“I know, but back then her life was fucked up like mine, and I thought Patrick would be, you know, a good influence. He was lonely and law school was stressing him out. They weren’t supposed to fall in love. And Tracey wasn’t supposed to get her act together and be the all-perfect trophy wife. My mother is literally obsessed with her. All I hear is ‘Tracey loves to cook. You should ask her to teach you’ and ‘Tracey bought the cutest dress. You should have her take you shopping.’ Yesterday, she told me I might want to follow the same diet plan as Tracey because I don’t want to be the fat bridesmaid.”
I laughed. Kayla’s mother may have been hypercritical of Kayla’s choices, but the woman was far too proper to insult someone’s appearance. “Kayla, stop. Esther Anderson would never call anyone fat.”
“Fine, but she was thinking it. Plus, Patrick wants them to marry at the same church where my parents got married. You know my mother will ambush me with a blind date every weekend until this wedding. God forbid her chubby, spinster daughter doesn’t have a proper beau for her little brother’s wedding.”
“Aww. That’s so cute.”
“What is?”
“That you think I’m buying any of this.”
“Did it work?”
“Yes. I am calmer now. Thank you.”
“Why do you make me play these little distraction games, Kyle? You’re forty. Grow up. I hate you.”
“I love you too. Tell your parents, Patrick and Tracey that I said hello.”
“You can tell them yourself. Patrick is proposing at brunch this Sunday. Bottomless mimosas… You’ll come and be my designated driver. And don’t tell me it’s a family thing because, as my father put it, ‘Invite Kyle. The gays love brunch.’”
I barked out a laugh. Kayla’s father, Mitch, had been slow to warm when he thought Kayla and I might be an item. After he discovered how wrong he was, my being gay became almost a fascination to him, and Mitch liked to impress me with how down with my people he could be.
“So, talk to him?” I asked.
“Yes, simple. Just talk. It’ll be fine.”
“He might not be in my class.”
“He is,” she said confidently. Too confidently.
“How do you know?”
“I have my ways.”
“Kayla Sue Anderson, you tell me immediately.”
Her sigh served as confirmation. “Tommy Bruiser has a Twitter. He posted information about his class schedule.”
“You follow him on Twitter?”
“Yes, and before you ask, I knew it when I signed you up. It’s one class, Kyle. You needed a push. You haven’t been that excited about a guy since Matt. You don’t have to marry him. Have a fling. Get you some summer lovin’.”
“I will never forgive you for this as long as I live.”
“Oh, okay,” she mocked, and I knew her eyes were rolling. Lifetime grudges lost a bit of oomph after more than fifty threats. “I think Lucas should donate the sperm. I mean, we’re both hot as hell and blue-eyed, you’d be practically guaranteed the cutest kids on the planet. Talk it over. Let me know. I can get some eggs frozen next week. I’m not getting any younger, you know?”
“Kayla…” I whined.
“Go to class, Kyle. It will be fine. You should be more sex-positive. This is good for you.”
“What in the hell is that supposed to mean? Are you calling me uptight?”
“Kyle. Sweetheart. Angel. I’ve met nuns more comfortable with sexual expression. If it feels good and no one is getting hurt, enjoy it. And I love you too.”
I said goodbye to Kayla and took a deep breath. My little meltdown had eroded all my spare minutes, and my T-shirt had prominent pit stains and a small hole I hadn’t noticed before. No way could I face Lucas dressed like a bum. I dug into my bag and freed my work shirt, applied deodorant, brushed my hair and ran the shirt under the hand dryer until it was dry and presentable. It wasn’t the best I’d ever looked, but at least I didn’t look like a homeless guy.
I rushed to the Business Building. Unfamiliar with the room layout, I took a few wrong turns before finding myself outside the correct door. Working to calm myself again, I took a deep breath, checked under my arms and wished I’d had some cologne or body spray. All I wanted was to open the door and slide quickly into a seat in the last row, undetected. I could hear the lecture clearly, so my chances that it was a big lecture hall were slim to nil.
I eased the door open and roughly fifteen heads turned to stare. My cheeks heated to molten lava and I apprised the intimate classroom, which was closer to the size found in a high school. Shifting my bag from my back to carry at my side, I muttered an apology to the professor and slid, wholly mortified, into the first available seat in the front row. I didn’t have time to locate Lucas and lacked the courage to search beyond subtle side glances. Maybe Kayla was wrong. Or oh, God… What if I was in the wrong class?
A brief glance to my side and my neighbor’s textbook set my mind at ease. My tardiness didn’t appear to bother the professor, but he didn’t offer me a spare copy of the syllabus he’d handed out, either. I listened and jotted down notes without enough context while he reviewed the papers for the rest of the class who’d arrived on time. For a summer class, the pace was intense. Our grade was comprised solely of projects and presentations that were due nearly every week. The instructor, whose name escaped me, sounded almost gleeful while he reiterated how much work we’d be doing. He gave a brief lecture on the meaning of entrepreneurship and types of business models from a sole proprietorship to LLCs. He finished on the topic of partnerships and introduced the first assignment.
“On the back, you will find your partner listed for the group project. Now, we did have one student drop already. Let’s see… Mr. Cass, you are without a partner for the first project. So, please pair up with Group Three for now. If we have another student drop, we can match you with the other single. There is always a bit of shuffling after the first assignment.”
The sound of Lucas’ voice affirming the professor’s instruction came from behind me. I turned in my seat to find Lucas, all perfect, biting his bottom lip. He smirked at me. Unlike mine, his face appeared relaxed, his expression somewhere between amused and mischievous, which I would later discover meant he was feeling playful—not tickle-war playful, more cat and mouse. It made me nervous. When I get nervous, I have to pee.
“How are you, Kyle?” he asked, all calm and sexy while I shifted in the hard seat. While other students were moving desks and greeting their partners, Lucas held my stare as if the rest of the world didn’t exist.
“I’m good,” I squeaked, to his obvious amusement. “How are you?”
“Oh, best night of the summer so far. When did you change majors?”
“I haven’t.” I cleared my throat. “Um, I’m exploring.”
“Oh?” Lucas’ eyebrow peaked. “Just checking out business marketing and decided to take the hardest intro class in the major with the hardest professor?”
“I didn’t—” I cleared my throat again, and Lucas offered me his reusable water bottle. I took it and sipped it too fast. His smile grew when I choked a little. “I didn’t realize it was so hard.”
“Oh, it’s hard all right.” Lucas laughed with a purposeful glance down. “Well, I guess we should partner up now.”
“Part—?” I stopped when a man tapped my shoulder.
“Are you Kyle?” he asked, clearly annoyed for some— Oh, right, the class. Jesus, I will kill Kayla.
I turned back to Lucas, but he’d already migrated to his own group.
“So?” the man asked again.
“Yeah. Kyle.” I shook my head to clear thoughts of Lucas. “Yes, sorry. I’m Kyle.”
“Good. I’m Steve. You want to talk about this first project or what, dude?”
“Sure, okay.” Steve talked and I half-listened. Our first assignment was to pitch an idea to our partner. We were supposed to talk about why we were in the class, what our strengths were and convince the other pe
rson to buy into our concept. Each group would only present one plan. The originator of the proposal would introduce their idea, and their partner would offer a critique.
The instructor, who Steve called Dr. Mandell, reiterated that the activity was a participation exercise only, rather than a formal grade, which took some of the pressure off. I managed a weak argument about my years of experience in the construction industry but failed to articulate an actual business strategy or apply any concepts from the first reading, which I hadn’t known to do. Steve, on the other hand, had grown up working in his parents’ bakery, and he’d been thinking through his cupcake shop design for years. We put our presentation notes together rather quickly. Although, the raucous laughter from Lucas’ group did not help my concentration.
Dr. Mandell assigned the group presentation orders. Steve and I were chosen to go first. While Steve waxed poetic about cupcakes, I stood in front of the class melting under Lucas’ stare. I angled my body away from him and focused on Dr. Mandell, which helped. Then I managed to deliver my critique with an acceptable level of coherence. Polite applause and Dr. Mandell’s nod of approval followed our presentation.
When I retook my seat, I noticed my desk had been moved. I twisted in the attached chair to confirm my position, and sure enough, Lucas’ mischievous grin was substantially closer than it had been before. He leaned back and suddenly, Lucas’ flip-flop clad feet were on the back of my seat and he wedged his toes under my ass and wiggled. Surprised, I shot forward, which caused the metal feet to scrape loudly across the floor. The presenters stopped and stared at me while Lucas choked back laughter.
When the presenters resumed speaking, I faced Lucas, intending to express my irritation, but one glimpse at his perfect white teeth biting on his lower lip and I caved. Damn that smile of his. I found myself smiling back before facing the front of the class.
During Lucas’ group’s turn, I wasn’t surprised to learn Lucas had originated their concept. Lucas could probably have sold ice to Eskimos with his charisma.
“Good evening, all. My name is Lucas Cass, and I’m in the adult entertainment industry. Specifically, the gay adult entertainment industry. The porn industry is worth around ninety-seven billion dollars and each year produces more than thirteen thousand films netting over ten billion dollars in profit. Who among us has not indulged in porn at least one time in our lives?”
He paused, scrutinized the room and made direct eye contact with every red-faced person, including me, before he continued. “Pirating and the proliferation of social media and cam sites have impacted the industry’s profitability while, at the same time, offering an individual performer more opportunity than ever to create a personal brand.
“I have nearly two hundred thousand followers on my social media platforms. This led me to obtain promotional deals with both adult toy companies and a popular underwear brand. I regularly receive fees for club appearances. Eventually, I am hoping to obtain my degree so that I can start a business where I help other performers create and promote their brands. I’d also like to start a company which would produce and market adult toys specifically for men. I’ll let these hetero guys”—he pointed to his partners—“explain why this is a good idea. Basically, to sum up, if you’ve never had your prostate stimulated, y’all are missing out.” The other men in Lucas’ group cracked up and Lucas flashed a toothy smile at them and winked.
Dr. Mandell cleared his throat. I surveyed the room, expecting to see everyone shifting uncomfortably, but realized the only ones struggling with Lucas’ business topic were me and Dr. Mandell. Everyone else wore expressions that ranged from entertained to intrigued. I suddenly felt very, very old.
Lucas’ group finished their presentation, but I had stopped listening to frantically text Kayla.
I’m so old.
We’re the same age, jerk.
No…like I act old. Is porn not taboo anymore?
What are you talking about?
Lucas told the entire class he does porn, and the only ones that seem remotely disturbed by this are me and the professor, who must be at least sixty.
Relax. You’re overthinking this. You like him. Talk to him.
I don’t think I can. He’s too much for me.
Well, you won’t know that until you try to put him in. Don’t be a baby.
Ugh. I hate you. Seriously. What should I do?
Use lube. Lots of lube.
I hate you so much
No, you don’t. Talk to him.
Maybe if I didn’t answer, she would give up.
Kyle, talk to him.
Seriously, don’t ignore me. Are you going to talk to Lucas?
What’s happening? Why are you not responding?
She obviously wasn’t giving up.
I’m in class. Stop.
Your class ended five minutes ago. Talk to him.
“Kyle.” Lucas laughed. “You okay?”
Lucas stood over me in a nearly empty classroom.
I dropped my phone and he squatted to retrieve it, using my thigh to steady himself. He smirked as he handed me my phone. “Careful… You don’t want to break this.”
A text dinged, and he glanced at the screen in the split second it took for me to yelp, yank my phone out of his hand and shove it into my bag. “Th-thanks,”
“You’re not going to check that?”
“No.” I swept my other belongings into my bag. I got a nose full of Lucas as he rose to his feet, and I was struck by an intense desire to inhale him like fresh laundry. I needed air. Lucas-free air.
“Okay, but someone named Kayla wants to know if you talked to me.”
“No,” I repeated too harshly.
“You aren’t going to talk to me?”
“I…uh… I need to go.”
“Okay,” Lucas stepped back and offered me his hand to stand. “I’ll walk with you.”
“You can’t.” I ignored his extended hand and stood.
He lifted an eyebrow. “I can’t?” His stance and silence issued a challenge, but I didn’t even dare a breath with Lucas so close. Finally, with a crooked smile, he stepped aside and gestured for me to walk ahead of him.
I bolted toward the door, his soft chuckle twisting my gut. Without turning around, I knew Lucas trailed behind me. My every sense became heightened by his proximity.
Halfway to the parking lot, I slowed then turned. “Why are you following me?”
Lucas smiled, and he placed his hands in the air. “Chill. I’m walking to my car.”
“You’re all…” I flailed my arms at him. He didn’t try to hide his amusement at how flustered I was. “Stop being all stealthy.”
“Not stealthy. Quiet. You said you didn’t want to talk to me.”
I closed my mouth and stared. Damn, that probably sounded way more asshole-ish than I’d intended. “It’s not… I didn’t mean…”
“Okay.” Lucas smirked. “So, you want to get some coffee?”
“It’s late.”
A quick suck of his teeth and a shake of his head made it clear he’d lost patience. He pouted briefly then turned and walked away.
“Wait.”
Lucas stopped but didn’t turn around. He sighed and said, “Look, Kyle. I’m only gonna take so many swings at this ball.” He turned to face me and his frown punched me right in the gut. I hated being responsible for that look.
“I meant that it’s too late for coffee. I already had some before class. Any more and I won’t sleep. I’m not twenty anymore.”
Lucas tilted his head and stared guardedly.
Okay, then. I gathered he’d passed me the proverbial bat. “How ’bout a beer? The bar and grill down the street should still be open.”
“That place with the red awning?” Optimism lifted the tone of his voice, and I instantly second-guessed my offer.
“Yeah.” I breathed relief because his smile was back. “Would that be okay?
“Down, boy. You don’t have to beg. I’ll let you buy me a drink
.”
I chuckled. “Meet you there?”
“Yep.” With a small hop, Lucas turned and rushed back toward the classroom.
“Wait! Where are you going?”
“Oh.” Lucas laughed and turned to face me but kept walking backward. He gestured with a thumb over his shoulder. “Strangest thing. I just now, at this very moment, realized I’m parked in the other parking lot.” He shrugged like his ruse to follow me hadn’t been blown to bits.
Flattered, I couldn’t help but laugh and shake my head. Why did he have to be so damn adorable?
“I’ll see you there, Kyle,” he yelled as he jogged away.
I did my very best not to freak out on my way to meet Lucas. One drink, I reminded myself while I navigated the back roads from campus to the main street. “Just don’t be a weirdo,” I delivered my pep-talk to the rearview mirror. “One drink. No big deal.” So what if his smile makes my heart skip? I turned the wheel, taking a left into the parking lot.
Presuming I’d beat Lucas there, I parked and waited. I closed my eyes and took several deep breaths to stay calm. When I opened them, I yelped. On the other side of my window, Lucas’ lips were nearly pressed against the glass. He pulled back, laughing.
I reached for the door handle but Lucas beat me to it and opened my door.
“You okay?” Lucas asked, his hand brushing across my lower back when I stepped away to close the door.
“Fine,” I lied and walked toward the entrance, leaving Lucas behind.
He hurried to my side and looped his arm through mine. “It’s okay if my beauty intimidates you.” He batted his eyelashes to show me that he was kidding.
I huffed out a quick breath and nervously untangled our arms. “You’re a modest one, aren’t you?”
Lucas beamed at me and tugged on my shirttail to slow my pace. I turned to face him and a nearly empty parking lot. He cupped his palm over my cheek and forced me to make eye contact. “I’m a hopeful guy, Kyle. Now, are you going to let me get to know you?”
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