Marie Sexton - Coda 02 - A to Z (13 page)

“Zach?” he said suddenly.

I ripped my eyes away from that drop of paint, looked up at his face. Jesus, could he tell I had a fucking hard-on? He was staring at me with that lopsided grin, looking incredibly amused, but I didn’t think it was over the embarrassing bulge in my pants. Jared, on the other hand, was grinning at me like he knew exactly what was going on.

“What?” I sounded defensive, although I hadn’t meant to. “Did you even hear me?” Angelo asked.

Had I heard him? Had he been talking? All I could remember was the way the paint had rolled over his stomach, and I had to resist the urge to look down at it again.

“Zach, what’s up with you, man?” he asked jokingly. Jared made a choking sound, and I knew he was trying not to laugh at me. I needed Angelo to put his shirt back on.

 

“Aren’t you cold?” I asked him.

“No.” He had spotted the paint and was trying to wipe it off. Now he had a white smear across his stomach. At least it didn’t look like ice cream anymore. “Why?”

“It’s cold in here.” In my defense it
had
finally dropped below eighty-five.

 

Angelo looked at me like I was crazy. “Then why you sweatin’?”

Jared really did start laughing now. Angelo turned and looked at him in confusion. I did my best to glare daggers at him. He clamped his mouth shut and started putting his brush away.

“What’s so funny?” Angelo asked him.

“Nothing.” But he was obviously struggling to get himself under control. “Listen, it is
definitely
hot in here. Way too hot for all three of us. I think I better go.”

“Already?” Angelo asked. “Why?”

Jared laughed again. “I gotta go tell Matt he won our bet.” He looked over at Angelo. “Ang, I was listening even if Zach wasn’t, and it’s a great idea.”

Angelo looked extremely pleased, and I was irrationally annoyed that it was Jared who had caused it. “Cool,” Angelo said to him. “We still on for dinner?”

“Sure. Just come on by when you guys are ready.” He was still smiling. He had to walk past me to get to the door, and as he passed me, he said very quietly, “Not blind anymore, are you?” I felt my whole face turn red. “See you later.”

Once Jared was gone, I looked back over at Angelo. He had gone back to painting the top of the door jamb. His skin was moving over the thin, taut muscles in his arms. His head was back. There was a drop of sweat in the little hollow at the base of his throat.

I was getting hard again.
I
really
needed him to put his shirt back on.

“Hey, it’s almost dinner time anyway,” I said to him. “Let’s go back to the motel and get cleaned up. I could use a shower.” A really,
really
cold shower.

He shrugged. “Okay.”

First we had to clean the brushes, or they’d be worthless by the time we got back from dinner. We crowded into the mop room and stood next to each other at the utility sink, rinsing out brushes and pans and rollers. There wasn’t much room, and his arm kept brushing mine. At least he had put his shirt back on. Still, I could smell him. He smelled like sweat and shampoo, and paint, and it was sexy as hell. Just standing next to him had me hard all over again. Had he rolled in pheromones that morning or something?

He was talking again and I was finding it very difficult to pay attention.

“The thing I never got ’bout
Gone with the Wind
was why Scarlett was so crazy over Ashley anyway, you know? Here she’s got Rhett on the line, and all she can think ’bout is Ashley, who’s a total fuckin’ pansy.”

“I never watched it.” I was watching his hands. He was washing out his paint brush, his long, thin fingers working through the bristles, and I thought about what it would feel like to have those fingers tangled in my hair. While I licked paint off of his stomach.

Seriously, this was getting weird.

 

He turned and looked at me with his eyebrows up in surprise. “You never saw
Gone with the Wind
?”

I had to make myself look away from his hands and look at his face. “Seemed like a stupid chick flick.” I hoped I sounded casual, because for some reason, I didn’t feel casual.

He gave me that lopsided smirk, and something in my chest flipped over. “It’s a classic. I still can’t believe you own a fuckin’ movie store, and you never watched any of the classics.”

What were we talking about again? When did I suddenly become incapable of carrying on a simple conversation with Angelo? He tucked his hair behind his ear. I could see the soft skin on the side of his throat, and I wanted to put my lips on it. “It’s about the Civil War, right? But I read once that it didn’t actually have a single battle scene in it, so I never watched it.”

“It takes place
during
the Civil War, but it’s not
about
the Civil War. It’s about love.” He shook his head. “You have no sense of romanticism.”

I didn’t know about romanticism, but I definitely had a sense of something growing inside of me. It felt like an epiphany. Everything was starting to make sense. Everything was suddenly coming into focus.

All this time I had been blind to his feelings for me. But it seemed now that I had been even more blind to my own feelings for him. Wasn’t I the one who invited him over every night? Who practically begged him to go to Folk Fest with me? Who assumed that wherever I went, he would be there with me? Wasn’t I the one who couldn’t imagine moving to Coda without him? And while it seemed melodramatic to say that I couldn’t live without him, I knew at that moment that I didn’t want to try.

I was still staring at him. He seemed so young and wild and beautiful—like something not even of this world. How could he possibly want someone like me? “So Scarlett doesn’t love Rhett?” I asked. I didn’t actually care. I just wanted him to keep talking so I could keep looking at him.

“Not at first. Even after she marries him, she still wants Ashley. She doesn’t love Rhett until the end, really. But,” he said, glancing sidelong at me and blushing, “by then it’s too late.”

Was I too late? The thought was enough to make my heart stop beating.

 

“Ang?”

He turned to look up at me through his bangs. I had to touch him. I reached up and brushed his hair out of his eyes. He had the longest lashes I had ever seen on a guy. He didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Just looked at me.

“Angelo, I know I should have asked. I know I’ve been an idiot. I know I should have figured it out sooner.”

 

“Not sure what you’re talkin’ ’bout, Zach.”

 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m blind. Or I’m stupid. Or both, I guess. I must be. I really don’t know.”

 

“Still not sure what you’re talkin’ ’bout, Zach.” But there was a slight tremor in his voice as he said it.

 

“I can’t stand for you to leave, Ang. I can’t stand to move here without you.”

 

He was quiet for a minute, and then, in barely a whisper, he asked, “Why, Zach?”

“Because.” It was all so clear now. I knew exactly what to say. “Because I’m crazy about you, Ang.” It was almost like I punched him. He sucked in his breath and closed his eyes. I could actually see him shaking. “I want you to move here with me. More than anything. And I’m sorry it took me so long to figure it out. But I know now, I want us to be together.” I hooked a finger in one of his belt loops, and he let me pull him closer. “Please tell me you’ll stay, Angelo. You’re all I want. I’ve never wanted anything in my life the way I want you.”

He opened his eyes, and there was so much hope shining in them, it took my breath away. “You think I’m just waitin’ for you to decide you want me, Zach?”

“No.”
And suddenly, he smiled. “Yes.”
And before I could say anything else, he kissed me.

His lips were soft and warm. He tasted like Dr Pepper. His arms were tight around my neck. I put my arms around him and felt his thin body trembling, felt his ribs through his threadbare shirt.

It was incredible, just feeling him against me like that, like we were meant to be that way. Like it was fate.

I was dying to touch him more. To get rid of our clothes and touch his skin and kiss him everywhere. I pulled his shirt up, ran one hand up his bare spine, and felt him shiver. I wanted him so much at that moment, I wasn’t even sure I could wait to get to the motel.

Suddenly he stepped back and broke our kiss. His eyes were bright, and his lips were moist, and he smiled and said, “Been wantin’ to do that a long time.”

“I’m glad you finally did.” I tried to pull him closer again, but he stepped back, away from me.

 

He shook his head, still smiling, still shaking a little. “They’re waitin’ for us.”

 

I groaned. “You’re killing me. You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me all day.”

 

His smile got brighter. “I guess not.” He turned and headed for the door. “Come on.”

We went back to the motel and showered. Not together, to my dismay. I didn’t want to go out to dinner. All I wanted to do was feel him and taste him and make love to him. He didn’t seem to notice. He acted like nothing had changed, and I almost started to wonder if I had dreamed the whole thing.

We drove over to Matt and Jared’s. Matt was in the shower. Jared let us in.

“You want anything to drink?” he asked as I sat on the couch. “Wine would be great.”

He laughed. “I should have been more specific. You want a beer or a Dr Pepper? Because that’s all we have.”

I shook my head, but Angelo said, “I’ll take a beer.” He followed Jared into the kitchen. It was one of those open-floor-plan homes, so it was just a matter of going around the counter to get to the fridge. But when they got there, Angelo put his arm around Jared’s shoulder, and they put their heads together for a minute. Then Jared laughed and handed him a beer, and they headed down the hall together. Matt came out of the shower just then, wearing nothing but a towel and looking amazing. He watched them walk past him into the bedroom. He turned to me and raised his eyebrow. I shrugged at him. But only a few seconds later, they came back out, and Angelo slammed his beer while Matt got dressed, and then we went out for dinner.

They took us to a pizza joint. We were just sitting down when a man walked past us, muttering just loud enough that we all heard the word “fags.”

“Don’t worry about him,” Jared said. “Most of the town is fine. Gerri’s just an asshole.”

 

“Hey, Ram, doesn’t this cafeteria have a no-fags-allowed policy?” Angelo suddenly asked.

 

To my surprise, Matt replied, “They seem to have an opendoor policy on assholes, though, don’t they?”

They grinned at each other like Cheshire cats. Jared looked baffled. I was relieved to see that for once there was somebody further behind than me.

“Did you tell him yet?” Jared asked Angelo, when our pizza came.

Angelo shook his head, and I said, “What?”
Angelo turned red, but Jared said, “Tell him. It’s a good idea.”

He turned toward me, took a deep breath, and started talking. “I was thinkin’, it’s not just movie rentals they’re missin’ here. There’s also no theater. And there’s plenty of room. You could rent the movies in the front, and you could set up a theater in the back. Not like a regular theater, but one of those new kinds, where people sit at tables and you serve wine and shit. You could show old movies. Like some nights you could do a date night, and you could show those stupid John Hughes movies you like so much. You could find a caterer to work with and serve dinner. And other nights you could go for the teens and show old slasher flicks, like
Nightmare on Elm Street
. You could host an after-prom party and show
Carrie
. And Jared said how the English teacher gives a list of movies sometimes, and the kids get extra credit if they watch the movie and write a report or somethin’. So, you could get that list and show those too. There’s probably licensing shit to show movies like that, and you’d need licenses for the food and liquor too. But I bet you could make more money doin’ that and rentin’ the videos. There’s not much for teenagers to do here. I bet they’d dig it.” He stopped short. I realized I had never heard him say so much at one time. His cheeks were red, but he was looking right at me. “What do you think?”

And I could see exactly what he was talking about. I could picture it.

 

“Are you serious? That’s brilliant! Why didn’t you say something?”

 

“I did!”

 

“I even heard about it already,” Matt said to me. “Where were you?”

 

I remembered a drop of white paint rolling down Angelo’s stomach. “I guess I was distracted.”

Matt and Jared invited us back to their house after dinner, and I was pleased when Angelo immediately declined. He talked about the theater idea all the way back to our motel. “You could do a family night too,” he was saying as I unlocked the door to our room. “There’s that space out back. Did you see it? You could put in some playground equipment and hire somebody to supervise so the adults could watch a movie while their kids play.” He sat down on the bed and started taking off his boots and socks. “I don’t know ’bout stuff like lawsuits, though. You have to cover your ass, ’cause of, you know—what’s that legal word?”

“Liability?”

“Yeah, liability. You might need waivers or somethin’.” He stood up and pulled his shirt off. “That would suck. You know some kid would fall too. Never mind, man. That was a bad idea,” he laughed.

I was still standing, leaning against the door, just watching him. He stepped up close to me and looked up at me through his bangs. I brushed the hair out of his eyes, traced his lips with my finger. “I hope you’re not still mad at me.”

He smiled up at me. “Think I’m over it.” He reached into his pants pocket, took something out and pressed it into my hand. It was a travel size bottle of massage oil.

I looked at him in surprise. “Have you been carrying this around all weekend?”

“I got it tonight.”
“Where?”
“From Jared.”

I suddenly remembered them going into the bedroom together and groaned in embarrassment. “Oh God! You asked Jared for lube?”

“Yeah. Why not?”
“It just seems weird.”

He shook his head at me and smiled. “When we first met, I thought you were an uptight prep.”

 

“And now?”