A Champagne Kiss

by H J Welch

  A Champagne Kiss

  By HJ Welch

  A Champagne Kiss

  Copyright © 2018 by HJ Welch

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  A Champagne Kiss

  Josh knew he was screwed before the door even shut on him.

  In the moment of panic where he thought – keys! – the lock clicked, and he was stranded out in the hall of his apartment building holding a bag of trash.

  That seemed to sum up how he was feeling about this New Year’s Eve pretty well.

  He bit his lip and looked at the trash bag. Not knowing what else to do, he padded over to the chute, feeling the bristly old carpet through his socks, and fed the sack through the swing door opening. He picked up old Mrs. Jenkins’ bag from outside her door as well, as she’d obviously not felt able to make it down the hall.

  Then he went back to look accusingly at his front door. Typical.

  At least he had his phone on him. Thank goodness for small mercies.

  Taking a deep breath, he started searching for locksmiths, holding on to the flicker of hope that someone would be able to come to his rescue. And sure enough, there were one or two services still open at nine o’clock on December 31st who would be happy to come out and get him back into his apartment.

  For three hundred bucks.

  Josh just couldn’t afford that. He’d be better off paying to get a cab to a friend’s place and crashing for the night, then calling again in the morning.

  Ah.

  He bit his lip and rested his forehead on the door. It had been a while since he’d been caught out like that.

  What friends?

  He hadn’t known a soul when he’d picked up his life and relocated to New York to move in with Fletcher. All his friends had been Fletcher’s friends. And now they were gone.

  Just like Fletcher.

  “Nope, no.”

  Josh pressed a closed fist against the door by his temple and fought back the tears. It was only natural that Ricky, Laurence, Matt, Karl and Bebe would choose Fletcher in the breakup. They were loyal to him…even if Fletcher hadn’t been loyal to Josh in the end. The gang had probably only heard how Fletcher and Josh had been ‘growing apart’ and ‘just weren’t happy anymore.’

  They probably didn’t know about the many hookups behind Josh’s back. But that didn’t make the loneliness any easier to bear.

  Josh could feel his head spinning, so he took a long, deep breath. That was just the nostalgia talking. When it really came down to it, he didn’t want to be with a man who disrespected and mistreated him.

  Who didn’t love him.

  But that didn’t alter the fact that Josh was currently stranded. Suddenly, his pathetic night alone with a bottle of prosecco and a YouTube binge didn’t seem so bad.

  Maybe he could get a hotel for the night?

  Disappointment tightened around his heart. How? He’d never bothered to set up his bank card on his phone. He couldn’t pay for anything and his family lived several states away. He was all alone in his apartment building’s hallway with nothing to do but fall asleep against his door and wait for morning to come.

  He couldn’t help it. One of those hot tears escaped, squeezing through his eyelashes and down his cheek.

  “Hey – are y’all okay?”

  Josh gasped and jerked in shock. He hadn’t heard anyone approach. He hastily scrubbed his face before whipping around.

  Jesus fuck. Could this night get any worse?

  It was Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome himself.

  Josh had lived in this apartment building for almost six months since the breakup, and he’d seen or walked by this guy several times in that period. Presumably he lived here too. He was beautiful in that classic, chiseled, Disney prince sort of way. He had dark hair and eyes and just the right amount of stubble on his chin. He could pull off a lumberjack shirt unironically.

  In fact, he was currently wearing a red-and-black-checkered one over a black tank, both straining over his clearly defined muscles.

  Josh realized he was staring.

  “Me?” he squeaked.

  He cleared his throat, about to say that of course – he was fine! But he wasn’t. In fact, he was sure this was rapidly approaching rock bottom.

  “I think I’ve locked myself out,” he said to Mr. Handsome, laughing so no more tears would fall. “But it’s cool. I’ll just try another locksmith…or something…”

  Mr. Handsome checked his watch. It was then Josh realized he was holding a brown paper grocery bag to his chest, several bottlenecks jutting out from the top.

  He was on his way to a party, and Josh had held him up.

  “I’m great. I’ll get this sorted, thank you!” Josh winced and tried to turn back to his door, but for what? He had no key! Maybe if he willed it hard enough, the floor would swallow him up and spare him this humiliation.

  But the guy chuckled. It was a kind sound. “Hell, dude. I bet there aren’t any locksmiths even open right now?”

  Urgh, he had a point. “None that I can afford.”

  Josh risked peeking again. Mr. Handsome had stepped closer and was smiling, his expression sympathetic. He shrugged the bag of booze so it was sitting on his hip like a toddler, cradled in one arm, then offered his hand to Josh.

  “I’m Artie. I think we’re neighbors? I live on the fifth floor.”

  “Josh. I live on the second…” Josh cringed. “Which you already know, because you’re standing here.”

  The guy – Artie – laughed warmly. “Yeah – I was taking the stairs and saw y’all looking a little out of sorts. Figured it was worth spreading that holiday cheer a little further and seeing if there was anything I could do to help.”

  Josh blinked, registering the Southern manners and genuine offer at the same time. Could this guy get more dreamy?

  But shame washed over him. Mr. Handsome didn’t look like the kind of guy who would appreciate a nerd like Josh fawning all over him. Heat rose in his cheeks.

  “Uh, well, unless you know how to pick a lock, that’s okay. Thank you, though. I really appreciate the offer.”

  Artie frowned and shook his head with a little smile. “No, but – well, what are your options? I’d say hightail it to a buddy’s place. No sense crying on your own door.” He pointed to Josh’s phone in his hands. “You got your card loaded on that thing? Go! Have fun! It’s New Year’s Eve!”

  Josh felt something twist and break in his chest. What could he say to that?

  “I’m fine,” he whispered, making himself smile. But his throat was tight, and his eyes prickled.

  Artie stepped closer anyway, a frown pulling at his features before Josh dropped his gaze further to their shoes. “Begging your pardon, hon, but you don’t look fine.”

  Josh squeezed his eyes shut, accidentally allowing tears to spring free. He hastily scrubbed them away, then forced himself to look at Artie with a smile. “No friends, no cash. But I’m in the warm, right? So much better than a lot of people out in the city tonight.”

  Artie made a sound like an indignant parrot. He even managed to ruffle a little. “Hon, no. That’s insane. Come with me, right now. I’m having a lil’ shindig at my place. It’s small, but it’s a hell of a lot better than a pity party for one in the damn hallway.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t-” Josh was already
stammering before Artie even finished talking. An apartment full of red-blooded, Southern dudes? He’d be outed immediately. It would be too excruciating…

  Yet a voice in his head piped up; would attempting to say hello at Artie’s party really be worse than a night spent sleeping on the hallway floor? He could always leave and come back down to his door to sleep outside of it.

  Wow…that was a terrifyingly bleak upside.

  “I don’t have anything to bring?” Josh blurted, his voice dry and tense. “That’s so kind, but-”

  Artie’s warm laugh interrupted yet again. He took another step closer, batting Josh’s arm with his free hand.

  “Are you kidding? I’ve made enough food to feed a whole damn hog farm! I may have underestimated the booze, but you’d be doing me a genuine service if you came and relieved me of some macaroni and cheese.”

  Artie jigged around – like some little dance. Josh couldn’t help but let a laugh escape his throat. It was part relief, part disbelief. This hot dude was basically demanding that Josh come hang with him. Meet his friends.

  What did Josh have to lose?

  “If you’re really sure,” Josh said tentatively. He realized Artie had amazing blue eyes as they looked at each other.

  If possible, Artie’s smile got wider. “Outstanding! Well, come on then, shake a leg. No more moping. That’s the rule.”

  Josh laughed weakly as he followed Artie through the door into the sporadically lit stairwell which always smelled faintly of cabbage. Josh’s apartment was pretty nice for what he paid for it. But the lower rent meant he had to put up with the mildly unsafe-feeling halls and stairs.

  He always took the elevator, but as he and Artie passed it, he saw it was out of order since this morning.

  “Are there any other rules I should be aware of?” Josh asked as they made their way up.

  That made Artie laugh, but somehow it was different from his other previous laughs. He was amused by a feeble joke Josh had made. Even though it was lame, it warmed Josh’s heart all the same.

  “Not that I can recall. But we’re kind of a strange ensemble. A little lively. I hope that won’t put y’all off.”

  Josh tried not to let his fear run away with him. He immediately pictured a gang of pistol-wielding cowboys aiming chewing tobacco into spittoons.

  “Not at all,” he squeaked.

  They jogged up the last few steps and pushed through the door onto the fifth-floor landing. Josh could hear a faint bassline thumping through the walls. Sure enough, Artie stopped in front of the door the music was lurking behind, trying to fish out his keys while juggling the bag of booze.

  “Oh, here, let me take that.” Josh dashed beside Artie, slipping his hands around the paper bag. Their fingers brushed slightly.

  Josh froze, but Artie didn’t even seem to notice. “Oh, thanks, hon.” He allowed Josh to take the bag all the way, balancing it on his own hip. Then Artie finally got his keys out and tackled the lock, a lone star keyring swinging from the bunch.

  A cheer greeted Artie as he opened the door and stepped back into his apartment. Josh followed, trying not to get so close as they might bump into each other, but quick enough so the door didn’t slam in his face and lock him out for a second time. The music turned down notably.

  Suddenly, he found himself in familiar-but-not space. The layout was just like his home a couple of floors down, but the décor was completely different. It was jarring. Artie’s place had wooden floorboards instead of carpet and different light fittings on the walls. As they walked down the hall, they passed a couple of doors on the left. One showed a bathroom with the same finish but different shower curtain. Then they turned right into the open-plan kitchen and living room. Just like in Josh’s place, there was a small balcony overlooking the city, although this one had a bike on it rather than plants.

  Josh was able to glimpse a rich brown leather sofa, a wooden coffee table and a Texas flag as well as several framed pictures on the wall. But it was a little difficult to register any more than that as the eight or nine people in the room all rose to greet Artie.

  They weren’t butch cowboys.

  Josh stopped at the door’s threshold in surprise, trying to take in everyone as quickly as he could. From the couch leaped a couple of slim white guys in nice shirts bouncing up and down. A woman and someone of indeterminable gender were standing in between the fridge and a small table with four chairs. They both had multicolored hair and held two full Champagne flutes in each hand. A couple of bigger gym bunny-looking guys abandoned the dance game they’d been battling out on the X-box. Finally, an older woman remained seated in an armchair, pinned down by a snorting pug, wagging their whole backside in excitement. The woman appeared to be covered equally in glitter and black hairs from the pug.

  In the few seconds it took for Josh to take in the entire picture, he realized what the group was.

  Queer. Completely LGBT. His gaydar was pinging like crazy.

  A lump almost rose in his throat he was so relieved. He had no reason to worry about getting outed. He already fit right in.

  Wait – if all Artie’s friends were queer, did that mean…

  “Sorry I took so long, y’all. My regular store was clean outta anything sparkling. But I managed to pick me up a waif and stray!”

  Artie toed his boots off while he spoke, then opened his arm out to introduce Josh. Josh couldn’t help but hug the bag of booze to his chest, like it was a shield that could protect him. He may be able to fit in with this group more easily than most, but he still didn’t know a soul and shyness overcame him.

  “This here’s Josh from the second floor. He locked himself out, so I said he could join us. I hope that’s A-Okay?”

  There was a chorus of ‘sure,’ ‘absolutely’ and ‘hell yeah’ in mostly none-Southern accents. One of the twinky guys with blond hair and a Hollywood-dazzling smile skipped up and offered his hand to Josh.

  “Hi, sweetie, I’m Luca. Top or bottom?”

  Josh almost choked on nothing. “I’m sorry – what?”

  There were several groans and Artie took the bag of booze from Josh’s hands. “Just ignore Luca.”

  “He’s a floozy.” The other dark-haired twink in a black lace shirt bumped Luca over with his hip, holding his own hand out. “I’m Emilio. So nice to meet you.”

  “What can we get you to drink?” the woman with colorful hair asked with a slightly Eastern European accent. Her spiky bob was red, orange, pink and yellow, like it was on fire. She and her friend passed their secondary glasses of Champagne to the twinks. Then she pointed to the half-full bottle. “Bubbly? Oh, I’m Retha. This is Dian.” She hugged her green-and-blue-haired friend to her side. “That’s Bill and Duke squabbling over the dance matt, and Maribeth with Poppy the pug.”

  “Hello!” Maribeth saluted her tumbler of what looked like gin and tonic with a slice of lime at Josh. He waved back but then felt silly, so he shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. He’d only just remembered he wasn’t even wearing shoes. He felt so awkward in the face of so many people.

  But…they were all smiling at him. He tried to take a deep breath without being too obvious and relax.

  “So, you got locked out, hey?” Retha briefly squeezed Josh’s arm. “That’s so lucky Artie saw you.”

  “Now you can help us eat some of this mountain of food,” Dian said with a wink.

  “Like my momma always said,” Artie said from over by the fridge where he was playing Tetris with all the bottles and packets of food, “better to overprepare than have folks going hungry.”

  “Amen,” Dian agreed. “So lovely to meet you, Josh. Are you and Artie friends from before?”

  “Well,” Artie said. He’d appeared at Josh’s side and pressed a cold glass of fresh bubbly into his hand. “We’ve seen each other around, but never spoken until today. Thankfully the elevator went bust, otherwise I wouldn’t have spotted you.”

  He grinned and
tapped his glass to Josh’s. Josh had to blink and collect himself. Had Artie just said he’d noticed Josh before? Little, nerdy Josh? Why? How?

  He felt like they were all looking at him. “Uhh…so, how do you guys all know each other?”

  Fiery-haired Retha smiled and perched on the sofa arm next to their gaggle. The twinks were taking a turn on the dance game while the hunks tried to sabotage them by tickling their sides and pulling faces. Maribeth laughed at them while Poppy snuffled and barked.

  “We all volunteer or go to the LGBT center a few blocks over,” Retha said. “Tommy’s House. You know it?”

  Josh shook his head. “I’m still quite new to the area.” He was surprised he hadn’t come across any mention of the place, though.

  “Oh, you should come check it out,” Artie said. He bumped shoulders with Josh. “There’s a café and a small health clinic, and we do dance classes, self-defense, teaching older guys how to use computers, all kinds. Emilio there teaches English to people from the Spanish community.”

  “We had a lovely Christmas dinner,” Maribeth said in a thick Bronx accent. “Beautiful. Everyone’s always welcome.”

  “Even Poppy!” cried blue-haired Dian in delight, dashing to crouch down and smoosh faces with the pug by Maribeth’s side.

  “Hey, Josh, you need some food,” Artie said. His arm nudged Josh’s and he beamed. Then he glanced at the countertops piled high with dishes. He hadn’t been lying when he said he’d maybe made a few too many things. “Let’s fix you a plate.”

  He’s just being a gracious host, Josh told himself firmly as the two of them broke away slightly from the rest of the party. Inviting him to the center and getting him something to eat and drink was just that famous Southern hospitality Josh had heard so much about.

  “So, are your friends back home?” Artie asked as he passed Josh a plate. Josh went straight for some of the macaroni and cheese Artie had promised him before. It smelled heavenly, but Josh’s stomach dropped at Artie’s question. “You said you were new to the city?”