Chapter 11 #2
The sofa is wide enough for us to lie side by side and jerk each other off.
We both come quick. I don’t know if he thought about it, but I wondered if he’d change his mind about all this when he got back.
He’d go to one of the nightclubs and find someone else.
I wouldn’t have the right to be upset, would I?
We’re not really… together. He said it himself—we’re just getting each other off.
But if that’s the case, why are we lying on my sofa like this? Why am I lazily kissing his neck, and why is he tracing his fingers up and down my spine? Why does it feel so nice and comfortable?
“What are you doing tonight?” he asks.
“I’m having dinner with my parents. Around seven. What are you doing?”
“How about after that?”
“Nothing really. Why?” I turn to him.
He shrugs. “I dunno. Just thought I’d take you out tonight.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. That way I could be the first one to wish you happy birthday.”
I sit up to look him in the face, at his satisfied smile, and I grin from ear to ear. “You motherfucker. I didn’t think you’d remember.”
“I didn’t remember exactly. Had to check. But I knew it was coming up.”
“Okay. Yeah. We can go out.”
“I was thinking Osko’s or something. Buy you a drink.”
My stomach flutters. “Fine with me. But won’t people think we’re there to fight if they see us together?”
He laughs, sitting up. “I know a guy at Osko’s. We’ll be good.”
“All right. Ten o’clock?”
He gives me a peck on the lips. “I’ll pick you up.”
If this is really just about getting each other off, why would he take me for a drink for my birthday?
And why does it make me so incredibly happy?
Harvey shows up at ten, riding in a Mercedes.
“When did you get this?” I ask him, getting in.
“It’s not mine.”
“Did you steal it?”
He gives me a look and laughs. “No. Well, borrowed. It’s my dad’s. He never drives it, so.”
Harvey drives us out of Hollywood Hills to the Strip. On the way, a Hot Night song comes on the radio, and he changes the station.
“I like that one,” I say. “I had that album.”
“They’re splitting up,” he says, pulling into Osko’s lot.
“Really?”
He shrugs. “We’ll see. They’ve gotten into disagreements before. It always blows over.”
Once we’re out of the car, walking toward the club and the line out front, I start to feel self-conscious. I’m out with Harvey Laden. We’re walking into a club together, and it feels like everyone is watching us, confused. Shocked. Maybe even worried.
Harvey’s guy lets us in ahead of everyone. We sit at a bar upstairs and a beefy bartender with hairy arms comes over to get our drink order. I get a whiskey and Harvey gets a beer.
It feels like everyone is staring at us.
Probably not sure what to make of us sitting peacefully at a bar together.
But maybe I’m just paranoid. Maybe we’re recognized for the same reasons we would have been before.
Speaking of which, a girl comes over and greets Harvey.
She leans in to whisper something in his ear, and he shakes his head. She walks away.
“Who was that?” I lean close to yell over the music.
“She used to be a groupie,” he says, taking a sip of his beer.
I spot some people snorting coke on a table nearby.
A twinge hits me, and I turn away from it.
Another girl comes up to Harvey, a little older.
She slides her hand over his arm and says something I can’t hear even though we’re right next to each other.
He replies, and she winks at me as she walks off.
“Who was that?” I laugh.
He shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “We went out a few times. A long time ago. Just saying hello.”
“That was a long hello.” I shift my gaze to her.
Being Pete Laden’s son—and looking almost exactly like him—has probably gotten him laid more times than I can imagine.
He’s so attractive. I’d never really thought about it before.
Of course he could have anyone he wants.
I’m sure everyone here would let him fuck them if he asked nicely.
Something possessive and envious begins to boil in my gut. I finish my whiskey in one gulp and ask for another.
Harvey leans closer to me. “Don’t drink too fast, Hollywood. It’s been a while.”
“I’m okay,” I assure him, taking a sip from whiskey number two.
Harvey smiles and says into my ear, “I think we got thrown out of here for fighting once. You remember?”
“I think so.” I nudge him. “It was probably your fault.”
He laughs and then it fades. “You want to go dance?”
I look at the dance floor, all laid out below a large booth for the DJ.
Osko’s isn’t exactly a gay club. It’s not like Studio One.
But there are men dancing with men and women dancing with women.
There are even a couple of women making out in the corner, just a few feet away from the group with the blow. I tear my gaze away from it again.
“Not right now,” I reply. “It’s too crowded. Later.”
I look back over at the coke. A funny sensation is at the back of my throat. They’re cutting lines with a credit card. I always came to places like this with some. I knew just how much to do and how many ludes to take to get me to the point where I wouldn’t have to think about anything.
“Hey.”
A hand lands on my arm, and I turn to a familiar face.
I recognize Don’s smile. “How ya been?”
“Uh. Good. How about you?”
He shrugs. “All right. You want to dance?”
“Well, um… I’m kind of here with somebody…” I glance at Harvey beside me.
Harvey gives him a tight smile. “Hi.”
Don apparently didn’t notice him. “Oh. Hi.” He turns back to me. “Well, if it doesn’t work out with him, call me.”
As Don walks off, Harvey glares at him. He leans over to me. “Who was that?”
“He worked on the Kenny Kincaid show.”
Harvey just stares at me.
“And I might have taken him back to my place once. But it was a long time ago.”
Barely two months ago is more like it.
I didn’t realize how fast all of this happened. The Kenny Kincaid show wasn’t that long ago, and the retreat felt suspended in time. I’m not sure I like sharing Harvey with other people. We were alone together for most of that time. No past came up to tap you on the shoulder.
Harvey is about to say something when someone comes up and taps him on the shoulder.
This time it’s a guy I don’t recognize. Harvey leans forward, tilting his head so the guy can speak into his ear.
Whatever he says makes Harvey laugh. They chat for a few more moments before Harvey remembers I’m here and introduces us.
Mike. His name is Mike.
Harvey looks happy talking to Mike. They chat for a while, and I look at nothing in particular.
The whiskey is really going through me though, so I excuse myself to the men’s room.
When I come back, Harvey is surrounded, and someone’s in my spot.
He always had people around him before, didn’t he?
I don’t think I’ve ever seen him out anywhere alone.
I tell the guy in my spot that it’s mine, and he gives me a look. Harvey sees and tells the guy I’m with him. I order another whiskey. They leave, and Harvey eyes me.
His eyes track my drink. “How many is that?”
“I’m fine,” I say even though I’m pleasantly buzzed and no zipper on my mouth. “You’re really Mr. Popularity, aren’t you?”
He shrugs. “I used to come here a lot. I guess I know a lot of people. I’m sure you do too.”
“But you’re here with me,” I say. I don’t mean for it to come out as bitter as it does.
Harvey swivels fully in the bar stool to look at me.
His expression says he’s about to taunt me, provoke me.
I recognize it, but he doesn’t get a chance to respond.
Someone else right behind him to say hello.
He could just tell them he’s here with someone—he’s with me—and then send them on their way.
But he doesn’t. Maybe he never intended to be here with me.
He said he was just going to buy me a drink and wish me happy birthday.
What did I think? That this was a date?
I’ve never really been on a date before.
At least not one that wasn’t staged. But I know this isn’t how it’s supposed to be, which means we’re really just blow job buddies.
That shouldn’t cause the sourness in my gut.
That shouldn’t make me feel bad at all. That should be from the whiskey.
I finish my drink and look around. I spot Don near the dance floor, leaning over the railing, sipping a drink.
I wonder if Harvey would even notice if I left him and went off with someone else.
I slide off the bar stool, a little unsteady, and look at Don again. He catches my eye and smiles. I leave Harvey to socialize with all his admirers and head over to Don.
“Wanna dance?” I ask him.
He sets his drink down, and we move onto the dance floor. George McCrae is playing, the lights spinning blue and purple. Don doesn’t hesitate to press right up against me. The back of my neck tingles, hairs standing on end.
“Did I ever tell you I like redheads?”
“No.” I glance behind me. Harvey sees us. He shouldn’t look so pissed. After all, this isn’t anything. I don’t even know why he wanted to see me when we got back. It was probably a bad idea. We should go back to being acquaintances.
“I was hoping I’d get to see you again,” Don says. “It was fun last time.”
I look away from Harvey. “Yeah.”
He looks over my shoulder. “What’s the deal with that guy you’re with?”
“Nothing. We just came here together. That’s all.”
“Is he your guy?”
I spin all the way around so Don is behind me, his crotch rubbing against my ass.
“Is this how you two get your kicks?” Don says in my ear. “I can dig that.”
Harvey’s still watching us, only now his expression is back to indifferent arrogance. Completely unamused. He can turn it on and off. When he was pissed just a minute ago, he cared. Now he doesn’t.
“You think he might want to join us?” Don says.