Chapter Fifteen
“You know you can skip this whole dinner thing. I’m sure it’s going to be a drag,” I told him an hour later.
He’d been gung-ho about it, but the thought of forcing him into a room full of, well, probably not very interesting people, to drink mediocre wine and try to make small talk.
.. it wasn’t the sort of thing I thought he’d enjoy.
Or one that would paint me in a particularly positive light, frankly, should we be judged by the company we keep.
Kai looked over at me, partway through buttoning up a light gray shirt. “I said I wanted to come, didn’t I? Unless you don’t want me to?”
“It’s not that,” I started, trying to find the right combination of words. “I just... I’m just not sure it’s going to be even up to your probably low expectations.”
He chuckled, turning back to the mirror. “The alternative was staying home with my parents and listening to them argue over what to watch on TV, you might recall,” he pointed out. “Trust me, this is a rollercoaster of excitement in comparison.”
Sighing, I got back to fixing my tie. “Just don’t blame me when you’re trapped in a dire conversation and there’s no escape in sight,” I warned.
“Deal,” Kai agreed. He glanced at me again. “Shit, am I supposed to be wearing a tie?”
I looked him over. The fitted gray shirt and black pants were simple, sure, but then Kai didn’t really need much to bring out his most striking attributes.
“I’m only wearing one out of habit,” I reassured him. “You look incredible.”
He rolled his eyes. “I just put these pants on, and now you’re trying flattery to get into them? Show some restraint, Tate.” His grin betrayed the joke.
“Everyone’s going to want to talk to you and ignore me,” I said, “not that that’s such a bad thing.”
Kai reached out to gently straighten my collar. It was one of those simple gestures that somehow also felt intensely intimate.
“Well, when they find out I know absolutely nothing about your job, I’m sure they’re going to turn to the expert instead.”
I snorted in disbelief.
#
It wasn’t the biggest conference in the world, or even in the industry, but there were still a few hundred people or more in the hotel ballroom by the time we got there.
Not all of them would necessarily be attending the presentations themselves, of course; I could see plenty of couples milling around.
I had a name tag on my chest, which Kai - grinning, clearly entertained - had insisted on pinning into place. As my guest, he went unlabeled. People would have to actually talk to him, to find out small details like what he called himself, and why the hell he was here.
“This is bigger than I expected,” he muttered to me as we stood in the doorway.
“Don’t worry,” I reassured him, or at least tried to. “It’ll all be over soon.”
Kai nudged me in the ribs. “Why do you instantly assume something negative every time?”
I turned to face him, holding out my hand. “Clearly we’ve never met, I’m Tate,” I said, voice heavy with sarcasm.
He ignored my hand. “Nice to meet you, Tate; I’m Kai and I’m going to the bar.”
I followed him across the room, as he picked his way through the crowd. It turned out to be the perfect vantage point for people-watching. Most were engrossed in their own conversations, but I counted more than a handful - men and women - who clearly noticed Kai.
Not that I could blame them. I’d first realized quite how well his pants hugged his ass while we were leaving the elevator, and even with the pockets of people to weave our way through, their snugness was more than apparent as I trailed him to the bar.
The whole “broad shoulders, narrow waist” thing might be a cliché, but it was a good-looking cliché.
In his wake, of course, I was basically invisible, and that suited me just fine.
“Do you recognize anyone?” Kai asked me, as we picked up glasses from the sea of drinks poured and ready.
I shook my head. “Not really. I don’t usually do these events, to be honest. We have other people on the team who are better at the whole ‘meet-and-greet’ part of it.”
He held out his glass, and I clinked mine against it. “Well, here’s to stretching boundaries.”
I smirked. “We could go back to the room and try stretching something else, instead?”
Kai sighed, shaking his head as he took a sip. “Only time you proposition me, it’s because you want to get out of something. Anybody else would be offended.”
“Anyone else,” I muttered, pointedly, “would’ve said no to the stupid gala dinner.”
A glass of wine later - well, maybe two glasses - I was feeling a little less cynical.
Kai did have his unexpected uses, I’d realized: he was enthusiastic and friendly enough that he could single-handedly take care of small talk for the both of us.
That meant I could just stand there and smile, nod, and drink, without seeming entirely rude in the process.
“So, is Kai on your team?” one lady asked, as he chatted animatedly with a couple of guys from a company I’d already forgotten the name of.
“Oh, no,” I started. Bit my tongue. “No, he’s not.”
How do you describe a relationship that nobody has ever put actual words to?
A relationship that you’re enjoying - absolutely, no doubt about that - but which you couldn’t really begin to define, even if your life depended on it.
“He’s my neighbors’ son who came to use my pool, then give me swimming lessons, and now we fuck” might’ve been accurate, but it didn’t seem entirely party-ready.
Instead the silence spooled out awkwardly, our conversation derailed by my unexpected evasiveness. I only felt like I could exhale again when she conveniently saw “an old friend” in a nearby group, and made her excuses.
“People keep asking how we know each other,” I told him, when we next had a moment to ourselves.
Kai raised an eyebrow. “And what have you been telling them?”
I shrugged. “That you’re my personal physician, and that you have to follow me around because of my weak constitution.”
He laughed. “Well, some of that sounds pretty accurate. But my story is probably more believable.”
Frowning, I took a sip from my almost-empty glass. “What’s your story?”
Kai gave me a look that implied I was a little bit crazy. “Um, that we’re seeing each other?”
‘Like a deer in headlights’ always struck me as a ridiculous phrase before - there didn’t seem like there’d be enough time for an expression beyond “oh shit!” when a car’s bumper was headed your way at 60 miles an hour - but I knew, had I a mirror, that was just what the description of my expression would be.
“You told them we’re together?” I asked, eventually.
Kai kept on giving me that bemused look. “I mean, is that not true?”
I opened my mouth. Closed it again. Tried to think of some words before I opened it the next time.
“You’re the one who doesn’t like putting labels on things,” I pointed out.
Kai snorted. “There’s a difference between embracing that things can be fluid, and just plain ignoring the facts, Tate.”
I did my fish impression again, mouth opening and closing and nothing coming out.
Finally, he took pity on me. “Look,” he said, voice mercifully low, “we can tell them we’re friends-with-benefits, or that we fuck, or even that sometimes you destroy my throat with your dick because we both get off on that.
.. but it seems like it would be easier just to ‘fess up to the possibility that we’ve been dating. ”
It felt like my contribution to the conversation was predominantly staring, dumbstruck, but I didn’t appear to be able to do much about that.
“Okay,” I said, eventually.
Kai looked at me, skeptically. “That doesn’t sound very ‘okay,’ if we’re being totally honest.”
I shrugged, helplessly. “I hadn’t wanted to assume anything.”
His turn to stare. Finally, he shook his head, slowly, as though coming to some great realization.
“You really are ridiculous, and we’re absolutely going to talk about this more sometime, soon, okay?
For now if you could just pretend to be comfortable and confident in the fact that we might be here as a couple, at least our stories will match up. ”
I nodded, grateful at being rescued, even if it was only a temporary reprieve. Kai reached out and took the glass from my hands.
“Now, I’m getting us another drink, because holy fuck after that little mind-bender I know I certainly need one. I’ll only be a minute.”
I watched his back as he eased his way through the crowd.
There was something unmistakably confident in his movements; not pushy, or even particularly forceful.
Just a kind of focused intent, that I guess people picked up on even without realizing it.
Kai just seemed happy to simply occupy the space, somehow.
“He’s adorable.”
I jolted out of my staring, attention snapped back by the voice next to me. Flicked my head around with a sense of having been caught. Even though, rationally, I knew I was allowed to look.
“S-sorry?” I stuttered. An older woman was smiling at me, pleasantly. She nodded in the direction Kai had taken to the bar.
“I said he’s adorable. We were talking just now, and he said he’d come with you.”
Blinking, I tried to navigate the potential gulf of meanings that “come with you” could have in this situation.
What had Kai told her? Did she mean “he’s adorable” in an “oh, lucky you” sort of way, or in a “we had a very nice conversation and he was attentive and made me feel heard” way instead?
Or perhaps some other interpretation that my sluggish brain couldn’t catch up to?
“I mean... yes, yes he is,” I said, eventually. “I mean, yes, we did. Come together, that is.”
Anyone listening might conclude that this was my first time talking to another human, or maybe my first time stringing together a sentence, period.
“How long have the two of you been together, then...” - she glanced down at my name tag - “Tate?”