Chapter 10 - Deacon #2
Food is one of my interests. I like to cook.
I like challenging myself with new textures and flavors, and I like feeding people.
It’s far easier than trying to have a conversation, and it keeps me busy when I’ve run out of things to do.
Restaurants, however, take all the easy parts away from me, forcing me to sit face to face with someone and talk.
Evan opens the restaurant door, and I wait for him to walk in, but he’s looking at me, not moving. “Go ahead,” he says.
He follows me inside and lets the host know we have a reservation. Once we’re seated, I realize Evan is still staring at me. When I pick up the menu, he reaches across the table and gently pushes it down, forcing me to look up at him.
“We’re here,” he says. “Please tell me what’s going on. I’ve been stressing about this since Monday morning.”
“Oh.”
Causing him stress wasn’t my intention. I swallow hard, trying to convince myself that this will be fine. It’s not like I’m asking him to pay for a veterinary surgery. He’ll probably think I’m ridiculous for dragging him out to dinner to tell him what I have to say.
“It’s just that I started seeing someone, and I wanted you to know because I’m hoping he might be coming by from time to time. Or not. I’m not sure, but in case, I wanted to make sure you weren’t surprised.”
His lips part, and his eyelids flutter. He’s got very blue eyes. Lighter than mine by a lot. Since his mouth is halfway open, I wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t.
So I say more. “It’s new. It was kind of a blind date. Ended up being with Isaac Sullivan.”
Evan startles, and a few seconds pass before a word comes out. “What?”
“Yeah,” I say. “Small world, I guess.”
“You and Isaac? You’ve been seeing Isaac? You were his date Friday night?”
I cock my head to look at him. “You know about that?”
Evan sits back in his chair and breaks eye contact, which is a relief. There’s only so much eye contact I can do.
“Oh my God,” he whispers.
“That was all,” I say in case he was expecting more.
He looks at me again and stares at me for so long, I end up looking down at my menu so I don’t have to stare back.
“I need a minute.” Abruptly, Evan walks away from the table. I expect him to head for the back toward the restrooms, but he’s going in the direction of the front door.
I scowl after him as he leaves the restaurant. The last thing I notice is him pulling his phone out of his pocket.
He must have gotten a call.
I have an idea what Evan likes to eat, so when the waitress stops by, and he hasn’t returned, I order a few appetizers that look interesting. I also get him a light beer and a glass of water.
It’s more than fifteen minutes before he comes back in. He stares at the table a moment where the drinks and a bowl of pita and hummus are waiting before taking his seat.
I glance at his expression. His eyelids are pink. His already too blue eyes are almost transparently light. His cheeks are red, too, and I wonder if it got colder while he was outside.
“Sorry about that,” he says. “I didn’t realize you were dating or…fuck I wasn’t sure you were even gay.”
“I am.”
“Yeah.” He stares hard at his menu. His hands are under the table, not reaching for the food or his drink. “So…this started last Friday, I’m guessing?”
“How’d you know?”
“I manage his entire schedule. He was nervous about the date. He almost didn’t go. I guess he’s glad he did.”
“I am,” I say.
Evan sucks in a breath and nods. “Sorry, I’m just—this wasn’t at all what I was expecting.”
“Are you upset?” I ask.
“I’m—” He shakes his head like he’s trying to clear it. “So you like him?”
“Yeah. He’s great.”
“And you think he might want to come by the apartment sometime? To see you?”
I frown. “Only if you’d be okay with it.”
“Does he know we live together? Because I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned that to him.”
I try to remember if I ever did. He’s brought up Evan in passing, but I’m not sure I volunteered the fact that he’s my roommate. It doesn’t seem like something I would do. “I don’t think so.”
“Well…before you invite him over, you might want to.”
“Do you think it’d be awkward since you work for him?”
“Something like that.” Evan finally reaches for his beer and takes a long gulp.
“Okay,” I say.
“Actually,” he sets down the glass. “It might be better if he doesn’t come around.”
“Okay—if you’re not comfortable—I could be getting ahead of myself anyway. I tend to do that. Over plan.” I feel Evan staring at me again, so I make myself look at him.
He’s chewing his lip so aggressively, I want to reach over and pull it away from his teeth. “I need to tell you something,” he finally says.
“Okay.”
“I’m not trying to upset you. I’m genuinely not.”
I wait, unable to decipher the expression on his face.
“Isaac and I hook up.”
“Oh.”
Okay. That’s news.
“I’m assuming he didn’t mention that.”
Didn’t he, though? “He mentioned being interested in someone…”
Evan’s brows lift. “I’m sure he didn’t mean me, but…actually I don’t know of anyone else, so maybe that’s worth asking.”
“I think he might have meant you,” I say. “Assuming hook up is present tense.
Evan gives a weird sounding laugh and shakes his head. “Yes, but no—our arrangement is strictly utilitarian.”
That’s an odd way of putting it. “What makes you say that?”
He gestures my way. “Because he dates men all the time, and he and I just…fuck,” he finishes softly, dropping his hand.
I nod. “Okay, I get it.”
“Which part?” he asks.
Honestly, I’m not sure. I was referring to understanding his statement in general. Logistics. “That it’s casual for you?” I attempt.
He starts drinking his water. “Totally. A hundred percent.”
I attempt to picture Evan and Isaac together, which isn’t my strong suit.
I’ve deliberately tried to never think of Evan that way—in a sexual sense.
I haven’t always been successful, but I’ve never jerked off picturing him, at least. Not because he isn’t attractive—he’s very attractive.
He’s got an incredible body. His ass is one of the best asses I’ve ever seen.
I have wondered why he’s single. I knew he was gay because he told me before he moved in, but I’ve never seen him with anyone. Is it because he’s involved with Isaac?
“I have to tell you something else,” he says suddenly.
I wait.
“We did it today. In his office. I didn’t know he was seeing you, or that it was—I didn’t know. Should I have told you that? I’m sorry.”
I struggle to answer the question. I wish I could tell what he wants me to say because I find I don’t have many feelings about it one way or the other.
I consider Evan’s tone to determine how to proceed.
Is it defensive? Ashamed? Elevated, yes.
His words are quick, rushed almost. His smile is gone.
Is he panicking? “I can’t tell what you’re asking me,” I admit.
“I’m just trying to be honest with you. In case Isaac hasn’t been. I’m not trying to throw him under the bus or anything, I really like him, I just—I like you, too, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I’m not hurt,” I assure him. “Surprised, but we haven’t talked about being exclusive or anything. I just wanted to keep seeing him, so…that’s the only reason I mentioned anything.”
Evan sucks his lips into his mouth and takes a breath. “Thanks. Um…okay. I’m glad you hit it off. Isaac is amazing. You’re amazing, so…yeah. I’m happy for you.”
He doesn’t sound happy. His words are flat. Toneless.
“Hey,” I say. “I’m not really all that great at subtext. I don’t know if you know that about me, but if you could say what you mean, that would help. I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not.”
“I’m not trying to be,” he says.
“Okay. But it doesn’t sound like you’re actually happy.”
“No,” he says, the word tight and almost forced. “I guess you’re right. But it’s your life, and if Isaac is who you want, and he wants you…that’s great. I mean—okay, not great, but I’m fine. Really. I’ll be fine.”
“Not fine, though?” I ask, because people throw that word around a lot and then act the complete opposite of fine.
“Okay, yes. Maybe I’m not a hundred percent fine, but I’ll be okay. Promise. I think I might not like change. That’s all.”
Change, I’m learning, is hard. I can definitely relate. “I want to respect your boundaries.”
“My roommate boundaries?”
I nod.
Evan runs a hand through his hair. It’s shaking. “Well, you’ve always been really good about that.”
“Sarcasm?”
“No,” he says.
“Okay.”
He lowers his hand to fidget with the alignment of his silverware. “You know, this is the first time we’ve ever done anything together outside the apartment.”
“We’ve gone out together,” I remind him.
“I mean just us,” he says.
“Have you wanted to?”
“I wouldn’t have hated it.”
That’s not the same as saying he wanted to. “I’m on sort of a break from my friend group. They were people I knew from high school. Recently I realized they weren’t healthy for me, and so going on that date that ended up being with Isaac was a new thing for me to do.”
“You have a whole friend group? Not Ryan and them?”
I shake my head. “No. I mean yes, I have people I went out with on weekends, but it was getting to be too much. Toxic. And I didn’t like it anymore.”
“So, you’re what? Trying to settle down?” he asks.
“Maybe. I hope so. I don’t really want to go back to that.”
“What about your friends?”
I frown. “What about them?”
“Won’t they miss you?”
“I don’t know.”
The waiter drops off some more food at the table. Neither of us have touched the hummus. Evan orders another beer.
“Am I like—not your type or something?” he asks.
His subject change is jarring, and my mind struggles to keep up with it. “My type?”
He makes a face I can’t interpret. It involves biting his lips and shifting his jaw. “Never mind. Stupid question.”
“Okay.” I attempt to revert back to the other thing we were talking about—my old friends. “This is all pretty new,” I say, and I’m almost positive I said that before. It probably sounds like I’m broken.
He looks confused, too. “Do you mean me or Isaac or just—not hanging out with your friends?”
“All of it, I guess.”
“Do you consider me a friend?” he asks.
“You’re my roommate.”
“Right, but I guess I’m asking what you think of me because I can’t always tell.”
“I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel uncomfortable.” It’s my standard apology for myself.
“You—” He shakes his head. “It isn’t that.”
It would help so much if he just said what he meant. I can’t tell what’s on his mind, only that there are things he’s holding back, and I only know that because I’m getting tense. That’s what usually happens when I’m around a tense person. I’m like an energy mirror. “What is it?”
“I just like you, Deacon. That’s all.”
“I like you, too.”
“Right.”
My mask slips a little without my permission. “Was that the wrong thing to say?”
“I don’t know.” He reaches for a shrimp skewer and starts nibbling on the top shrimp. His tongue darts out to lick it like a lollipop. It’s something I would do if I were tasting the seasoning. The way I suck a pistachio shell.
“Is it good?” I ask.
He looks at me, blue eyes sharp and tongue on the shrimp. He composes his face. “Yeah.”
“What would have been the right thing to say?” I ask.
“It doesn’t matter,” he mumbles.
“I didn’t intend to upset you.”
“I know that,” he says. “But maybe you should ask me to move out.”