Chapter 35 Gabriel
GAbrIEL
The party room at The Whiskey Sour had been completely transformed for my birthday celebration. Even though Alex and Kat had both taken the night off, they’d come in early with me to help decorate.
The night was still young, and I was pretty sure the nostalgic theme night would draw a crowd.
Typical Aries behavior: hijacking a whole club for my birthday. Thank you very much.
When I woke up this morning, I was almost surprised that I felt no different.
I’d half expected my joints to crack and my eyes to wrinkle from the moment I’d entered a new decade.
In retrospect, that was a silly thing to fear.
Taylor was two years older than me and, in my very unbiased opinion, he looked fantastic.
It felt impossible that this competent, smart, responsible, loyal man chose me, a chaos gremlin, to fall in love with. Even though my thirty-year-old body didn’t feel any different, I felt like I was about to be graded on my life performance thus far and somehow fall short.
It turned out there was no report card delivery waiting to judge me for how well I adulted during my twenties.
There was just the man I love waking me up with my dick in his mouth, in my cozy apartment surrounded by all my plant babies.
He brought me pastries from my favorite coffee shop and a cozy playlist while we snuggled and ate breakfast in bed.
My parents called around lunchtime. I put the call on speaker, knowing Taylor would make me hang up the phone before they could make more of their passive-aggressive remarks.
“Feliz cumpleanos, mijo,” Mamá said.
I clenched, waiting for the lecture that never came.
“Te deseamos lo mejor,” Papá continued. “Te amo.”
We chatted for about ten minutes, catching them up on my upcoming party, before hanging up. While things still felt strange between us, at least they managed to wish me a happy birthday without complaining about my life choices.
Maybe I didn’t own a home, or dominate a high-powered career, or have two point five children. Maybe I hadn’t made my parents proud by whatever made-up metric they’d created for me. But damn it, I was happy, and I was having a blast living this one wild life.
And if Taylor could love my little chaotic self, maybe I could let myself believe I was lovable.
It was the best birthday I could remember before we’d even made it to the party, which I realized with some shock.
I’d always been happiest when surrounded by people—the more, the merrier.
Somehow, staying in with Taylor had become more satisfying than being swallowed by a crowd of friends and acquaintances.
Not that I was ready to give that up entirely. I’d spent months waiting for this party.
Speaking of Taylor, I barely recognized him as he made his way from the front of the bar to our little roped-off party area.
He’d wanted to keep his costume a surprise, and wow, I was surprised.
Taylor was in full drag as Britney Spears from her iconic Hit Me Baby One More Time music video.
Long blonde pigtail braids, that short, pleated skirt he’d thrifted, knee-high socks, and a dress shirt tied over a padded bra.
“Hot damn, you make a sexy Britney, baby.” I pulled him into an enthusiastic kiss.
Taylor laughed as he pulled back, “Careful, don’t mess up the makeup. I had to watch way too many YouTube tutorials to get this contouring right.”
“Let no one say you aren’t committed to the cause,” Kai teased as he came up behind us.
He looked hilarious in his wide-legged Junco jeans, thick eyeliner, and Hot Topic accessories. The shoulder-length hair he usually kept up in a bun was hanging loose around his face.
Margo and Benji showed up dressed in complementary plaid outfits like Cher and Dionne from Clueless.
The volleyball crew wore 90s-themed workout attire.
Personally, I’d chosen a Fresh Prince of Bel-Air look: overalls, a colorful, oversized tee, and sneakers.
It was so much fun watching everyone walk the ‘runway’ across the dance floor as they entered, and we filled the bar with whoops and screams each time someone arrived in costume.
Contrary to how it seemed, considering I’d planned this massive party at a bar for my birthday, I didn’t want to be the center of attention. I just wanted an excuse to get all of our friends together in one place. So, I’d requested no singing or cake. Which, of course, my friends ignored.
Alex appeared from behind the bar with a cake shaped like the number thirty, covered in rainbow sprinkles. By the time I blew out my candles, Taylor had acquired a microphone from who knows where. I glared at Kat, and she shrugged innocently. I wasn’t buying it.
“Thanks so much for coming out to celebrate Gabriel’s forthcoming AARP membership,” Taylor said, and our friends cheered.
“This morning, Gabriel asked me if his adulting report card had been lost in the mail, and wouldn’t it be nice if someone could tell us whether or not we were succeeding at the game of life?
As far as I know, there isn’t an official report card or rubric unless mine was also lost in the mail. ”
Taylor threw his arm around me with a laugh, and I grinned wryly at him.
“Gabriel, you’re the one who taught me that the most important metric we should aim for in life is happiness and self-fulfillment—not some imaginary benchmark created by society or our family or by comparing ourselves to others.
And in that case, I’d say you’ve not only passed with flying colors, but you’ve also been tutoring all of us in the subject.
I can’t wait to see what magic you make happen next. Happy birthday, angel.”
I pulled him into a hug to hide my flushed face as our friends applauded and whispered in his ear, “Are you done embarrassing me?”
Taylor just laughed and nuzzled into my hair. “For now.”
“Estas son las mananitas…” Oscar sang dramatically off-key as he wormed his way into our hug. “Happy birthday, primo.”
Taylor’s eyes widened in amusement.
“You better not be groping my boyfriend.” I narrowed my eyes at Oscar.
“I would never,” he said as he lifted his hand onto Taylor’s shoulder before leaning in and kissing each of us on the cheek.
“How many of those cosmos have you had?” Taylor said with a chuckle.
“I don’t have to drive tonight,” Oscar replied. “Which means I don’t have to count.”
I rolled my eyes affectionately before unwinding myself from his grasp and pushing us toward the dance floor.
Our costumed group made quite a scene on the dance floor, rocking out to the Spice Girls, Madonna, and Janet.
I held Taylor close and let my hand wander up his skirt while we danced together, almost giving myself a heart attack when I felt the straps of a jock.
His smug smile as he pulled my body flush against his told me he was getting exactly the reaction he’d planned on.
“You’re just full of birthday surprises, aren’t you?” I said, my mouth close to his ear.
“You only turn thirty once. I wanted to make it special.”
I had only sappy things to say in response to that, and I was tapped out on sappiness for the evening, so I pulled his face to mine and kissed him hard.
I devoured him, pouring all of my gratitude and love into that kiss.
Taylor’s body pushed against mine, his arms around my waist, holding me as close as I could get with clothes between us.
The party drifted away around us, and I was lost.
It felt both impossible and inevitable that when I’d sent that paper airplane sailing through my highway hottie’s car window a few months ago, I’d be here on this dance floor with him tonight.
I hadn’t thought hard about the spontaneous decision.
Even in my wildest dreams, I might have imagined having a fun little fling, maybe a date for my birthday party.
Falling in love wasn’t even on my radar.
I’d been told by lover after lover that I was just a good-time guy.
Someone you had fun with until a serious relationship came along.
Too silly for a meaningful romance. Too spontaneous to settle down with.
Yet those were Taylor’s favorite things about me, what made me worth loving.
And seeing myself through his eyes was a miracle.
Everything changed because I didn’t have to change for Taylor to love me.
I’d never be the spreadsheet guy in our relationship.
I’d never remember to contribute to my 401(k).
I’d probably always get sucked into new hobbies, buy a bunch of supplies, and have them collect dust in a random closet a month later.
And I’d be the one dragging us skydiving, or go-kart racing, or salsa dancing.
Somehow, Taylor saw all of that and loved it. Loved me. For all those things I’d always seen as imperfections. He created this snug little safe space where I could truly let my freak flag fly.
As if reading my mind, Taylor wrapped me in his arms and said, “You make everything so much fun. I’m lucky to be here with you.”
“Right back at you, baby.”
The colorful lights of the dance floor shimmered in his blue eyes, and I knew I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
The End