Chapter 12 Connor #2
“Thought you said something.”
Fuck.
“Uh, yeah. I asked, why are you jealous?”
“Because Benji and Dane are the two most beautiful men I’ve ever seen in my life. No offense.”
I scoff, though my insides feel all twisty. “Beautiful? Can a dude even be beautiful?”
“Of course. You should know that, Connor. You might be straight, but you’re still an artist. Beauty can be in anything and anyone.”
Dane’s head turns, and I swear his expression brightens when he sees me.
He lifts a hand, waving at me or waving me over.
I can’t tell which, but when Margot asks why I didn’t bring Thalia, I’m reminded of what a shitty boyfriend I’d be to acknowledge even an objective beauty in Dane.
As badly as I want to be in his orbit again, I stay put.
“She had other plans,” I say. “Hopefully, I can introduce you guys soon. She’s not too happy about me having a female friend.”
“Ooo, a female friend. Scandalous!” she teases, poking me in the side.
I’m laughing when the same goth girl from the bathroom line walks past. Margot quits poking me to grab onto the girl’s arm. She’s taller than Margot, but still petite, olive-skinned and with black hair cut above shoulder-length.
“Pilar,” Margot calls her, “this is Connor, my male friend.”
“Ew, sounds creepy,” Pilar says.
“Nice to meet you.” I put my hand out, but Pilar recoils.
“Yeah, I don’t shake hands with straight men.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” I take my hand back, struggling to process that.
“Holy shit, I’m just kidding,” Pilar laughs. Her teeth shine extra white against her dark lipstick, and she gives me her hand. “Did you actually apologize for being straight?”
“I…I dunno.” I shake her hand as I chuckle through my uncertainty.
Margot coils her arms around Pilar and tells her to stop picking on me, which only makes me blush.
“Aw, he’s blushing!” Pilar enthuses, poking me in the stomach.
What the heck is going on?! She dislodges herself from Margot’s hold and says she’s off to find someone.
She leaves black lip marks on Margot’s cheek before disappearing into the crowded living room.
I think little of it until I catch the hearts in Margot’s eyes.
With a wistful sigh, she says, “That was Pilar. Isn’t she so cool?”
“Yeah, super cool. And…she’s a friend of yours?”
Tipping her head up, Margot shows me a smile that’s too close to a pout to be wholly joyful. “She’s my muse, and unfortunately, has a girlfriend.”
Now I’m pouting, hugging her to my side. “Maybe she won’t have a girlfriend much longer.”
“They’ve been together for seven years.”
“Oof. I’m sorry, Margot. But hey, you never know.”
“I guess.” She peels away and pats my chest, mumbling something about needing another drink before leaving my side.
I hadn’t realized Margot was into women, but it makes sense now that I’m soaking in her queer-saturated social pool.
With Margot gone, and Dane still chatting away with Benji, I don’t know what to do with myself, so I end up in a conversation with a couple of classmates about an ornery professor I’m glad I don’t have.
They pass around a vape pen, and I take a small hit.
I haven’t smoked since I left Sacramento, but I was never a stoner.
It takes the edge off when I’m desperate.
With how difficult it is to take my eyes off Dane right now, I’d say I’m desperate.
My muse, I think as my lungs fill with mango flavored THC.
When he’s not at the house, Dane is a social butterfly.
Among his friends, he’s a goofball with sophomoric zeal, but among these people, he’s a beacon of exuberant charm.
He’s not wrestling anyone or doing jackass dares, but everyone he gets into conversation with beams at him—laughing, leaning in, and touching his arm an inordinate number of times. Guys and girls.
I’d seen Dane get a blowie from a stranger, but I’d never seen a person flirt with him the way some of these people are.
It’s so blatant, I’m shook, growing antsy and eager to leave, but I also love how happy Dane looks.
He never looks happy at home, around people who treat him like a burden. Like he’s pathetic.
The crowd increases in this small apartment while Dane and I mingle separately. Someone shows up with cold hard seltzers, and I sip on one with my back against the wall between the TV and the kitchen.
“You’re Connor?” An unfamiliar voice startles my gaze away from Dane to someone beside me, standing a bit too close for comfort.
Benji, Margot’s roommate. I recognize him from his eyebrow piercing and the grayscale tattoos on his arm.
He looks at me curiously, mouth tight as if he’s trying not to smile.
“Yeah, hey.” I trade my can into my left hand so I can shake Benji’s with my right.
“Margot talks about you all the time.”
“Oh no.”
Benji laughs and sips from his Solo cup before tipping his chin toward the crowd. “I was talking to your man over there.”
Following Benji’s nod, my eyes zero in on Dane again as he’s caught in conversation with another guy who is way too pretty to be straight.
I’m not sure if pretty is Dane’s type, but either way, I don’t like the way the dude touches Dane’s arm while they talk.
How many more arm touches will it take for Dane to take one of these guys into a bedroom and lock the door?
I’d have to leave. Anger would have nothing on how devastated I’d be. The thought alone feels like a crushing weight on my heart.
“Do you know he’s in love with you?” Benji’s loaded question whips my focus back to him.
“Huh?”
With his angular features defining into a small smirk, Benji leans in closer and says, “It’s pretty obvious, the way he talks about you. Believe me, I tried desperately to change the subject, but everything came right back around to you.”
I’m too stunned to think up a response. Too busy wondering what Dane could be saying about me when the most interesting thing about my life is Dane himself. Trying not to read into all of this is difficult when my heart is pumping so erratically.
“We’re just friends.”
“Uh huh.” Benji nods with an expression like I’m full of shit. “I don’t know how you can stand being just-friends with someone like Dane. You’re either the most heterosexual dude in the world, or there is something seriously wrong with him.”
“There’s nothing wrong with him. He’s a great catch.”
“Guess that’s good to hear. I know a lot of guys who’d be interested in taking him off the market.”
And if Dane were really just a friend, that would excite me. Dane deserves to be taken off the market. He deserves a man who will keep him grounded, keep him safe, and make him feel loved. Someone to fill the hole his family left in him until his happiness is as bursting as his personality.
Yet, my body reacts to Benji’s statement like it’s a threat.
Like he’s plotting to take Dane away from me.
Sure, Dane and I have had our ups and downs, but we’re stronger for it now.
Dane hooking up with someone else again would hurt, but I’d get over it, because our friendship is more important than any meaningless blowjob.
But if Dane ever gets a boyfriend, what use will he have for me?
If he falls for someone who will do for him all the things I can’t, will that be the end of us?
Benji waltzes off, leaving me to stew on his words alone until a different body is at my side.
“Hey,” Dane says, slightly out of breath. He picks the drink out of my hand and takes a long swallow. “It’s hot in here.”
When the can is back in my hand, I put my lips to where Dane’s just were. After a quick sip, I lean close to ask him over the music, “Find yourself a boyfriend yet?”
“Ha! No way.”
“None of the guys you’ve been flirting with are insatiable bottoms?”
A wild-eyed grin brightens Dane’s features. “Who says that’s what I’m looking for?”
“I thought—” I cut myself off, realizing nothing good will come from this topic. As badly as I want to know what Dane is into, I don’t know how I’ll cope with the strange jealousy or the inevitable boner.
“Dance with me,” he suddenly says, hand curling around my wrist.
“No one is dancing.”
“Not yet.”
Hard as I try, I’m no match against the strength of Dane’s wiles.
He peels me from the wall and buries us in the thick of Margot’s guests.
His moving body reminds me of the music playing around us.
I bob my head, feeling ridiculous until I realize Dane is the playmaker at this party.
Now that he’s dancing, everyone’s dancing.
Suddenly, I’m the oddball for not dancing.
I down the rest of my drink, discard the can onto the coffee table, and let my buzz take over.
Swaying my hips and rolling my shoulders in a pathetic attempt at rhythm, I take stock of everyone around me and how dissimilar they are from the sorts of people I ran with in Sacramento.
Margot’s friends wear their individuality like badges of honor—something to be celebrated.
Whether they’re in all-black or draped in every color of the rainbow, the last thing anyone’s trying to be is like anyone else.
Yet, they all treat each other like friends.
They treat me like a friend, even though I’m just… Connor.
Between the sofa and the bookshelf, Alec is tongue-deep into the face of another guy from our critique workshop. Stomach flipping, I turn away and bump into a girl I don’t recognize. After a quick apology, I veer the opposite way until I’m pressed against Dane’s back.
His familiarity soothes me, his scent cradling me as I hug him for safety. The nape of his neck is hot and damp against my forehead, and his body is firm in my arms. He stills, and I simply cling to him, rejoicing in how stable he is when I’m so unsteady.
He turns in my embrace, loosening my hold. Strong hands clasp my upper arms, just as they did when I nearly drowned in a blue-green sea.