Better Than Friends (20 page)

“Say no more. Where do you wanna meet?”

M
ATT
AND
I worked in the same general area downtown, about three blocks away from each other. We agreed to meet in the middle at the Tavern for a cocktail and appetizers. I walked over to the bar, knowing traffic and parking would be brutal at this time of evening. Summer was a few short weeks away, the weather was beautiful, and the tourists were beginning to flock to the city.

I spotted Matt sitting at the bar near the back wall of the traditional old-style establishment. This wasn’t a fancy bar. It wasn’t a hole-in-the-wall, either. It catered to a white-collar after-work crowd. We weren’t likely to run into any congressmen or senators in the dark space with its worn tables, wood bars, low ceilings, and green billiard-table lighting. Nor were we likely to bring clients there. It was a place to meet your friends for a drink and maybe a game of pool without the bells and whistles so many newer, hipper establishments had.

Matt smiled in greeting and gave me one of those bro handshakes reserved for friends, not clients.

“How you doing, man?” I sat next to him and signaled to the bartender to give me the same as my buddy.

“Good. I just needed to escape tonight.”

I raised my eyebrows in concern. Matt laughed and patted my back hard.

“No need to worry, Curtster. All is well with Mendez and Sullivan, but I….”

“What?”

“It’s just kind of weird, ya know? We’re buying this place together and it feels… great. It’s totally what we both want. We aren’t going into this lightly by any stretch, but it’s… big. Significant. I see Aaron freak a little, and we both know it’s normal and probably healthy to stop and….” Matt shrugged helplessly, seemingly out of words.

“So he’s out with Jay and Katie who will…. what? Reassure him he isn’t making a dumb-ass mistake tying himself financially to you? Or are you afraid they’re talking him out of it?”

“No. I don’t think they’d do that. And like I said, we both want it, but it’s been stressful dealing with pulling our finances together. Aaron is used to doing and spending whatever the fuck he wants on whatever he wants, and at least until we have the loan documents worked out, that has to change.”

“Compromise.” I thanked the bartender as he placed the beer I’d ordered at my elbow, and I lifted my glass to toast my friend. “You’ll get through it.”

“I know. We will. Thanks, Curt.” Matt’s smile lit up his handsome face. I didn’t think I’d done anything, but he obviously felt relieved for having shared his concerns. “They’re also making plans for the barbecue this weekend. You’re going, right?”

“Huh?”

“Jay and Peter’s barbecue Sunday. Come with us. I have a feeling Aar will go over early to help Jay set up. We can watch a game or something and then head over there together.”

I nodded absently. I’d totally forgotten about it, but I wouldn’t miss it. It was the first party the married couple was hosting since their wedding. Jay was a legendary party thrower. Even a Sunday barbecue was a “not to be missed” affair.

“So, what’s going on with you? I’m hearing you got a couple of fish on the line, as they say.” He lifted his brows comically as he took a sip of beer.

I laughed. “No one says shit like that, Matt. And what are you talking about anyway?”

Matt looked nonplussed. “Aar said I should ask how things are going with Paul. He’s heard you’ve been seeing each other. And Jay said, and I’m quoting loosely here, ‘ask him about gorgeous Jack too.’ So, what’s going on? I thought you and Jack were just friends.” He finished with a wink, letting me know he knew Jack was more than a friend but he’d wait to hear my version.

I swallowed my beer and stared at the bottles of liquor lined up carefully against the mirrored back wall of the bar before turning to answer. I once again recognized I didn’t know how to quantify my “relationship” with Jack, whereas Paul was easy. He was someone I had dated casually a couple of times. I told Matt exactly that.

He stared at me for a long minute, not saying a word.

“What?”

“Jack likes you. Why are you pretending he doesn’t?”

“I’m not! It’s like you said, though, we’re friends and—”

“Bullshit.” He grinned at my pissed-off expression before continuing. “Hey, I don’t doubt you’re friends. Are you more than friends? Do you want to be? Or are you happy playing free agent for now? And before you answer, let me just say, it’s nice to see you getting out, man. You’ve been working way too much for way too long.”

“Um….”

Matt gave me a long stare before he continued. “Some people are fine playing with multiple partners. Maybe you just need to kick back and enjoy the attention from a couple of hot guys while it lasts and you still have all your hair.” He dodged my elbow neatly. “It would never work for me.” Matt let out a funny half-chuckle. “Not only would I get my nuts served to me, but I couldn’t handle more than Aaron. And I wouldn’t want to anyway.”

I smiled, knowing he spoke the absolute truth. “There really isn’t anything to talk about. I mean, I like Jack. A lot. And Paul is nice, but he’s just a guy I’ve been out with a couple of times, while Jack is—”

“You’ve gone out with Jack too, dumbshit. Didn’t you go to a baseball game? And lately when I text or call you, you’re watching a game or hanging out together.”

“Sure, but those aren’t really dates. Those are—”

“What are they, then? Are you suggesting that because he hasn’t asked you out for dinner and shyly tried to hold your hand before giving you a polite kiss good night, the time you spend together doesn’t count?”

“No! I don’t….” I raked my hand over my face and leaned heavily on my elbow. Since when did Matt get so fucking wise? “The truth is I don’t know. I don’t think Jack is looking to do more than what we’re doing, and Paul is…. well, he’s nice and… I admit, as lame as it sounds, it’s kind of refreshing to be asked out.”

“If you had to choose, who would you choose?” Matt challenged.

“Jack.” No hesitation. “But like I said….”

“Jack doesn’t date. Right. You are much more conservative than I ever realized, Curtster.” Matt shook his head in mock disappointment.

“Fuck off.”

“Look, I’m not judging, man. You don’t have an arrangement with either guy that says you’re exclusive, so fuck… have fun. But maybe it would be a little more, I don’t know… honest. Make it clear you’re playing the field, so to speak?”

“I’ve been honest with Jack. He knows I’ve been out to dinner and stuff with Paul. I don’t think he cares. He doesn’t want to ‘go out’ with me. I think he just wants a friend to have sex with. I’m not opposed to that necessarily. Would I like more? Sure. I’m not a multiple-partner kind of guy. I never have been. I wish I knew how to get what I wanted. Who I wanted. It seems to me that if he actually wanted me to stop seeing Paul, he’d say something. Right?”

“I don’t know. I honestly don’t. I’m shit at reading that stuff. I can’t tell you how happy I am to be with Aaron. In fact, thank you. I’m buying tonight! Hearing about your crap has made me really grateful not to be dealing with the dating-combat game. I love my guy, and no matter that he drives me slightly batty with his budgetary issues, he’s mine. No doubts.” Matt gave me a long sideways stare. “Don’t worry, Curt. You’ll find yours.”

I smacked his shoulder, figuring he was antagonizing me in that collegiate way we seemed to do with one another, but I saw he was sincere. He was head over heels for Aaron, and as one friend to another, he wished the same thing for me. In spite of feeling more confused than ever about my “dating” status, I was touched by the sentiment, and moreover, I hoped Matt was right.

S
UNDAY
DAWNED
brightly b
eautiful and really damn hot. A typical DC humid summer day. Matt was given strict instructions to be at Peter and Jay’s by eleven with two twenty-pound bags of ice. So we trudged to the store before heading over to Adams Morgan to Jay and Peter’s townhouse. I lugged one bag into the kitchen and left the other for Matt, who was busy sticking his tongue down his boyfriend’s throat at the front door. I heard Jay talking to a woman as I approached and realized it was Kelly, Jack’s sister.

This was a new one for me. I was in an undefined “relationship” with her brother. I wonder if she knew anything about it. Did Jack talk about us at all, or was I being presumptive to even think there was such a thing as “us”?

“Hey there, Curt! You know Kelly, right?” Jay greeted me with a wide, welcoming smile and a kiss on the cheek. His hands were busy peeling potatoes, and he didn’t stop for a moment as he went on to introduce the two tiny people sitting at the large kitchen island. “And these two munchkins are Blake and Petra. Say hi, gang.”

The two kids were beautiful like their mother with dark hair, light skin, and huge blue eyes. The girl, Petra, was the oldest. She shyly informed me she was four when I asked.

“How old is your brother?”

“Blake is only two. He’s a baby.” Details like that are important at a young age, I guessed. Blake didn’t like the word
baby
, though. He reached out and smacked his sister’s arm, yelling “No baby!” loudly. Petra immediately burst into tears while Blake sat with his pudgy arms folded tightly over his chest, glaring at his theatrical sister.

“I see you have a way with kids.”

I was so intent on the downward spiral of the little people at the island that I didn’t notice Jack’s entrance. He ran a hand lightly over my arm before heading over to his niece.

“Hey, princess. Why so sad? There’s no cryin’ allowed here.” Jack picked her up and swung her playfully in his arms. She was giggling wildly in no time.

“Me! Me!” Blake stretched his arms out toward his uncle, who deftly scooped him up. Both kids were screeching with laughter as he ran them out the side door to the backyard area.

I stared after them and turned with a stupid smile on my face to find Kelly and Jay watching me intently. I quickly looked down at the ice I was holding. My fingers were turning blue.

“Where do you want this? Matt has the….” I felt my face redden and was looking for any excuse to keep busy.

“Out back, sweetie. Follow Jack the giant and his little friends. Thank you for bringing it. I think Peter’s out there trying to set up the bar. Help him, please.” He gave me a pleading look as though I knew something his husband didn’t about icing alcohol. I lifted the bag and hoisted it over my shoulder before heading outside.

Jay and Peter’s backyard was actually an oversized courtyard. In true row-house fashion, it was long and narrow, like the house itself, and very deep. There was a fountain along one side of the lush space near the kitchen door, flanked by a cozy sitting area. At the far end, a gorgeous old weeping willow tree offered a sweeping canopy over another seating area. Strings of lights were hung from one end to the other in the middle over a large farmhouse-style table. The lush greenery juxtaposed with the red brick façade of their home made for an inviting setting. I looked toward the built-in barbecue, hoping to find the host and drop off the ice.

Peter and Jack stood with their backs toward me as they watched the young kids pulling at the branches of the enormous willow. Peter looked over at Jack, laughing at something he said, and I found myself mesmerized by how fucking hot those two looked together. They were both tall and outrageously good-looking. And while Jack was more thickly muscled and was tattooed where Peter was not, it was easy to picture them as what they once were. A couple. Jay was Peter’s now, and they were amazing together, but I couldn’t help but think Jack belonged with someone more like Peter, not me. I wondered what the fuck I was doing. I thought I’d been doing well compartmentalizing my “friends who watch baseball and have sex” status with Jack versus dating with Paul. I knew ultimately Paul wasn’t for me. We didn’t really have anything in common, nor did we have the opportunity to really get to know each other because of his work obligations. But that familiar sinking feeling was back with a vengeance. Jack was out of my league.

I jostled the ice, accidentally announcing my presence. Peter smiled in greeting, grabbed the heavy bag from me with ease, and offered me a beer.

“Sure, thanks.”

“I’m going to grab some more for the cooler out here and bring you a cold one. I’ll be right back.”

Jack saluted him with the bottle he held in his hand. The minute the door swung shut behind him, Jack snaked his arm around my waist, drawing me close to his side.

“Hey, handsome. I’ve missed you.”

“Oh?” I had taken Peter’s spot, and we both now faced the willow to help keep an eye on the kids.

Petra yelled at Jack to come quick. He handed me his beer and winked at me.

“Sorry, but the wee princess beckons. I must go.” He spoke in a faux British accent that instantly cracked me up. I stayed where I was and observed Jack from afar playing the doting uncle to his niece and nephew.

“Oh, you got one.” Peter was back with a couple of cases of beer.

“This is Jack’s.”

“Here’s a cold one of your own if you want.” Peter handed me a second beer and stood to look over his bar to see what was needed. “I think I need lime. Jay takes these parties very seriously. Doesn’t matter that everyone coming is friends or family… he’ll notice if there’s no lime.” His tone was adoring rather than irritated, like someone who knew his partner’s quirks and didn’t mind catering to them, even if he griped a little along the way. The guy was obviously besotted with his husband.

The comment about limes reminded me of Jack insisting I always had one in my drinks. I laughed and told Peter why when he looked at me inquiringly. His expression was thoughtful as he turned toward the far end of the yard where Jack had Blake upside down and Petra on his shoulders, clutching his hair for dear life.

“He must really like you.” Peter’s voice was low, almost like he didn’t mean to speak.

“Huh?”

“I’ve known Jack a long time, Curt. He’s… happy. Happier than I’ve seen him in a while. Kelly is actually the one who pointed it out. It’s just nice to see. And by the way, the bartender in him might make a suggestion the first time he offers you a cocktail, but after that initial freebie, he doesn’t give a shit what anyone puts in their drinks… unless he likes them. A lot.” He gave my shoulder a friendly squeeze before heading back to the house for the limes.