Chapter 12 Ace
TWELVE
ACE
I spent the next few days replaying the museum date in my mind, remembering how Dallas sounded when he came, the way his fingers felt as they raked through my hair, and the way he tasted on my tongue.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the wrecked way his voice sounded saying my name.
It was all too delicious to handle, honestly, and I was dying to do it again.
I didn’t want to push him, though, and scare him off.
I didn’t want to be too much for him, like I’d been for other partners.
Instead, I waited until Dallas texted me first, and as every day passed I got more and more worried he wasn’t interested in me anymore.
That Friday, my phone buzzed just as I was getting in from a long day of teaching, meetings, and advising sessions. I couldn’t stop the smile on my face when I discovered who it was.
Dallas: You didn’t forget about me, did you?
Ace: I would never. I’ve been wishing that you’d text.
Dallas: Glad I could make your wish come true.
I grinned at my phone and debated on how to answer. Polite? Flirty?
Ace: If you really want to make my wish come true, why don’t you come over tonight?
Dallas’s text bubbles appeared and disappeared several times. I imagined he was blushing furiously and scowling at his phone, trying to formulate a response. When none came, I backpedaled.
Ace: Sorry if that was coming on too strong. I’d just really like to see you again.
I waited for a response, and while I waited, I tried to distract myself, knowing it might be a while.
I pulled some essays from my backpack and began to grade.
My heart wasn’t in it, though—no matter how hard I tried to focus, I couldn’t stop thinking about Dallas’s blue eyes, the blond hair that fell in his face, and the gentle way he pulled me to him when we kissed for the first time.
Everything about that night was seared in my brain and playing on an endless loop.
After what felt like an eternity but was probably less than ten minutes, my phone vibrated again.
Dallas: I’d like that, too.
I laughed a little. All that stressing for that response? Certainly Dallas had debated what to say for several minutes while I’d stared uselessly at essays, and in the end, he’d come up with four innocuous, unassuming words.
Ace: How about tonight?
Dallas: I wish I could, but I have plans tonight. Tomorrow?
I checked my calendar quickly to discover that I had a student showcase I’d committed to attending. I idly wondered if I could get away with skipping it and going unnoticed, but I had a reputation to uphold and I didn’t want to seem like a flake.
Ace: Can’t. Work stuff.
The back-and-forth continued until we realized we’d have to wait until the following weekend to see each other again. I hated it. A full week with nothing to get me by except memories and my hand.
In the meantime, in between texting Dallas flirty messages, I tried to fill my non-work evenings with things to keep me distracted.
To that end, I called my brother Aaron and begged him to meet me for drinks one night that week so I could fill him in on what I’d been up to and catch up—on his life and in general.
The following Thursday, we met at a bar near his apartment, which Aaron shared with his longtime best friend. I arrived a few minutes before Aaron, so I took a seat at the bar and ordered drinks for both of us while I waited.
Eventually, Aaron arrived, clapping a hand on my shoulder and perching on the barstool next to me. “Been waiting long?”
I shook my head and tilted my bottle of beer toward the one I’d ordered for him. “Not at all. Thanks for coming.”
“Anything for my baby sib.”
I kicked him under the bar. “I’m only fifteen months younger than you and we’re both in our thirties now. I’m not a baby.” I said it without conviction or taking offense, though. Aaron had always called me his baby sibling and I didn’t mind it too much.
He sipped his beer and let out a sigh as he placed the bottle back on the bar top. “That’s good.” A moment later, he fixed me with his patented big brother stare. “Now, what’s got you all tied up in knots?”
My mind wandered to Dallas for a second, thinking about tying him up in knots. I shook my head at myself and chuckled. “There’s a guy.”
Aaron smirked. “Of course there is.”
I scoffed and narrowed my eyes at him. “How would you know?”
“There’s always a guy.”
“That’s not true,” I protested.
He snorted and rolled his eyes. “Right. Because sometimes there’s a woman. Or a nonbinary person.”
I tilted my head a little, considering his words. “Fair.”
“Tell me about him.”
As we drank, I described Dallas. I told Aaron how we met, the way Dallas had reluctantly let me rescue him, and about our date—minus the ending.
I told him about the local queer history project that he wanted my help with and confessed my worries that the museum wouldn’t go for it. And then I confessed my deepest fear.
“Here’s the thing,” I said. “He’s so… serious.”
“He’s an asshole?”
“No,” I said immediately. “Not in the least. It’s just, he doesn’t smile much. Laughs even less. He doesn’t seem to invite a lot of excitement into his life.”
“So he’s not going to be a partier. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“What if… What if he thinks I’m too much?”
Aaron put his hand on my arm. “Then fuck him. He doesn’t deserve you. And you don’t deserve to be stuck with someone who feels that way.”
I nodded along with his words, gaining confidence. “You’re right.”
“Damn right, I am.” He swigged his beer, a self-congratulatory grin on his face.
“Okay, okay. Let’s not let that go to your head.”
I took another sip from my beer bottle before sliding off my stool. “Be right back.” As I turned to walk away, I ran directly into someone who’d apparently been standing directly behind me. “Oh, sorry.”
“Ace?”
The person I’d crashed into, blond hair tousled, cheeks pink, and looking like sex on legs, was Dallas.