lashes. Maybe it was a simple matter of liking him. Benny was… refreshing. He made me laugh, and he didn’t shy away from a fight.

  I pulled him from his barstool so he stood between my thighs. Then I tilted his chin and licked his bottom lip before covering his mouth. The connection was light, but damn, it was perfect. Thoughts of writhing naked with him in my bed flooded my memory. Maybe it defied expectation, but it was hard to ignore the physical pull. We fit. Like a puzzle piece or a missing song lyric. I licked his lips in a request for entry and deepened the kiss. I let my hands roam over his shoulders and down his back before resting them on his pert ass. When we parted for air, I ran my fingers through his hair and pressed a chaste kiss on his forehead.

  “So maybe we should go back to bed… to solidify the arrangement. You know, like a handshake.”

  Benny snorted and pulled out of my arms. “Way to ruin a moment.”

  “Sorry.”

  “You’re not sorry. I know what you’re doing. You don’t want me to get the wrong idea, so your plan is to occasionally say offensive things to remind me why I’d be a complete idiot to think you’d be a candidate for a ‘real’ boyfriend. Am I correct?”

  If I was completely honest, I’d conceded there was an element of truth in his statement, but I’d been around the block a couple of times. Admitting it wouldn’t ingratiate me to him. I gave him a smug grin instead and smacked his ass.

  “Don’t be rude. I’m a gentleman.”

  “I know your type, Zeke. And you, my friend, are no gentleman. Don’t get me wrong. You’re a good guy. But keeping score is your number one goal. You threw me off track last night until you saw your ex. That’s when I realized you have revenge on your mind. Step one, jealousy.”

  “We already established that nothing about last night was orchestrated, drama boy. It just happened. Don’t let your
imagination go wild here.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I seriously doubt your old boyfriend believed I’m your new boyfriend,” he scoffed. “And I don’t think we’ll fool my family either.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because we’re nothing alike. People who think they know us will be suspicious. They have preconceived notions about us and who we’re supposed to be with. Take me, for instance… my mom thinks I’ll end up with an artist. Maybe someone in the fashion industry or in theater. She thinks I’m drawn to volatile types who can quote Sartre and like to binge-watch Mad Men.”

  I chuckled as I slid my foot between his and rested my hand on his hip. “I don’t have time to binge-watch anything, but I can quote Albert Camus. Will that work or am I out of the running?”

  “You won’t fool my mom. She’ll know your overall television ignorance means we’re doomed. Hit me with some Camus and let’s see if it makes up where you’re lacking in entertainment prowess.”

  “Hey! According to most people, I’m a catch!”

  “I’m sure, but zero knowledge about the entertainment world is a tough sell.”

  “I got plenty of entertainment prowess,” I said with a purposefully thickened accent.

  “Right. You were going to quote Camus, I believe.”

  I cleared my throat dramatically and spoke in a low, serious tone. “‘Man is the only creature who refuses to be what he is.’ That’s from The Stranger, in case you’re curious.” I expected him to let me have it for being a know-it-all or a good old-fashioned geek. When he remained silent, I lifted his chin and pressed a small kiss on his lips. “Whatsa matta? You don’t like it?”

  “I like it,” he replied in a soft voice. “I just didn’t expect it.”

  “I have an Ivy League education, Benjamin. And occasionally, I can prove it.”

  He chuckled at my silly brag and wiggled close so our semihard cocks rubbed through our briefs. I groaned at the contact and then buried my face in the crevice of his shoulder and blew a raspberry. He giggled helplessly and tried to push me away. “Stop!”

  “Nope. Not ’til you say ‘Zeke Gulden is the smartest guy I know.’ Go on.”

  “Ugh! You’re an idiot!”

  “Wrong answer.”

  I tickled him mercilessly until he was gasping for breath. “Stop!”

  “Truce. Pinky promise.” I extended my pinky finger and wrapped it around his before pulling him against me until he lay his head on my chest. “Don’t go. I like you, Benny Ravioli. Spend the day with me.”

  “Ravioli?” Benny chuckled and wrapped his arms around my neck.

  “Yeah. What do you feel like doing next? How about a game of pool.” I nuzzled his chin and nipped at his ear before adding, “Naked.”

  “Mmm. I don’t think—”

  “Loser owes the winner a blowjob. Prepare to get schooled, baby,” I teased.

  Benny’s laughter sounded like a long-forgotten melody to a song I’d once known well. It was happy, light, and joyful, and at that moment, I wanted nothing more than be with him. No agenda, no expectation, no promises.

  WE SPENT the rest of the day together. I tried to teach him how to play pool, but a naked Benny was just too damn distracting. I ended up with my back to the wall and my hands in his hair as he sucked me to oblivion. I returned the favor a short time later in the shower. And when he claimed he had to go home to change clothes as I dried his hair with a towel afterward, I assured him I could find something for him to borrow. We laughed hysterically at the small black T-shirt I found in my drawer for him to wear. It was positively gigantic on him. I thought he might insist on leaving, but he smiled brightly and made an offhand comment about it being the perfect “boyfriend” tee. I chuckled at his teasing banter, but truthfully, I liked seeing him in my clothes, moving around my bedroom and pointing out where he thought I could use a little bling. It made me smile.

  Eventually, we went out for a late lunch slash early dinner at a tiny bistro on my street. We sat outside at a cozy table for two, sipping a superior Pinot while we talked about our favorite shops and where to find the best cappuccino in the city. It was light, silly banter. The kind that sometimes tells you more about the person you’re with than probing questions do. For instance, I asked Benny if he’d been to a new clothing store on Spring Street that a well-known designer had opened, featuring haute couture menswear. His eyes twinkled as he shook his head.

  “No, but I’d love to meet the owner of the shop next door to it.”

  My forehead creased in confusion. “The place with the gowns in the window?”

  “They’re gorgeous! She has impeccable taste.”

  “Do you know how to make those kind of dresses?”

  “Yes. I love working with luxe materials and finding the perfect color to accentuate curves in the right places. It’s like magic!”

  “Why didn’t you finish at Parsons instead of NYU? They have a better program for design.”

  He stared after a beautiful young woman wearing impossibly high heels who walked by our table carrying a tiny Yorkie in her coat pocket. I sensed he was trying to decide how to answer me, so I didn’t push. I watched him instead. His posture was perfect. He almost looked like he was posing for a picture with his right leg crossed and his head cocked slightly to the left. The way he ran his fingers along the stem of his wineglass seemed sexy somehow. Graceful yet provocative.

  “My family needed my help when my grandmother got sick. I didn’t have the time to put into projects, and after a while I didn’t enjoy it. It was too much pressure, and I couldn’t keep up. I’m happy doing the odd commissions that come along, and I love doing style work for Isaac, Rand’s guitarist. For now, it’s enough. As long as I can do something creative every day, I’m happy.”

  “So on a day you don’t sew or design something, what do you do for a creative outlet?”

  “I sew or sketch every day. If I’m still not satisfied, I usually color my hair.”

  He held my gaze for a moment before we both burst into laughter. I didn’t know what was so damn funny, though. He was being honest. I’d seen the evidence of his creative frustration. And I respected him for finding an unconventional way to express himself in a world that didn’t always appreciate a unique approach.

  “Why are you staring at me?” he asked in a bashful tone.

  I shrugged and pursed my lips. “You’re kinda… colorful.”

  “That sounds like a backhanded compliment.”

  I reached for his hand and impulsively kissed his fingers. “It’s a real one, Ben. You’re one of a kind.”

  Benny’s smile was radiant. In spite of the borrowed black T-shirt and dark jeans, he was the very definition of color. I loved the way his hot Italian temper gave way to infectious laughter in flashes of red and blue. He was vibrant and passionate and then cool and thoughtful. But never boring. I couldn’t look away if I tried.

  “YOU’RE ALIVE.”

  I glanced at my cell irritably and sank back on my comfy sofa. There was a baseball game on but I’d muted the sound on the television an hour ago in favor of a Sunday evening catnap. I blinked as I reached for the remote control.

  “I am indeed. What’s up? Need to borrow some sugar?” I teased.

  “I’m checking in on you, asshole,” Carter huffed. “Like a good friend. The kind that doesn’t leave their best friend at a fucking cabaret bar with their loser ex!”

  “You’re yelling.”

  “Can you blame me? I’ve been texting you. What happened with you and the cute guy? Benny, right? Give me the scoop.”

  “Scoop? What are we, sorority sisters or somethin’?”

  “Don’t play dumb. I’m curious. Did he spend the night?”

  “Yes, and he stayed for coffee.”

  “Your coffee isn’t that good,” Carter said scornfully.

  “And he spent the day. The end.”

  “Ahh.”

  I let the silence stretch and tuned in to the action on the screen.
The Yankees were up in the bottom of the seventh. I was about to fill Carter in on the score when he spoke again.

  “I like him.”

  “You can’t have him.”

  Carter chuckled. “Hey, if nothing else, it was priceless to see Taylor’s reaction when you picked up that microphone,” Carter guffawed. “He looked mighty jealous. You knew he’d be at Gypsy last night, didn’t you? You’re a crafty bastard, Gulden.”

  I furrowed my brow and sat up. “I didn’t know. It just… happened.”

  “I’m glad it did, and if your motive was to stick it to that fuckhead… well done. You got him.”

  I didn’t respond. Carter knew me well. It wasn’t odd that my friend assumed I had an evil plan for vengeance all along. Hell, Benny picked up on the same thing, and he hadn’t known me more than a couple weeks. I worked in a cutthroat, high-stress environment. There was no room for playing nice. If you didn’t stay on your toes, you wouldn’t last a week in my world. There was always someone watching and waiting for the sign of weakness that spelled certain demise. Keeping an eye on all angles was crucial to success. A fuzzy memory resurfaced of Taylor telling me to come get him. It was the invitation I’d wanted a month ago. But now… I wasn’t so sure.

  BENNY WARNED me several times in the days before his cousin’s wedding that traditional Italian weddings weren’t for the faint of heart. He told me to expect a full Catholic Mass, then a brief luncheon followed by an enormous reception in Brooklyn…. Park Slope to be exact.

  “That’s where I’m from,” I said into my Bluetooth as I finished typing an e-mail.

  “Right. I remember George telling me that. Hoity-toity.”

  I huffed a half laugh. “I don’t know about that, but it’s a nice neighborhood. A good place to raise a family.”

  “Do your brothers live near your dad?”

  “Yeah. I’m the rebel with the slick city job, fancy suits, and fast cars. The rest of them are more concerned with school districts, playdates, and eco-friendly SUVs roomy enough to fit soccer crap and car seats.”

  “Does that tone mean you never want to be a daddy?”