Cinnamon Eyes

by Nell Iris

  “You are helping. Talking to you always helped. I guess not everything changed the last sixteen years. Except for the impressive facial hair, of course.” He chuckled, leaned over the table, and caressed his thumb over my chin. “I have to admit: I never thought you’d be able to grow a beard.”

  I batted at his hand. “Yeah, yeah. Not everyone was a yeti at fourteen,” I muttered, but was glad to see his tension easing up.

  He burst out laughing, a loud happy noise that made the other patrons turn their heads and look at us. I didn’t care. As long as his happiness was back, they could stare all they wanted.

  “Wanna take a walk?” he asked.

  “Sure.”

  Asher waved to the waitress and asked for the rest of the coffee in a to-go cup. After I paid, we stepped out of the restaurant.

  “So where do you want to go?” I asked.

  He scrunched his nose, looking so cute, I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.

  “You know what? I’m tired. I don’t want to take a walk.” He cleared his throat. “I, uh, just wanted a chance to hang out with you for a while longer.”

  “You don’t need an excuse for that.” I smiled.

  “I kind of kidnapped you this morning. I didn’t know your plans.”

  “I don’t have any. I’m yours as long as you want me.”

  “Yeah?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  We turned in sync and walked back toward his place. Slowly, side by side, not holding hands, but so close, they touched. Back in his loft, we crawled into bed and took a nap.

  I couldn’t remember when I’d last slept so soundly.

  Chapter 7

  After our nap, we spent the rest of the afternoon listening to Asher’s records, lying on the floor like when we were teenagers, singing along, and laughing at each other when one of us got a word wrong here or there.

  He introduced me to new bands I’d never heard of, showed me the prettiest covers, and complained about an old favorite band that had completely derailed lately. Lying flat on his back, he played the best song in the world, sang it better than the vocalist—in my opinion—and strummed on an invisible guitar.

  It was the most fun I’d had in forever.

  All too soon, he had to get to work and prepare the bar for opening, and I accompanied him downstairs, watching him for a while as he got everything in order.

  Considering he was busy, maybe this was as good a time as any to go back to the hotel?

  “I’d better get out of your hair,” I said.

  He froze in the middle of loading up the freezer with glasses. “You leaving?”

  “I thought I’d go back to the hotel.” I waved at the jeans and T-shirt I’d been wearing for the last two days with a grimace. “I need fresh clothes. And you have work to do. I don’t want to be a bother.”

  “You’re not.” He ducked under the hatch and joined me on the customer side of the counter. “When will I see you again?”

  “Whenever you want. My grand plans for the evening include popcorn and TV and bed.”

  “But you’re not leaving?” His voice wobbled, and he fisted his hands at his side.

  “No, Asher. I’m not leaving. I give you my word.”

  But my promise did little to persuade him. His knuckles turned white, and he kept his gaze stubbornly on the floor.

  Did he remember the last time we’d said goodbye, too? How we’d clung to each other, refusing to let go until my father had physically pried me out of Asher’s arms and forced me to leave?

  He had to know this time was different.

  I stepped closer to him, grabbed him lightly by the elbows, and slid my hands down his arms until they reached his fists. I caressed his hands and wiggled my index fingers until he released his tight grip just enough to let them in.

  He hung his head, and I leaned my cheek against his, raising my mouth so I could whisper in his ear.

  “I came back to reconnect with you, Asher. You left a big hole in my life, and…I need my friend back. I need you back.”

  I could tell he listened; his body wasn’t as rigid as before, and he rubbed his stubbly cheek softly against my bearded one.

  “Trust me. I won’t leave you again. Unless you want me to.”

  “I don’t,” he rasped.

  My heart leaped at his words. “We’ll see each other again soon. Tomorrow if you’re free. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  I took a deep breath. Inhaling his scent, holding it in for as long as I could. Wanting to keep a part of his essence inside.

  Then I stepped back. “I’d better go. You have a bar to open.”

  He nodded. “Yeah.”

  Reluctantly, I let go of his hands and smiled at him before turning to leave.

  “Cory. Wait. Gimme your number before you go.”

  We exchanged numbers, and then I was out the door.

  * * * *

  I was asleep when my phone rang. “What now?” I mumbled, annoyed I’d forgotten to turn off the ringer. For a second, I considered ignoring it in case it was my mother, but it was pitch black outside and she’d never called me in the middle of the night before. Sighing, I grabbed it from the nightstand and glared at it until I saw who was calling.

  “Asher?” My voice was rough, and I covered the mic with my hand and cleared my throat.

  “I’m sorry I woke you.”

  “It’s okay.” I twisted my head to the side and took a quick glance at the time. Two A.M. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.”

  I burrowed down in my pillow again and pulled the blanket over my head to keep the chill out.

  “Did you fall back asleep?” he whispered after a few seconds of silence.

  “No.”

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure.”

  “Do, uh, do you have a boyfriend?”

  I grabbed the pillow from the empty side of my bed and hugged it, curling my body around it. “That’s your question?”

  “Yeah?”

  “No. No boyfriend.” Squeezing the pillow, I burrowed my face into it. Was it possible to become addicted to sleeping next to someone after just one night?

  “Why not?”

  “I’ve always been too busy.” I sighed as I remembered late-night Skype meetings at the office with people on the other side of the planet. How, when the loneliness overwhelmed me, I’d logged onto Grindr on my way out the door and hooked up with anyone willing to suck my dick, as long as they were located between the office and my home. I couldn’t waste precious time on a detour. I had to get a few hours of sleep at least.

  I was never going back to that life.

  “How about now? When you’re starting to get better? Are you, uh, ready to maybe…start dating?”

  “I guess. As long as whoever it is understands my depression isn’t…cured.”

  “That makes sense.”

  He was quiet for a while. His rhythmic breathing soothed me, and I started drifting away.

  “So, Cory. Would you like to go out on a date with me?”

  His rumbling voice made me shiver, and, at first, I didn’t register his question. But as soon as the words made sense in my sleepy brain, I threw off the blanket and jumped out of bed.

  “Did you…did you just ask me out on a date?”

  Asher hesitated a second before answering. “Yes. Oh, shit, did I read you wrong? I’m sorry, I—”

  “No! You didn’t read me wrong. I, uh, was just surprised.”

  “Oh. Why?”

  “I hadn’t expected…I mean, I just found out you’re gay. And I’m…” I grimaced and looked down at my body. What little muscle tone I’d had on my chest when I’d still had the energy to work out was long gone. My hipbones stuck out, sharp and pointy. Even my feet were bony and looked emaciated.

  Why would he want to date me?

  But more importantly: why did I question it?

  “Yes.” My voice was loud and clear, leaving no room f
or misunderstanding.

  “Yeah?”

  “Of course, dummy.” The childhood nickname slipped out. I wished I could take it back until Asher guffawed in my ear.

  “No one has called me that for years.”

  “I should hope not. That’s my name for you.”

  “Aw, shit, Cory. I’m so happy you’re back.”

  “Me, too,” I said.

  “Get dressed. I’m picking you up.”

  “Now? Why?”

  “I’m taking you out on a date, remember?”

  I raised my eyebrow and glanced at the time again. “At 2:10 in the morning?”

  “There’s no time like the present.”

  “Where will we even go?”

  “I know a place,” Asher said.

  Smiling, I shook my head. That was so typical of him. Always impulsive, never playing by the rules. “Okay.”

  “Awesome. I’ll be there in ten.”

  “Sure. See you soon.”

  “Oh, and Cory? I have a suggestion.”

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “I, uh, thought you could check out of your hotel and stay with me.”

  “What?”

  “Even if this dating thing doesn’t work out, we’re still friends, right?”

  “Yes. Always.”

  “I’m not trying to pressure you or anything. I’m not expecting anything. I just…want you close.”

  I combed my fingers through my sleep-messy hair. This was not what I’d expected would happen when I’d answered the phone a few short minutes earlier. “Okay,” I whispered.

  He exhaled, the relief loud and clear even through the phone. “Thank you. I’ll pick you up.”

  “I need more than ten minutes to pack up my things.”

  “Take all the time you need. I’ll wait. See you soon.”

  Asher hung up, but I didn’t move. Standing naked by an uncomfortable hotel bed in the middle of the night, I was the happiest I’d been in a long time. I wanted to jump and dance and laugh. Or scream to the world that the boy of my dreams wanted to date me, just like my fifteen-year-old self would have done if Asher had asked me out back then.

  I did none of those things. Instead, I put down my phone, turned on the light, and calmly started packing.

  Almost thirty minutes later, I checked out of the hotel and walked out. Asher leaned against his car, waiting. The air was chilly, and all he wore was a T-shirt. I shivered just looking at him.

  When he saw me, he straightened and met me halfway. His mouth parted in a toothy smile, and his eyes shone with warmth. “Hi.” He took my bag.

  “Hi.” I bounced on my heels, desperate to touch him, but unsure if it was okay. But one glance at his smiling face filled me with courage, and I rose to my toes and kissed his cheek.

  His stubble pricked my lips, and the sensation made me weak in the knees. He hummed, a deep, rumbling sound I couldn’t get enough of.

  “Let’s get into the car,” he mumbled. “I don’t want you to catch a cold.”

  We separated, and he threw my bag in the back seat before getting in.

  “Where are we going?” I asked as he turned up the heat.

  He pulled out of the parking lot. The streets were empty by this hour. “I realized you gotta be tired. So, maybe we can have our date at home. I bought fresh muffins. I’ll make tea, and we can watch an old movie?” He grabbed my hand and squeezed it before placing it on his knee. “Or was that a terrible idea?”

  The thought of cuddling up close to him, listening to him breathe, and revel in his warmth made me smile. “It’s the best idea I’ve ever heard.”

  Chapter 8

  We had our first date on the couch. Asher didn’t have a TV in the living room, so he set his laptop on the coffee table and put on an old movie. After changing into sweats, we crawled up close to each other with a steaming cup of tea and a warm blueberry muffin so moist, it was to die for.

  And then we talked. We talked about all the superficial things, like books, movies, favorite TV shows, and hobbies. Asher liked to build things, and before I’d become too exhausted to do anything but work and sleep, I’d loved cooking.

  Mostly, we talked about our lives. He told me about how he’d bought the rundown property on the verge of collapsing in on itself, for next to nothing, and all the work he’d put into restoring it.

  I explained about my job. How being the Human Resources Director for a large international company had meant stupidly long hours doing something I’d never wanted to do in the first place.

  “No wonder you burned yourself out.”

  “I guess not.”

  “Why did you do it?” he asked.

  “My parents can be very persuasive. And I didn’t know what I wanted to do anyway, so I went with their path, thinking it wouldn’t be so bad. I was wrong.”

  Asher took the empty cup from me and put it with his own on the table. Then he wrapped his arm around my waist and hugged me close to his warm body. “I’m sorry.”

  I shrugged. With the help of my therapist, I’d accepted a long time ago that it was no use dwelling on the past or thinking about all the million things I could have done differently. What was important was the future and that I learned from my mistakes so I wouldn’t repeat them.

  “So what do you want to do?” he asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “What are your dreams, Cory? Now that you can decide for yourself, take whatever path you want, not the one your parents chose for you.”

  I rested my head on his shoulder, burrowing my nose into the crook of his neck, and inhaled his scent, letting it invade every cell in my body. His pulse was so strong, I felt it on my nose, and it tickled.

  “I don’t know,” I said in a low voice.

  His hand found its way under my soft T-shirt. “Is this okay?” he murmured against my hair.

  “Mm.”

  He caressed my stomach, and I shivered as he dragged his calloused fingertips over my smooth skin. I even forgot to be self-conscious about how skinny I was.

  “Everyone has dreams, honey.”

  “Not me.”

  “I don’t believe that for a second. You’ve just not allowed yourself to think about it.”

  “What are your dreams, Asher?”

  “They’re simple,” he said. “I want someone to share my life with. Someone I can talk to. Someone to fall asleep next to every night.”

  That sounded like heaven. Almost as wonderful as his warm hand on my skin or listening to him breathing. I laid my palm over his heart, comforted by its strong beat.

  “That sounds amazing,” I said. And it did. Like something I hadn’t dared to dream about, but that I would give anything to get.

  Asher hummed. “That’s a dream, right there,” he said, his voice rumbling through me.

  “Yeah?”

  “Absolutely.”

  My parents and The Senator had clearly succeeded in drumming their values into me. Their constant mantra of “Hard work makes a man, Cory,” had made me want to scream, but I hadn’t been strong enough to resist it.

  I’d never thought that having a partner by my side could be considered a dream.

  I turned my face against his neck. “Maybe even…kids?” I mumbled into his skin.

  His grip on me hardened. “Mm, definitely. And a dog.”

  “Or a cat?”

  “Or one of each,” he said.

  “I like this dream.”

  “I can see it before me. You’ll be a big ol’ daddy hen.”

  “Daddy hen?” I asked with a chuckle.

  “You know. The male version of a mother hen.”

  “Noooo,” I protested, fearing he was right.

  “Sure you will. You’ll run around making sure everyone is warmly dressed. And they sure as hell won’t be allowed Fruit Loops for breakfast.”

  “It’s pure sugar!”

  He burst out laughing. “You just proved my point.”

  Grumbling, I slid my h
and down his side and let my fingers dance over the fabric of his T-shirt. He gasped, but before I could do any real damage, he captured my hand.

  “Nuh-uh, none of that, Daddy Hen.”

  “You really think I’ll be like that?”

  “Absolutely. But you’ll also blow on their boo-boos and give the best hugs.”

  “You’ll give good hugs, too.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Of course. But you’re more the Papa Bear type. You’ll show your teeth and roar at all poor, unsuspecting boy- or girlfriends.”

  He growled—just the way I’d imagined he would—and said, “Our kids won’t have girlfriends or boyfriends.”

  My heart stopped. Asher drew a shuddering breath and froze.

  Our kids?

  Had he meant that? And what did I do now? Ignore it, like it never happened? Ask him about it?

  First, I had to make my heart start beating again.

  With a voice trembling worse than an aspen leaf in a storm, I said, “Of course our kids will be allowed boyfriends or girlfriends.”

  His breath rushed out with a whooshing sound. “But not until they’re thirty-five.”

  “Twenty.”

  “Twenty-seven and a half.”

  I chuckled. “Twenty-five, and that’s my final offer.”

  He was silent for a second. “Cory?”

  “Mhm?”

  Gently, he cupped my cheek and nudged my face up. His eyes shone and shimmered like drops of dew on the tender spring leaves, and I couldn’t remember anyone looking at me like that before.

  “I’m going to kiss you now,” he rasped.

  “You are?” My gaze drifted to his mouth, surrounded by a day’s worth of sooty stubble. I imagined how it would prickle my lips and scrape against my short beard. I leaned in and licked my lips, and he groaned.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off his mouth as he inched closer. It became the center of my universe, and I was dying to kiss him. To finally feel his lips against mine, something I’d dreamt of for as long as I could remember.

  As his nose nudged mine, butterflies erupted from every nerve ending, making my entire world flutter. His mouth was so close, puffs of air tickled my lips as he exhaled.

  My lower lip trembled. I was going to burst into tears if he didn’t kiss me right this minute. As if he’d read my mind, he closed the distance and pressed his mouth against mine.