Luke hits him back with: Of course. We’ll talk then. He doesn’t know what else to write.
* * * *
Tossed Salads is busy with many lunchers. The place sells every salad known to man: eel and spinach, strawberry and almond, brisket and garbanzo beans. Bar stools circle high tables, all of which are filled with fast-paced patrons who need to relax just a smidge.
Luke finds Box at a two-person table overlooking Liberal Street. Two bottles sit on the table: one for Box and one for him.
Box has never looked happier, beaming with a smile, glowing. He gazes up at his friend and says, “You’re late again. When did this shit start?”
Luke looks at the time on his phone. “Only by two minutes.”
Box laughs. “I ordered you your favorite.”
Luke sits across from Box. “A wedge salad with no tomato?”
“That’s the one.”
“Thanks, man. I like it when you look out for my best interest.”
They share small talk about work, the hot day, and how their shirts stick to their chests because of the heat. The coffee stain on Luke’s shirt becomes a topic.
Box says, “The dick and balls look good on you, man. It’s a bit showy, but fun.” He laughs into his napkin, all smiles. “You should walk back to my office. I keep a spare white dress shirt in one of my desk drawers.”
Luke tells him, “Thanks, but you’re three times my size. You have the body of Thor, and I have the body of a teenage girl.”
Box continues to laugh.
Their salads are served, and the two men begin to eat, hungry.
Eventually, Luke asks, “What happened after Perrin and I drove away this morning?”
Box blushes.
It’s sexy and odd to see a bus-size man blush, but Luke likes it. Perrin has a better looking face and smile, though. Something Luke doesn’t share with Box.
Box rambles, “The crowd continued to applaud this morning after I waved you through. David and I went for coffee at Emille’s. We sat, held hands, and talked for about twenty minutes. I had to cancel my 9:30 client, but Ross, my adorable admin ass, rescheduled.”
“And?” Luke is all eyes, sucked into Box’s man-tale. Why? He’s really not sure. He just knows Box is interesting and fun to listen to. No one can say he’s boring.
“David’s had his eye on me. Just as I’ve had my eye on him. He loves gingers, and he’s been watching me for the last five months, since this spring. Some would think it creepy, but the whole idea makes me hard. David told me he was afraid to hit on me because I’m white-collar and he’s blue-collar. He said I have an arrogance about me that intimidated him, but he’s always found it attractive and liked it. He was glad I bumped your Leaf into him this morning.”
“I can’t believe he didn’t rough you up after you tapped him with my car. Any other guy would have. People don’t take kindly to being hit with moving vehicles.”
Box continues to blush. His orange face turns a bright red. “You know the bathroom in Emille’s Coffee Shop, right?”
Luke nods. It’s nothing spectacular, with black-and-white tile, always clean.
“We made out there, and he roughed me up a bit. I did everything to not have sex with him in one of the stalls. I was ready for him to throw me over the sink and have his way with me, but it didn’t come to that. The heat and magnetism between us was so powerful. Relentless. Unstoppable. We obviously have a strong connection that neither of us have any control over.”
Luke can’t imagine anyone throwing Box over a sink and having sex with him because of Box’s size. David Wolfe is bigger than Box, though. Massive. Titanic. Bulging everywhere. Muscles from toes to head. If anyone can accomplish such a task, David can.
Luke tells Box, “That’s a pity. Maybe the two of you can get together after work and finish the dirty deed.”
Box nods. “We are. I’m glad you brought it up. I won’t be doing carpool home with you and Perrin this evening. David invited me back to his Tudor. We’re going to have dinner together and…learn more about each other.” Box winks at Luke, continuing to blush.
Luke winks back, understanding Box’s sexual innuendo, happy for him.
They both smile and continue eating their salads.
* * * *
Five minutes until five. Luke closes up shop on his desk. He decides to take a manuscript home to read for pleasure. The five hundred-plus pages is called Driver; a weak title that maybe needs some attention. The young author is fresh out of Temple, gay, and an expat from his Amish community in Lancaster County. The novel’s about being excommunicated from the Amish and learning how to struggle and live in everyday America. Luke has read and enjoyed the first two dozen pages and loves the kid’s writing: smooth, effortless, and with an edge of sweetness mixed with an understanding of being victimized by a community and himself. He has high hopes for the novel and for its writer, Henry Ichenbach. Luke can’t wait to dig into the next twenty-four pages over dinner, alone.
He meets Perrin at the Leaf in the parking garage. Perrin stands by the front passenger door. He’s sweating on his chest and under his arms, through his shirt. His black hair is mussed, tossed because of the humidity and heat. His beautiful face is perspiration-covered. Frankly, Luke thinks he looks like hell, overworked and exhausted, and ready for a strong drink, maybe two. Perrin’s not a drinker, though. Never really has been. Good for him.
Luke unlocks the Leaf, and they climb in. He kicks on the air conditioner.
Perrin positions the vent to hit him directly in the face and neck areas. He mumbles, “Fucking hot out there. Miserably hot. It has to be a record today. I don’t know how it can’t be.” Before putting on his seatbelt, Perrin unbuttons his dress shirt, leans forward, and removes the fabric from his damp skin. He drops it on the leather satchel between his ankles.
With the Leaf still in park, Luke admires the man’s chest again: glistening with sweaty muscles, black hair between his pecs, ab-covered stomach, and hard nipples. Again, he becomes turned on by the man, unable to control his hunger for Perrin. He swallows down warm spit at the back of his throat, speechless, gawking. It’s an awesome sight, extraordinary. He licks his lips.
“This is what I want to talk to you about,” Perrin says.
Luke becomes befuddled. He blinks a number of times and shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I honestly don’t mean to stare, but you’re beautiful, Perrin. Maybe you should have been a model instead of an accountant.”
Perrin demands, “Give me your left hand.”
Confused, Luke listens, extending his hand. He feels Perrin grip the hand with his right one: strong, surprisingly no sweat, on the bigger side.
Perrin continues to demand, “Flatten your palm.”
He’s playing a game with me, Luke thinks. It has to be a game. But he doesn’t care and listens to Perrin again, flattening his palm.
“Feel this,” Perrin says, slipping Luke’s palm against the left side of his chest, over his left pec and its hard nipple. “This is for you. My heart.”
“But…”
Perrin shakes his head. “It’s too late for buts, Luke. Your secret’s out. I’ve known about your feelings for some time now. Maybe since Christmas. Maybe Thanksgiving. You treat me with respect at all times, and you’re a better man than I am. So I want to give you my heart and feelings. Everything about me.”
Quiet takes over the Leaf. Only the strong sssshhhh sound of the blowing air conditioner is heard. Luke’s head spins, and his heart begins to thump wildly within his chest as he tries to absorb what Perrin has just said. His temperature rises even now that the car is starting to cool down. Slowly, he pulls his palm away from the Frenchman’s pec and nipple. He wants to tell Perrin that he loves him, but he doesn’t know if he should. It might be too early to say something like this. The last thing he wants to do is scare Perrin away and embarrass the both of them.
Perrin clears his throat, perhaps somewhat nervous. He takes a deep breath, exhales, and rambles, �
�I saw your erections this morning and knew it was time to do something about your feelings for me…and my feelings for you. You’re better than any boyfriend I’ve ever had. You’re like a soul mate to me. And we get along with such ease. It’s so unbelievably easy to be with you, whether you know it or not. Every morning, you take an interest in me. And every evening, you worry about what I’m going to have for dinner and what my plans entail. It’s like you care about me and…”
“But I do care about you, Perrin. More than I maybe should.” Luke isn’t taken aback by what Perrin has just shared with him. Maybe he should be, but he’s not. He tells Perrin, “You gave me three chubs this morning. One in your bedroom while you were asleep. Or I thought you were asleep. The second one occurred when you were showering and asked for your razor off the sink. And the last one was in the back of the Leaf. I was daydreaming about you and me having sex, and it got out of hand. What can I say? You’re a good-looking man. You turn me on. And, I’m not going to lie, I have an attraction to you. Plus, you give me a lot to think about and desire. Just so you know that I’ve liked you for over a year now.”
“Which means what? What do we do from here? Do you see me in your life or not? Because I do see you in mine. Every second, endlessly. I’d be a fool to pass up the opportunity to get you to be my boyfriend. I’d be stupid.”
Luke shrugs. He’s wanted this to happen for a long time now. And finally it has. Yet he’s confused. Unsure of what to say and what to do. It seemed so much easier inside his head during the many times he’s previously thought about this scenario. “I’m really not sure. What do you want it to mean?”
Perrin licks his lower lip, blinks. “That maybe we have something I’m completely aware of now and comfortable with. I’ve opened my eyes and see that we have more than a carpool in common.”
Luke stammers, “I didn’t…I didn’t know you were starting to like me.”
“I didn’t either. It just happened, though. Back in November. All on its own. Quickly. One minute, we’re riding to work together like this morning. The next minute, I’m thinking about you all day long and can’t get you out of my head. For months now, I’ve been doing this. Emotionally beating myself up because I like you, and I’ve been too afraid to tell you.”
Reality kicks in for Luke, and he finally becomes taken aback. Words are lost on him. Silence follows.
Perrin reaches across the space between them for Luke’s hand. “Trust me. I won’t hurt you. You’re the last guy I want to hurt. I mean this when I say it. I’ve fallen for you, Luke Masterson. Everything about you. The good. The bad. The ugly. Everything.”
Luke slips his left hand into Perrin’s right hand. It’s comfortable this way. Natural. As if they are meant to hold hands; a magnetic attraction created by strange things from maybe higher powers. “You’ve caused a whirlwind with my affections.”
“Better that than something worse.” Perrin leans to his right and kisses Luke on the lips.
The kiss for Luke is everything he’s always thought it will be: fire between two men, splitting atoms, and the act of tectonic plates shifting under western Pennsylvania. It’s movie perfect. Simple. Sweet. Endearing. Exactly what he wants and desires.
When the kiss ends, Perrin pulls away. “I have a serious question for you, Luke. And I think it’s the right time to ask.”
Nervous, flustered, and unsure where this moment in the Leaf is going to lead and take him, he says to Perrin, “Ask me. Maybe I can answer it. Maybe I can’t. Give me a try.”
“How would you feel if I asked you to be my boyfriend?”
Luke blushes and answers Perrin’s question quickly, unabashedly, “It would probably make me the happiest guy in Pittsburgh. I’ve always wanted to be your boyfriend.”
Perrin kisses him again: harder, stronger, willfully. There’s a blast of potency in the kiss. A punch of emotion. An unfolding of events that should have happened back in November, or December at the latest.
This second kiss between them ends.
Perrin asks, “Let’s make it official, Luke Masterson. Will you be my boyfriend?”
Luke bubbles inside like hot lava, exploding. Again, he doesn’t have to think about an answer to give Perrin. Not a mere second passes. “Yes. Please. I’d like that. And I like you.”
“It’s official then,” Perrin explains, smiling from ear to ear. “We’re boyfriends. Something that should have happened a while back.”
“Better late than never,” Luke replies.
Perrin tells him, “Let’s go back to your place and celebrate this new adventure between us. What do you say?”
Luke likes to be told things. He backs the Leaf out of the parking spot. “Do you intend to seduce me, Mr. Lerue?”
Perrin chuckles. “A little bit of that…and much more. You’ll have to drive quickly so you find out.”
“Hell, yeah,” Luke says, beaming inside, glowing, and sporting the widest smile on his face. He shifts the vehicle into drive, zooms out of the parking garage, and heads home with Perrin at his side, a new romance, and a heart overflowing with lust and love for the guy beside him. A happy ending to his workday, and the beginning of the rest of his life with his new boyfriend. The best carpool in the city.
THE END
ABOUT R.W. CLINGER
R.W. Clinger is a resident of Pittsburgh. He has a degree in English from Point Park University of Pittsburgh. His writing entails gay human studies. His work includes Just a Boy, Skin Tour, Skin Artist, Soft on the Eyes, Pool Boy, The Last Pile of Leaves, The Weekender, Cutie Pie Must Die, Frat Brats, Panama Dan, Spoil Me So, The Shower Police, Splash Boys, and several stories with Starbooks Press. For three years he has held the position of managing editor for the literary magazine The Writer’s Post Journal. Visit him online at rwclinger.com.
ABOUT JMS BOOKS LLC
JMS Books LLC is a small queer press with competitive royalty rates publishing LGBT romance, erotic romance, and young adult fiction. Visit jms-books.com for our latest releases and submission guidelines!
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