“Yeah,” he replied, “sorry about earlier; my boss is a real bitch.”
“I gathered as much,” I said, nodding at Greg as he walked past us toward the locker room.
“So, you’re not working tonight?” Clint asked, shifting the conversation away from his horrible boss.
“Nope,” I replied, looking around at the bar which was half-empty, “and I’m glad to be off as it doesn’t look like it’s going to be very busy tonight, which means not a lot of action and very few tips.”
“Well,” Clint replied, “do you have any plans?”
Taking a sip of my drink, I shook my head and answered, “Well, I had plans to work out with someone earlier, but that didn’t work out so well.”
He reached over and playfully pushed my shoulder, causing me to spill a little of my drink on myself.
“Hey!” I said, reaching down to wipe it away.
“I can make it up to you,” Clint replied, gesturing toward the door. “Why don’t we go for a walk and maybe have a drink?”
Looking up from my glass, I tried my best to guess what his intentions were, but it was becoming abundantly clear. He was moving our relationship past The Warehouse and past the gym; he wanted to take it further.
“Well,” I replied, wanting to say yes but feeling hesitant about his current situation. “What about Kelly; won’t she mind?”
“No,” Clint answered. “She went out to the Hamptons for the night to visit her sister. I’m supposed to head out there over the next couple of days, but I’m dreading it.”
“Why?” I asked, even though I already knew what the answer would be.
From the moment I had first seen them together, I could tell that there was no chemistry between them. Clint had mentioned that they had only been dating for a couple of weeks, so I began to wonder if I should feel so guilty about spending time with him.
He shrugged his shoulders and said, “I’m just not sure if it’s working out. We’ve only been seeing each other for a short period of time, and I don’t know yet…”
“So why are you going out to the Hamptons?” I asked. “Just to spend some time on the beach?”
“Something like that,” he said. “She’s a great girl, and I don’t want to hurt her feelings. But, from my perspective, things are coming to an end.”
“She’s a great girl?” I asked. “Come on, Clint, you don’t have to lie to me; you can be honest.”
“Well,” he said, “I’m not sure if you’ noticed the other night when she was here, but she’s kind of a drag sometimes.”
“Believe me,” I replied, raising my glass to my lips to take another sip. “I got that.”
“Oh?” he asked. “Was it that obvious?”
I nodded my head but kept quiet, not wanting to say anything bad about someone that I really didn’t know.
“I just want to give it another week or two, just to see how things go,” he said, rising to his feet as if to signal that he wanted to leave.
I’m not sure why you would want to do that, I thought. If you’re unhappy with someone after two weeks, it’s not likely that you’ll be happy with them after three weeks.
“You’re avoiding my question,” he said with a cocky smile. “Do you want to go for a walk or not?”
Rising to my feet, I looked him directly in his gorgeous eyes and said, “I thought the offer was for a drink.”
He laughed and replied, “That was part of the offer, yes. You’ll have to keep your eye on me though, as I haven’t had any drinks in a very long time and I’m not sure how I’ll react.”
“I can keep my eye on you,” I replied, lifting my glass to my lips and chugging the rest of its contents down in one gulp. Slamming it down on the table, I added, “I’ve had my eye on you since the first night you walked in here.”
“Oh?” he asked, placing his hand on my shoulders as he guided me toward the door.
As I started to make my way toward the door, I noticed that Greg had joined Allen behind the bar. He gestured for us to sit down and have a drink, but I knew that I wanted some alone time with Clint.
“We’re heading out,” I said, trying to keep my smile neutral, but not doing a very good job of it.
“So, there’s absolutely no way I can convince you to stay here tonight and work for me?” Greg asked, feigning his best pouty face.
“No way,” I replied with a wink, heading toward the door.
Pushing the door open, I felt the cool evening air brush against my face and I turned back to see Clint close behind.
“Where are we heading?” I asked, looking up at the flashing neon sign which read The Warehouse.
“Wherever you want to go,” he replied, placing his hand on my back again and allowing me to lead the way.
9
The evening air was perfectly cool and damp, just the way I liked it. I was wearing my favorite sweater, and over the course of the past few years, I had come to acknowledge it as my lucky sweater. Walking next to Clint, I knew that it was bringing me luck in ways I could have never imagined.
“How long have you lived in the city?” Clint asked, making his first attempt to get to know something truly personal about me.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that – since we had first met – most of our conversations had been pretty basic; in a good way. I understood that he was attached to someone and, as such, he was probably nervous to put himself out there and get to know me; especially considering the fact that he’s straight and I’m a gay guy.
“Not very long,” I replied. “I grew up in a small, conservative town and I needed something more so I decided to spread my wings out a bit.”
Clint chuckled and replied, “And spread them you did. Do you enjoy working at The Warehouse?”
“I really love it,” I replied, looking around at the scenery as we walked.
Noticing a bar on the next block, Clint pointed and said, “Let’s stop in there for a drink.”
We walked through the doors and, upon entering, I could tell that it was a typical, average bar, likely frequented by drunken straight people on nights when it was busier. However, it was slow and steady, and I was happy to see that we’d be able to talk without too many people standing around. I was willing to guess that it probably made Clint slightly more comfortable too.
Walking up to the bartender, I ordered a whiskey and Coke as Clint said he’d have the same thing. I didn’t know if he was humoring me, or just trying to be a good sport, but I loved when a guy drank whiskey.
“What’s your favorite part about working at The Warehouse?” he asked.
I could tell that he was genuinely interested in my job there, and I knew that it must have been an unusual thing for a traditional, straight guy like him. As a matter of fact, it was a lot to consider for some of the gay men I knew as well. Despite the progress we’ve made over time, and the open-minded attitude most people had in New York City, there was still some stigma surrounding dancing in the nude for money.
“I love the openness of it,” I answered confidently, watching as the bartender made our drinks. “Don’t get me wrong, I love places like this where I can come and just relax with an easy drink, but for me, the thrill of dancing really excites me, gets my blood pumping, and allows me to explore my sexuality.”
“What about your family?” he asked, obviously referring to the fact that I danced naked and wondering if some people might have a problem with that.
“What about them?” I asked defiantly, clearly implying that I didn’t care what they thought.
“Point taken,” he said with a smile as the bartender brought our drinks over to us.
We turned and walked toward a small table in a far corner of the back of the bar, knowing that we’d have some privacy there. Still, I could see Clint glancing around nervously, presumably checking to see if there was anyone he knew standing around.
“Relax,” I said, sensing his apprehension. “Didn’t you say she’s in the Hamptons?
“Kelly
?” he asked. “Yes, she’s…in the Hamptons.”
“When are you going to do it?” I asked, taking the first sip of my drink.
“You mean when am I heading out there?” he asked. “Probably tomorrow, but nothing’s set in stone yet.”
“No,” I replied, shaking my head, “I meant, when are you going to break up with her? Why are you doing this to yourself?”
“You want the honest answer?”
Nodding my head emphatically, I replied, “Yes.”
“Well,” he said with a heavy sigh, “the truth is, I come from a conservative town, just like you. I was raised to want the right things: a family, kids, all that stuff. Kelly seems like she wants the same things.”
“But,” I replied, confused by his response, “you’re not sure if you truly want those things or not, right?”
“Something like that,” he mumbled, raising his glass to his lips and gulping down half of its contents. “At least, I’m not sure if I want it with her.”
“Clint,” I said, shaking my head to make my point, “you’re young…very young. You don’t need to worry about those things yet.”
“Well, that’s the thing,” he replied. “I’m starting to date girls who are around my age; they’re starting to look toward their late twenties, and some of them are thinking about starting families. Maybe not right away, but that’s what they’re thinking about for their futures. So, not only am I dealing with pressure from my own family; I’m dealing with pressure from these girls.”
“These girls?” I asked, reaching over and playfully nudging him. “How many of them are you dating?”
“You know what I mean,” he answered. “They’re all looking toward that future.”
“And you’re not sure if –”
“Exactly,” he said, interrupting me before I could finish. “I’m not sure if I’m ready for it yet.”
“That’s not what I was going to say,” I replied with a cheeky smile. “I was going to say: you’re not sure if you want those things with a woman.”
I knew that what I had just said was extremely risky. If I had learned anything about straight guys in my life, it was that they did not want to be confronted with the possibility of being attracted to another man. If anything, they preferred to keep the thought as far away from their minds as possible, not allowing themselves the opportunity to think about their true sexual desires.
I had known all my life that straight men were raised to be concerned with their masculinity; therefore, I thought it was chancy of me to be so direct with him.
“What do you mean?” he asked, demurring from the question as if I wouldn’t notice.
“Clint,” I said, starting to feel the effects of my drink.
I hadn’t had much to eat that day, and the alcohol was rushing through my body quickly.
“Yeah?” he asked, staring down at the table as if he wasn’t sure how to answer me.
“What’s the reason you came by to see me tonight?” I asked, hoping to take a more indirect approach.
“Well,” he replied, “I felt really guilty about not being able to train with you today, and I wanted to apologize for my boss’s behavior.”
“You don’t need to apologize for her,” I said. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m trying to get to the bottom of why you want to see me.”
He looked as if he had no idea what to say, and I felt somewhat guilty for putting him on the spot, but I wanted some answers. Every time I was near him, I felt the type of butterflies I hadn’t felt in a long while, and I needed – and deserved – to know if something wonderful could develop from it.
“I just think you seem like a nice guy,” he replied, obviously not wanting to be direct. “You have an interest in fitness and so do I.”
“I see,” I replied, chugging the rest of my drink in one large gulp.
I don’t know what came over me, but I quickly became frustrated with our conversation. It was obvious that Clint was not going to be honest about why he wanted to see me, and I suddenly got the feeling that I was wasting my time trying to convince someone to like me, or at least to be honest about why he liked me.
“I should probably head home,” I replied, rising to my feet and grabbing my bag from the back of the chair. “I have some things to take care of.”
As I turned to walk away, I heard Clint following behind me.
“Wait a second,” he said, grabbing my arm and turning me around to face him. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” I replied defiantly.
If he didn’t want to be honest with me, then I didn’t owe him the favor of being honest with him. If I wanted to storm out, that was my right, and I was going to exercise it.
“Tell me,” he said. “Tell me what’s going on in your head.”
“The truth?” I asked, trying not to sound as frustrated as I was. “You’re not being honest with me; why should I be honest with you?”
“What do you mean?” he asked, acting as if he didn’t already know.
Without reply, I turned and began to walk away again, but I realized that his grip on my arm would not allow me to move. My heart hit with a thud as I felt his fingers digging into my skin, knowing that he didn’t want me to leave.
“Wait a minute,” he said, turning me back around to look at him. “Alright…I mean…I can…”
I could see that he was struggling with what to say, but I knew that I was at a point in my life where I didn’t have time for games. I respected the fact that he was already in a relationship, even though they had only been together for a short period of time. Still, I knew that I deserved to have someone who could at least be direct with me.
“If you can’t even say it,” I replied, “then I don’t know what we’re doing here.”
Yanking my arm out of his grip, I turned and walked quickly through the doors, feeling the same cool air that had hit me before. Earlier, it had been refreshing, but now it only served as a cruel reminder that I couldn’t have what I wanted. For the first time in years, I had felt a genuine attraction to someone, only to realize that it was impossible.
I heard Clint burst through the doors after me, calling my name.
“Nicholas!” he said. “Wait a second.”
Refusing to turn around, I continued walking in the direction of my apartment, avoiding looking anyone in the eyes as I passed them by. I didn’t want anyone to see the pain, the hurt that was clearly visible in my expression. I wanted to conceal it from the world, and run home to my tiny apartment to be left alone in silence.
“Can you please wait a second?” he asked, finally catching up to me.
I refused to look at him, and it seemed like he finally got the idea that I wasn’t playing around.
“Alright,” he said, sounding exasperated, “I’ll tell you the truth.”
Finally, I decided to stop walking and I turned around to face him. The cool evening air had given way to light drops of water, and I turned to look up to see where it was coming from. I had assumed that it was condensation falling from air conditioners affixed to the high-rises above us, but I quickly realized that it was rain.
“What can I say?” he began, obviously second-guessing his decision to be honest.
I watched as drops of rain grazed his face, causing him to wince as they hit, but he kept his eyes locked directly on mine.
“You can tell me the truth,” I replied, not wanting to feel as vulnerable as I did in that moment.
“The truth is,” Clint said, hesitating for a moment before adding, “the truth is that you caught my eye. You caught my eye the first night I saw you, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”
I didn’t know how to reply, so I waited another moment for him to build up the strength to finish his thought.
“I don’t know what to do about this,” he added, looking away from me at someone who was passing us by.
I noticed that, for the first time, he didn’t seem to be concerned with people nearby. It seem
ed as if he had allowed them to melt away, returning his gaze to my eyes and focusing solely on me.
“You’ve thrown me off,” he said, “and it feels good; but I don’t know what to make of it. I’ve been seeing this girl, and it’s obviously not working out, but now I have new things to think about. Things I had never thought about until I met you.”
“You mean,” I replied, “you’ve never felt this way about a guy before?”
“Never,” he quickly replied, and I believed him.
I wished that it would suit my ego to flatter myself with the knowledge that I was the first guy he had ever been attracted to, but it felt hollow in that moment as I could sense that he had no idea how to move forward.
“I don’t know what to do,” he said, the pain and frustration showing in his voice. “My entire life, I’ve lived a certain way.”
“You’re making it more than it needs to be,” I replied, finally finding my footing in the conservation and figuring out what I wanted to say. “You’re overcomplicating things. You’ve only been dating Kelly for two weeks, you don’t need to feel pressure to be with her.”
“I know, but –”
“But nothing,” I replied with a reassuring smile. “Listen, I’m a person who has always believed that human sexuality is not set in stone; it’s not black and white, it’s not concrete. It’s much more fluid than people like to admit. Unfortunately, society puts a lot of weird pressures on men to follow a certain path, and it can cause good men like yourself to live their entire lives without ever acknowledging their true desires.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, although I knew he had a pretty good idea of what I was talking about.
“I mean,” I answered, “these conflicts you’re feeling are all self-imposed. You need to be honest with yourself and ask yourself a few questions.”
“Like what?” he asked, looking directly into my eyes as if I might have the answers he needed.
“Like how you feel about me,” I replied, hoping to steer him in the right direction. “Like how you feel about yourself, and how you’d like to move forward. I can’t tell you exactly what kinds of questions to ask; you need to figure that out for yourself.”
The Warehouse Page 9