by Witt, L. A.
“So it doesn’t bother him?”
“Which part? Me having a boyfriend, or you being that boyfriend?”
Brennan half shrugged. “Either or.”
“He knows I date both men and women, and he likes you.”
“Oh. That’s . . . that’s good. That he’s okay with us. And two guys in general.”
I watched my fingers tracing his hand in the darkness. “He didn’t even realize people thought same-sex couples were weird until someone at our mosque made a snide comment about it. He still scratches his head if someone acts like gay people are strange.”
“Now that’s some good parenting right there.”
“Maybe a bit self-serving, in this case.”
“Still.”
Our eyes met again, and we exchanged subtle smiles.
And I wondered how I’d ever not seen that this would happen. That he’d ever been a stranger, or some guy I sort of knew, or just a friend.
It was like he’d always been Brennan. And we’d always been like this.
It just made sense.
* * *
The asexual group had a standing reservation at a hipster coffee shop in Seattle’s University District, and when we showed up, a dozen people were already there.
“Zafir!” Alicia squealed as we joined them. She jumped up and threw her arms around me. “I haven’t seen you in forever!”
“I know. I’m sorry.” I hugged her back. “I’ve been working too much.”
Clicking her tongue, she released me and gave a disapproving glare. “What have I told you?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I rolled my eyes. “All work and no play makes Zafir miss out on spending time with Alicia.”
“Exactly.” She turned to Brennan. “I don’t think we’ve met.”
“This is my first time.” He extended his hand. “Brennan Cross.”
“Nice to meet you.”
After they’d shaken hands, I introduced Brennan around to the rest of the group.
“So you live over on the Peninsula?” Sam asked.
Brennan nodded. “Yeah. Bluewater Bay. Like him.”
“What do you do?” Jayson asked.
“I work in a skateboard shop.”
Three of the others—Robyn and two guys I hadn’t met before—perked up.
“You do?” Robyn asked.
“Yeah.” Brennan smiled in his adorably shy way. “Mostly for the discount. I’m a semipro skater.”
I thought the three of them were going to fall out of their chairs.
“Really?” one of the guys asked. “Oh, I have to hear about this.”
Brennan looked at me, eyebrows up.
I touched his arm. “Why don’t you grab a chair, and I’ll go get us some coffee?”
“Sounds good.”
I went up to the counter to get us each a cup of coffee. By the time I came back—well, no shock. Brennan already had half the group hanging on his every word.
I took the empty seat beside him and set our coffees in front of us.
He paused and turned to me. “Thanks. What do I owe you?”
“You can get the next one.”
“That works.” Then he turned to the others again, and as he picked up his story, he absently rested his hand on my knee.
“So,” Jayson said. “You’re one of those skaters we see on TV? Doing all the flips and tricks and shit?”
Brennan nodded. “Haven’t quite gotten into the X Games, but I’ll get there.”
“How do you do that stuff, anyway?” Alicia asked. “I’ve seen skaters do all kinds of crazy things, and I can’t even stand on a skateboard.”
Brennan chuckled. “Lots and lots and lots of practice.”
“He’s teaching my son.” I put my hand on top of his. “I’m with you guys—it looks terrifying and fucking complicated.”
“Seriously.” Robyn laughed. “Props to you, though. Being able to do it well enough to compete—that’s impressive.”
“Thanks,” Brennan said. “What do you guys do?”
“I work in IT,” Alicia said.
“Retail,” Robyn said.
“You too?” Brennan asked. “That’s how I pay my bills. What do you sell?”
“Car stereos, mostly.” She wrinkled her nose. “Not as fun as it sounds.”
“She’s not kidding,” Alicia said. “Tell him about that guy with the Maserati.”
Robyn groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Oh God. That asshole.”
Brennan laughed. “Well, now I’m curious.”
“Jesus.” She huffed. “So it started right before last Christmas . . .”
Before long, the conversation had devolved into everyone who’d ever worked in retail sharing their horror stories. Robyn had her Maserati-owning misogynist who thought she was trying to rip him off because she was jealous that he had money. Jayson had done his time in a camera shop in college, and had more than a few amateur photographers try to blame him—not their own lack of skills—for ruined wedding albums. Brennan told about how he still had to sell things to his ex-girlfriend and her new boyfriend. And of course I’d had my fair share of retail-is-hell experiences, so I told the story of the man who didn’t understand why he most certainly could not return a Fleshlight that had quite obviously been used. Repeatedly.
“I think Zafir wins.” Jayson laughed. “That’s horrible.”
“Just be glad you weren’t there.” I gestured toward the counter. “So, anyone up for a cream-filled pastry or—”
“Oh my God!” Alicia smacked my arm. “You’re terrible!”
Brennan shook his head, snickering. “I see why you make the trip out here for this group, Zafir.”
I just chuckled. Gathering my plate and empty cup, I said, “Seriously, though—anyone want anything?”
No one except for Brennan did, so I headed up to the counter to get myself some coffee and him a cappuccino.
While I waited in line, Alicia joined me.
“So,” she said. “You and Brennan . . .” She raised her eyebrows.
My face burned, and the color probably gave me away. “Yeah.”
“Cool.” She smiled. “What a nice guy. And I didn’t even realize you were seeing anyone.”
It’s kind of a new development.
“Eh, you know.” I shrugged. “I haven’t been here in a while, and I just met him recently.”
Really? Recently? I looked past her and watched Brennan for a moment. You haven’t been here my whole life?
“Do you think he’ll come back?” she asked. “To the group?”
“He seems to be having a good time. So, maybe?”
“Cool. It’ll be nice to see both of you again.”
“Thanks. I really do miss coming out here. Just haven’t had time.”
“I know the feeling.” She scowled. “I’ve only been to like the last two meet-ups. I missed three or four before that.”
“Good to know I’m not the only one.”
“Nope, and you have to come a million miles.” She paused. “How’s Tariq doing?”
“Good. Good.” I gestured at Brennan. “Those two get along so well it’s scary.”
She sobered a little. “They’ve met already? I thought you hadn’t been seeing him very long.”
“Yeah. We were kind of hanging out as friends. I . . . To be honest, I didn’t see us dating, so I didn’t think anything of it. Brennan started giving him skateboarding lessons, and then we started being . . . not just friends.”
“Oh. Well. That makes sense.” She glanced at him, and shrugged. “I guess that must be tricky when you have a kid.”
“It is. Believe me. It is.”
She smiled again. “Well, I hope things keep going good. It’s nice to see you with someone like him.”
“Thanks.” I shifted my gaze toward Brennan, and I swore my lips tingled from that last kiss on the beach.
Yeah, maybe I was taking a risk. But I liked what we were doing so far.
And
I hoped, inshallah, that this kept right on going.
* * *
As we walked back to my car, I asked, “Did you have a good time?”
“I did.” Brennan glanced at me. “You?”
“Yeah. I like this crowd. They’re pretty chill.”
He nodded. “I noticed that. They seem like good people.”
“The Facebook group has all the dates and times,” I said. “If you want to come back on a day when I can’t, I’m sure they’d love to have you.”
“We’ll see. I . . . kind of liked being there with you.”
My heart fluttered. “Likewise.” I stopped beside the car, absently turning my keys in my hand. “You know how my schedule gets, though. Don’t feel like you have to wait for me.”
“I know I don’t have to. But I think I want to.” He paused. “If the choice is between driving all the way out here to have coffee with them, and meeting up with you for an hour or so after you get off work . . .” He let his shy grin finish the thought.
I glanced around, and when I was sure we were alone—two guys couldn’t be too careful—I put my hands on his waist. He wrapped his arms around me and brushed his lips across mine.
“I’m not gonna lie.” He smoothed my hair. “I can honestly say I have no idea what we’re doing. I just know I don’t want to stop.”
“Neither do I.”
“Then I guess . . .” He took a deep breath, and a nervous smile curled the corners of his mouth. “I guess we don’t stop.”
I grinned. “I guess we don’t.”
Chapter 19
Brennan
So I was dating a man now. I had a boyfriend.
Whenever I stopped to think about it, the whole thing boggled my mind. I couldn’t even take a minute to let it sink in that I was dating a single parent, or figure out how I felt about that part, because my mind kept going back to the fact that . . . I had a boyfriend. How the hell . . .?
But most of the time, I didn’t try to pick it apart. I was usually too distracted by glancing at the clock and counting down the minutes until I saw him again. And when Zafir and I were actually together, I didn’t question it. Dating him? Duh.
Things didn’t even seem to change all that much. We still texted constantly. We still spent as much of our off-time together as we could. He still brought Tariq to the skate park, and I still gave the kid lessons.
I felt a little more conspicuous going over to Red Hot to meet him for lunch, or when he came into the skate shop, but only because we weren’t pretending to be just friends anymore. No one else seemed to catch on. If they did, they didn’t say anything.
It seemed like the only thing that had changed was that we weren’t denying it anymore. We kissed when we were completely alone. Held hands in the car when it was just the two of us. Shared those little knowing glances sometimes, like we had some big secret that nobody else knew.
Yeah. I was dating a man. I was a dude’s boyfriend.
And somehow, it made perfect sense.
Why didn’t we start doing this sooner?
Well. Couldn’t change the past, and we were doing this now, so I couldn’t complain.
With both of our schedules being pretty crazy, we grabbed whatever time we could. Tonight—a Friday night—we’d met up after I’d closed my shop and he’d clocked out of his, and caught a late movie at the theater in town. I was starting to love movie dates again. This theater had armrests that lifted up, so Zafir would sidle up next to me and I’d wrap my arm around his shoulders. We’d spend the whole movie like that—no armrest biting into anyone’s ribs, no one trying to get frisky in the dark. Fucking perfect.
Afterward, I drove back to his apartment to drop him off.
“Man, I can’t believe they carded both of us,” I said. “Do we really look that young?”
Zafir laughed. “I guess we do. But it’s about damn time they carded you. I had to show my ID the last three times in a row.”
“And when we went to that bar in Port Angeles.”
He groaned dramatically. “That was messed up. I wasn’t even drinking.”
I snickered, and he elbowed me. I patted his arm. “Oh, come on. At least you’ve never had a cop ask to see your learner’s permit.”
“Well, no. Partly because I don’t get pulled over.”
“Hey. Hey. That’s beside the point. Point is I was twenty-three and the guy thought I was out driving alone with just my permit.”
Zafir snorted. “That’s what you get for having a lead foot.”
“Right. Like you’re Mr. Follows-All-the-Traffic-Laws.”
“Okay, fine. That’s what you get for having a lead foot and getting caught.”
“Jerk,” I muttered. We glanced at each other over the console, and laughed.
I pulled into Zafir’s parking lot, and stopped in front of the stairwell. As it always did, that little pang of disappointment worked its way into my chest.
“So, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”
He smiled, but suddenly seemed a bit uncertain. “Yeah. I’m off at ten, so . . .”
“Great. I’ll be there.”
He nodded and reached for the door handle, but hesitated. He pulled his hand back.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Nothing.” He met my gaze, and the smile was a little more genuine, but there was something there that hadn’t been before. “I, um . . .”
I put my hand on his knee. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah. But, um.” He cleared his throat. “Listen, Tariq is at my sister’s tonight.” He swallowed, and gestured up at his apartment. “Which means we have the place to ourselves if we want it.”
My pulse shot up, and he had to have felt my fingers twitch on his leg. Why did this feel like those times my ex-girlfriends and I had danced around the idea of having sex for the first time? Why was this happening with him? What the fuck?
“Um . . .”
He laughed softly, sliding his hand over mine. “I wasn’t suggesting we sleep together, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
“It was.” I swallowed. “What . . . what are you suggesting?”
“I’m suggesting we sleep together.” He squeezed my hand. “Like . . . sleep.”
It took a second for that to fully register. “Oh.”
“It’s okay if you say no,” he said. “I’m just—”
“Actually.” I took a breath. “I kind of like the idea.”
“Do you?”
I nodded. “I, uh . . . I guess I should park?”
He smiled. “Good idea.”
I pulled into one of the visitor spots, and without a word, we got out and went up to his door. I’d been here enough times that just walking into his apartment didn’t faze me one way or the other.
But my heart pounded on the way to Zafir’s bedroom. Agreeing to this had made sense in the moment. Going through with it was somewhat more intimidating.
At the end of the hall, Zafir opened the door and gestured for me to go in ahead of him.
Okay, a lot more intimidating.
He flicked on the light, and I looked around. I hadn’t expected him to have a gigantic California king or something, but the narrowness of the mattress made my spine prickle. We’d find out in a hurry if we were comfortable sharing a bed, that was for sure.
From behind, Zafir wrapped his arms around me and kissed my shoulder through my shirt. “You sure about this?”
“I’m . . .”
No. No, I am not. I put my hands over his. What are we doing?
“We really don’t have to,” he said. “It was just a thought. That’s all.”
“It’s a good thought. I want to.” I gently freed myself and turned around. “We’re just sleeping, right?”
“Mm-hmm.” He cupped my jaw and kissed me softly. “Physically, that’s as far as I want to go. This isn’t some ploy to trick you into doing more.”
“No, I didn’t think it was. I guess it’s kind of a new thing.”
&nb
sp; “I get it. To be honest, I just . . .” He lowered his gaze, cheeks darkening in the dim light.
I tipped his chin up so we were looking at each other again. “What?”
Zafir swallowed. “I’ve been sleeping alone for a long time. And I guess . . .”
I pressed my lips to his. “I like the idea of not sleeping alone too.”
He held eye contact for a moment, then smiled. “If you decide it’s not comfortable, say so.” With his chin, he gestured toward the door. “I’ve slept on that couch before, and I can do it again.”
“I’m not going to kick you out of your own bed. If this doesn’t work, I’ll take the couch.”
He pursed his lips, but after a moment, shrugged. “Let’s see how it goes, and cross that bridge if we get there.”
“Sounds good to me.”
He kissed me once more, then let me go.
Sitting on the edge of his bed, I untied my shoes. As I took them off, I looked at him. His back was to me, and he was sliding the band out of his hair. It occurred to me right then that I’d never actually seen him with his hair down.
And then . . . it was. It hung a few inches below his broad shoulders, with a wave in the middle where the band had been holding it together. Immediately, I wanted to comb my fingers through it. Hair had never done much for me either way, but I wanted to touch his.
He turned around, and cocked his head. “What?”
Was I staring? I was staring. Fuck. I was staring.
“Um.” I cleared my throat and broke eye contact so I could push my shoes aside. Then I stood. “Your hair is down.”
“Yeah, I—” He gestured at it. “I don’t sleep with it pulled back.”
“But the rest of the time, you always tie it back.” I couldn’t resist, and tucked a few strands behind his ear. “It looks good when it’s down.”
He smiled, and actually blushed. “Thanks. It’s just kind of a pain in the ass. Gets in my face all the time.”
“Except when you sleep?”