Chapter 9 Dallas
NINE
DALLAS
I’ll admit, I’d been nervous. Worried they’d think my idea was stupid or not worth their time.
Instead, it turned out I’d been worried for nothing.
Ace took to my idea immediately, suggesting ways to make it a project that would engage and enrich their students and also benefit the community and the museum.
Together, we talked through the potential for exhibits, different subjects their students might take on, and the way it would look once the project was complete.
Energy hummed through me as we talked, and I got so engrossed in our discussion that I forgot everything else until my phone started ringing, startling me out of my concentration.
“Let me just get that,” I murmured to Ace.
When I picked up the phone, I recognized the number as my favorite local Chinese place.
Dinner had arrived. In a hurry, I answered and rushed out to meet the delivery person at the staff entrance to the museum, gathering several bags from her hands and, after giving her a generous tip, hurrying back to my office.
As I stepped back into my office, I hesitated, suddenly worried that Ace hated Italian food or had an allergy I’d forgotten to ask about.
They looked up at me, their smile radiant, and something inside me settled.
I held the bags up and placed them on the table between us, next to the book Ace had been looking through.
“Dinner.”
They grinned and nodded. “Perfect timing, because I’m starving.”
“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got a few different choices from my favorite Italian place.”
Ace closed their eyes for a second and inhaled deeply. “It smells incredible.”
I plunged my hands into the first bag and pulled out spring rolls and rice. The second bag held entrees with sticky rice for dessert.
As we ate, Ace taking to the meal with enthusiasm, we chatted a little more. Ace savored their first bite of cold garlic noodles and gave me a look. “So,” they murmured. “How did you come up with this idea? Just really passionate about local history?”
I shrugged and swallowed my rice. “Queer history is important to me, both personally and professionally. And as a curator, any way I can draw public interest is a win in my book. This seems to combine what I’m passionate about with what I love about my job, with an added benefit of working with the university. ”
“Pardon me if I’m being too forward, but… personally important?”
I nodded, my face heating. “I’m gay.”
Their face was unreadable for a moment before they spoke again. “Gay?”
I shrugged. “I’m not sure that’s the best word. Most of my life I’ve been exclusively into men.” I hesitated for a second before looking directly at my plate when I spoke again. “Until recently.”
“Oh. What… what changed?” They spoke slowly, quietly.
I studiously avoided meeting Ace’s gaze, terrified I’d find humor or amusement in their expression.
I spoke slowly when I did respond. “I met someone who challenged that belief. Someone I’m interested in.
” Finally I glanced up. They were smiling softly, their own cheeks pink to the tips of their ears.
“It was Erica, wasn’t it?”
I cleared my throat. “Erica?”
“The social worker from the plane,” Ace clarified, face serious.
A genuinely surprised laugh escaped me. “I wasn’t talking about Erica.” Were they serious, or did Ace really not know I was interested?
Ace’s serious expression morphed into an amused grin. “Well, that’s a relief to know. I wouldn’t want to have to tell her you were lying about not being into her that night. Also, I win.”
I furrowed my brow as I frowned. “You win?”
“I made you laugh and I didn’t even have to tell another dumb museum joke.”
With a fond sigh and a small smile, I shook my head and looked down at my plate again. I took another bite of rice before Ace spoke.
“Hey, Dallas?”
“Hmm?” I raised my eyebrows as I waited to hear what Ace had to say.
“The feeling is mutual.”
Unsure of what they meant, I tried to remember the last thing I’d said. “You’re… also not interested in Erica?”
Ace laughed, though I hadn’t intended it to be a joke. A moment later, they reached out a hand and placed it on my arm. “I meant that I’m interested in you, too.”
Embarrassed heat from the misunderstanding immediately burned my face even while butterflies filled my stomach in excitement and nervousness. I rubbed the back of my neck with my free hand and looked at Ace’s bright blue eyes. With a nod, I gave them a smile. “I’m glad to hear that.”
We ate quietly for a few minutes and I enjoyed the simplicity of Ace’s company. After a bit, they spoke up again.
“So…”
I waited for them to speak.
“What do you do in your free time?”
“Oh.” I shrugged. “Not much. I spend most of my time working here.”
“And when you leave?”
“I go home and work some more.”
“Well, that’s not exciting,” they teased.
I gave Ace a small, understanding smile and shook my head. “I suppose it’s not. How about you? I bet you’re just a social butterfly.”
With a laugh and a grin, they ducked their head. “You could say that. I just joined a queer kickball team, actually.”
“A queer kickball team?”
They put down their chopsticks. “I know what it sounds like.”
“It sounds like the exact sport bullies used to use to rain misery down on any student who was different in any way.”
“It’s not. I promise. It’s a lot of fun. Mostly a bunch of queer people running around and being silly, and drinking afterwards. You should come to a game sometime.”
“I’d like that.” I put down my own chopsticks. “Would you like that museum tour now?”
“Are you sure you won’t get in trouble for doing this?”
“Definitely not,” I said with a shake of my head. “I do this kind of thing all the time.”
“Ohh. You bring all your… your colleagues to the museum for late-night private tours, then?”
I stood up and gestured for Ace to follow me. “Not at all. I meant that I spend a lot of time here after hours. Security is used to seeing me here, walking through the halls, keeping an eye on my work.”
Ace walked along next to me. I was hyperaware of how close their body was to mine and how our hands could’ve touched if I’d just reached out a tiny bit. “So you don’t bring all your colleagues here then?” Ace playfully bumped my shoulder with their own.
“I’ve never brought anyone here,” I said seriously, warmed by the contact with their shoulder.
“Well,” they murmured. “I’m glad you invited me.”