by J. P. Bowie
“And grab a free breakfast,” Blake said, grinning, obviously trying to ease the tension he no doubt knew he’d created. “Okay, okay, I guess not everyone wants a warm, secure relationship like Ryan and I have.”
“After you plowed your way through half the guys in college, you probably needed the rest.” Jay laughed at Blake’s incredulous expression. “Well, almost half.”
Ryan’s laughter was a little weaker. He stared at Blake. “What’s this?”
“He’s kidding. Tell him you’re kidding, Jay.”
“I’m kidding.” Jay winked at Ryan, who still looked slightly perturbed.
“Nowhere near half,” Blake said defensively.
Ryan leveled his gaze at his partner. “I knew you’d played around a lot before I met you, but half the guys in college?”
“Nowhere near half!” Blake yelled. “Jay, will you tell him?”
“If you’ll lay off talking about my sex life.”
“Done.” Blake squeezed Ryan’s hand. “He really was kidding. So…” There was a moment of silence before Blake cleared his throat then asked, “You’re serious about Paris?”
“Yeah. I checked out a gay travel site on the web and they have a pretty reasonable package, air fare included.”
“Hmm…” Blake and Ryan exchanged glances. “You want company?” Ryan gave Jay a sly grin. “That way we’ll be there to at least make sure you don’t walk into the Seine in the middle of one of your daydreams.”
“Hey,” Jay said in protest. “So glad you have such a high opinion of me.”
“We love you,” Blake told him, “you know that. Why else would we put up with you living in a fantasy land half the time?”
“Well, this fantasy is about to become reality, and when I get back I’m going to write about the trip and hopefully sell it to ManLove, the gay magazine that already bought two of my stories. If you two want to share in it, you’re very welcome. Better hurry though, I already booked my trip for the fourteenth of May.”
“You did?” Ryan grabbed his smartphone and scanned his calendar. “That’s only two weeks away! Oh no, I have that software convention on the sixteenth. No way I can go then. Can you change the dates?”
“Uh-uh. One of the reasons it was so reasonably priced is that it’s non-refundable if I cancel or try to change the reservation. This might come as a surprise”—Jay arched an eyebrow at his friends—“but I actually read the small print before I gave them my credit card number.”
“Why didn’t you tell us what you were planning before you signed up?” Blake asked, looking disappointed.
“Sorry, I didn’t think you’d want to go. After we saw the movie you’re the one who said Paris couldn’t possibly be that glamorous—that it was probably dirty, full of fat tourists and expensive as hell.”
“Well, shit, now my snarkiness has just bitten me in the ass.” Brett’s shoulders slumped.
“You can go with him, Blake.” Ryan’s offer sounded a tad half-hearted.
“No way, babe. I’m not going to Paris for the first time without you. I love Jay, but…”
“You guys can go together another time,” Jay said, scraping his plate clean of waffle scraps and syrup. “It’d be more romantic anyway. Just the two of you under a Paris moon at midnight.” He looked past his friends and gazed out the kitchen window, already lost in a quiet fantasy.
“He’s gone again,” Ryan murmured, shaking his head.
Blake chuckled. “Doesn’t take much, does it? If he’d just include a boyfriend in those daydreams.”
“Hey, that’s right!” Ryan poked Jay on the arm. “Won’t ManLove want some kind of sexy story about Paris? How’re you going to manage that if you don’t want to hook up while you’re there?”
Jay grinned at him. “Who said I didn’t want to hook up?”
“Fine,” Blake said. “Just remember to at least look interested.”
* * * *
On his way home, Jay smiled at the memory of Blake’s expression when he’d joked about Blake’s exploits in college. Truth was, Blake had been a slut until he’d met Ryan, the first year after he and Jay had moved to LA from Denver, their hometown. High school and college buddies, Blake had persuaded Jay to room with him at DU.
Jay’s smile changed to a slight frown as he recalled the reasons for that. Blake’s parents had not been delighted to discover their son was gay—in fact, they had been downright hostile, threatening to send Blake to a ‘conversion course’ where he would learn how to be straight, marry a girl and have lots of kids. Blake had shown up at Jay’s house, panicked, begging him to share with him at Denver University. Jay hadn’t intended on rooming at the university, just making the trip each day from home, but on seeing his friend’s obvious distress he’d agreed, after conferring with his parents.
So, for the next several years he and Blake had shared a room, along with their hopes and dreams of the future. Well, Jay reflected wryly, mostly his dreams. Blake wasn’t a dreamer. He’d told Jay his estrangement from his parents had made him grow up, become a realist overnight.
Jay was just glad Blake had met Ryan. The man was everything Blake needed to ground him, plus he was a sweetie—and hot. Not that he would ever admit this to anyone, but Jay had been very attracted to Ryan when the three of them had met one night at a friend’s party. The tall, dark-haired, green-eyed man they’d been introduced to had made Jay’s mouth go dry and his stomach flutter in a way he was not accustomed to—but when he’d seen the instant connection between Ryan and his best friend, he had stepped aside—both literally and figuratively. And he’d never regretted that decision. After all, he mused with another wry twist to his lips, he really had never stood a chance. Blake and Ryan were made for each other. They’d never been apart since that first night.
Strange, that in all the years of being a gay man, footloose and fancy-free, apart from that one time when he’d actually believed he was on the verge of a relationship, he’d never really come across anyone who’d made him want to settle down like Blake and Ryan. Was he too careful now, wary even, or, just as his friends told him, too much of a dreamer? Since Tad, there really hadn’t been anyone out there who turned him on enough, but contrary to what Blake had said earlier, he did have somewhat of a sex life. Not terrific for sure. He just couldn’t get into the idea of flinging himself, or being flung, into nameless hot and sweaty sex with the man of the moment.
He’d done it, just to prove to himself he could, but it had never been fulfilling, or even memorable after a few days had passed. And when he thought about it… Jeez, it’s been almost a year since the last hook-up. Maybe there was something wrong with him. Maybe he was too much of a daydreamer, looking for a person, a place, a moment in time that really didn’t exist. Like this trip to Paris he’d just purchased on line. He’d seen a movie—a movie for crying out loud—that had filled him with so much longing, it had almost become a physical pain.
He’d known about Paris of course. Who the heck didn’t know about the capital of France, City of Light, with the Louvre, the gardens at Versailles? But he’d never really wanted to actually be there until he’d seen the movie. Logic told him it probably could never live up to his expectations—after all, the movie had been a fantasy. A fantastic fantasy for sure, but really, sitting under a bell tower at midnight and being whisked away in a limo to meet the celebrities of the past in one dazzling night after another couldn’t really happen.
No, it couldn’t. But it was more than that. It was the atmosphere the movie had evoked, the sidewalk cafés, the antique stores—the rain. The visuals had been exquisite but he wanted to experience all of it first-hand, be there to see it, smell it, taste it—write about it. And if that was all there was, he knew he would remember it forever.
Smiling, he pressed the play button on his CD player to listen to the second part of Conversational French In Your Car. He’d been listening to it ever since he decided on this trip. He was getting pretty good, he thought, and remembering som
e of his schoolboy French lessons had been helpful. Yeah, by the time I get to Paris I’ll be ready for some conversations!
* * * *
Back in his apartment, he switched on his PC to check out his emails. Among the usual list of instant deletes—just how many companies were offering penis enlargement these days?—there was one from the travel company he’d booked his Parisian trip with.
Hi, Mr Harrison, we took note of your preferences for Paris nightlife, and just to add to your itinerary, you might want to make a note of the gay club, Pour Les Hommes, located just two blocks from your hotel. They have entertainment every night and there is no cover charge.
Cordially, the staff at Davenport Travel.
Hmm… Jay made a note of the address on his phone.
Could he really go there on his own? Staring at the small map provided by the travel company, he could see that it was indeed a short walk from his hotel on the Left Bank. Maybe, just maybe, he’d take a stroll over there once he got himself familiarized with the area. Actually going inside was another matter. He just wasn’t really any good at that kind of thing. But eight nights in gay Paree… Plenty of time to soak in the atmosphere by visiting the local, less touristy places recommended by Davenport Travel.
He scrolled up to the photograph of the Hotel Cherbourg and gazed at the quaintly designed building, an old nineteenth-century townhouse renovated as a guest house at the turn of the twentieth century. He liked the idea of staying in a place that had some history—a far cry, he figured, from the opulence of the Le Bristol Hotel used in the movie—but comfortable and within his budget.
He was a little disappointed Blake and Ryan couldn’t go with him. It would have been nice to have had company, to share the excitement he was sure there would be in seeing places like the Louvre, Versailles, Montmartre. But he’d always been a bit of a loner, so it wasn’t a big deal for him to be on his own. He glanced at his calendar. Only two more weeks and he’d be on his way.
He sat back in his chair, closed his eyes and let his mind drift. Something he did so easily and so very well. He could see himself strolling the streets of the Left Bank, sitting at a table in the Café Les Deux Magots, people watching, soaking up the atmosphere that the movie Midnight in Paris had so vividly brought to the screen. He could almost smell the coffee, the warm breads, the baskets of flowers in the street markets…
Oh, man—I just cannot wait!
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About the Author
J.P. Bowie was born in Scotland and toured British theaters in numerous musical shows including Stephen Sondheim’s Company.
Emigrated to the States and worked in Las Vegas, Nevada for the magicians Siegfried and Roy as their Head of Wardrobe at the Mirage Hotel. Currently living in Henderson, Nevada.
Email: [email protected]
J.P. loves to hear from readers. You can find his contact information, website and author biography at http://www.totallybound.com.
Also by J.P. Bowie
The Set Up
Ride ‘em Cowboy
Ride ‘em Again Cowboy
Personal Trainers
Halloween Angel
The Officer and the Gentleman
With a Little Help From My Friends
Blood Relations
Nowhere to Hide
Trip of a Lifetime
A Ghost Story
Happy Ending
A Highlander in LA
Journey to Hope
Paris Connection
My Vampire and I: My Vampire and I
My Vampire and I: My Vampire Lover
My Vampire and I: Duet in Blood
My Vampire and I: Blood Resurrection
My Vampire and I: Bound in Blood
My Vampire and I: Blood Lure
My Vampire and I: Blood Lust
My Vampire and I: Blood Talisman
Fabulous Brits: Under the Law
Naughty Nooners: Lunches in Laguna
Friction: Cruising
Saddle Up ‘N’ Ride: Ride ‘em Hard Cowboy
Promoted by the Billionaire: Fly to Him
Heatwave: Summer Bliss
Christmas Spirits: A Present Christmas
Homecoming: Blueprint for Love
Yule Be Mine: A Special Christmas
Immortal Love: Night Wing
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