Chapter 5 - The Mix-up
Leon
What in the actual fuck?
There are only men in the room. And they all stop talking and stare at me. No one seems like they're breathing. Has the music stopped? Is the heater on me? I feel panicky, hot and sweaty while I look around the room again, before landing my gaze on the stranger in front of me.
His previously relaxed face has turned stiff, his dark eyes narrow, assessing me from head to toe as he crosses his arms over his chest while leaning back in his chair. "Have we met?" He asks in a deep, seemingly calm voice, but rage seems to roll off of him in waves.
Getting my breathing under control, I manage to right my chair and sit down. I look at him with a quick glance while I try not to die of mortification. "No, I don't think so. I mean no, I'm sure." I gulp down my entire glass of water without managing to choke.
He spears me with his eyes again, "See, I thought the same.
But then you reacted the way you did and I thought to myself maybe I was wrong and maybe I did something to the guy to make him jump up from the table the second he laid eyes on me.
" His voice again seems too calm, but I feel as small as a five-year-old with every overpronounced word he sends my way.
"No, I'm sorry." I say in an equally small voice, in line with how I feel. "I was just surprised, is all. I guess I didn't pay attention when the lady was showing me in. I'm straight, you see." There, hopefully that clears this up.
"I see." He says, too calmly once again, "So you're a homophobe." Like it’s the most casual thing on the planet.
"What?" I splutter. "No, absolutely not! I just don't like surprises."
"For fuck's sake," he mutters and gets up from the table. It's a swift and graceful move that doesn't topple his chair, like you would expect from a normal human being. I'm barely out of my seat when he disappears out the door they let the guys through a minute ago.
I rush off to twenty-eight glares sending daggers to the back of my head, but I try to lengthen my strides to match the stranger I completely embarrassed myself in front of, not even two minutes ago.
I can barely see him barrel out of the front door past the lady who's shouting "Excuse me!
" at him. As soon as I make it past her as well, I see him twenty feet in front, trying to hail a cab.
I rush again to approach so I don't miss him, seeing that he seems to be the Flash when he's escaping me.
I grab his hand as I hear a muttered "You'd think they would fucking vet these people," and hear his surprised inhale when he looks at me.
His eyes narrow again and I think he would have punched me already if not for my bigger build.
Honestly, he looks like he's still considering taking a swing.
"Please, let me explain. My reaction was not to you, but to being surprised, and then I was embarrassed by my reaction and because I'm an idiot and everyone says I'm clueless and I see now that they're right and I wish I listened to the hostess when she was talking but I've been a ball of stress all day because I needed to people and my friend was supposed to come to this thing but he's ditched and my girlfriend dumped me last month and it's just been too many surprises and it had nothing to do with you being a guy or whatever. " I word vomit all over him.
He blinks, then blinks again. I realize I'm still clutching his wrist pretty tightly, so I let it go and look down at my feet.
"I'm sorry," I try one more time, "It really has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me being an idiot.
I was supposed to become comfortable talking to new people again and I fucked it up in the first ten seconds.
" I finally exhale and try to peek at him.
His eyes are still a bit narrowed, but his jaw has unclenched slightly. "So, not a homophobe." He doesn't phrase it as a question, but I feel I need to assure him.
"No, God no! I was part of the LGBTQ+ group in college as an ally and two of my cousins are gay.
I meant when I said I really, really hate surprises and I had way too many these past few months.
I feel that's all I ever say these days.
" I lift my eyes again to him, a bit afraid of what I'll find, but am relieved to find his face relaxed with an amused expression.
Before I get cold feet, I ask him quickly, "Can I buy you a drink? I'm really sorry about this, and it's the least I can do."
He looks even more amused as he asks, "I thought you were straight?"
"No. I mean, yes! I mean, I'm not hitting on you, I just really feel like a giant piece of shit."
"Ok," he says, and for a second I don't think I heard him right.
A hopeful smile spreads across my face as I look at him and ask, "Really?"
"Yes, although I feel like I'll regret this." He eyes me again. "But I'm not going in there again. Not to inflate your ego, but you were the only reasonable prospect in there and of course, with my shitty luck, you were the only straight guy to come in by accident."
"Oh," I'm speechless for a minute. I was the only one? I don't have any experience with guys, but I’m sure there were a lot of cute guys in there. This brings a warm feeling to my chest that I don't know what to do with.
"Well," I clear my throat. "I don't know about you, but I always need more friends. If it was earlier in the day, I would have taken you to the best coffee shop in all of New York, but they close at three. Does the bar across the road look ok to you?"
"Sure." He turns and starts walking across the street without waiting for me.
I know I made him mad, but couldn't he be a bit nicer?
I run after him like an overgrown puppy and manage to get the door open and hold it for him to walk in.
He shakes his head in amusement and goes straight for the bar, flagging the bartender with the cool of a debonair actor from an old Hollywood movie.
I take this opportunity to look him over and realize he might possibly be the most attractive guy I've seen outside of movies.
He is slightly shorter than me, but still tall, with a lean build that fills his black suit perfectly.
From the side, I can see his strong jaw and realize in this light that his eyes are not black, but the darkest green I've ever seen.
His black hair is slicked back to perfection and I have to drop my eyes before he realizes I'm staring.
The bartender makes his way down to us and he orders an Old Fashioned in that deep voice that sends heat down my spine.
I blink out of my trance for a second to ask the bartender for a red glass of wine and he gets busy preparing our drinks.
Almost like a zap, I feel the stranger's eyes on me and see the amused expression back on his face when he says, "Interesting choice. "
"I'm not much of a drinker. I played hockey all throughout high school and college, so I had to be in top shape and I've always been a bit of a lightweight.
The only alcohol I have is a glass of wine with dinner, figured I would apply the same principle to this.
" I say with a shy smile, hoping he's more comfortable around me now that I'm oversharing on apparently every fucking thing in my life.
"That explains it." He says and, when I look confused, he continues, "The hockey, I'm always attracted to the athlete type, so that makes sense.
Now, since I've had a bust this evening, tell me all about this ditchy friend and dumpy girlfriend.
Since I was obligated to come tonight and can't even take a date home, you will have to provide my entertainment. "
Is he flirting with me? No, I told him I was straight. He's probably the most confident guy I’ve met, bordering on the line of arrogance, but that apparently works for me, since I'm so eager to please him, I start spewing my life story before the drinks even come.
"Not very entertaining, I'm afraid." I start as the bartender places two glasses in front of us and swiftly moves to the couple on the other side of the bar.
"My girlfriend of five years apparently was giving me signs that things weren't working for her over the past year, but in case you haven't picked up on this, I'm a bit clueless and didn't realize what was going on until I found her with suitcases packed in the living room. "
"Jesus," he lets out on a long exhale. "That's a shitty thing to do."
"I know, I should have been more attentive." I say quickly, my eyes downcast to my drink.
"What? No! She did a shitty thing." To my confused expression, he continues, "I don't have much experience with relationships, but after five years, I would imagine there are a few steps between hints and packing up your stuff. Like, I don't know, an actual fucking conversation."
I stand there with my mouth open, gaping at him.
I think my friend Ryan said something similar when I called him two days after the break-up, but it didn't register with my self-pity party.
Hearing a complete stranger say this is giving perspective and I'm here for it.
Registering what I've just said in my head, I let out a massive laugh that gives him an even more confused look.
"Sorry. Holy shit! You're right. I just realized this while talking to a complete stranger. By the way, can you tell me your name because I've been calling you the stranger in my head?"
"Not tall, dark and handsome?" He says with an easy smirk and he is definitely flirting with me. But it's making me feel good, so I decide to play along.
"I'm Leon. Leon the Leo because my mother thinks she's a hilarious comedian."
I get my first deep chuckle from him and it's possibly the best sound I've ever heard.
"I'm Dexter." He holds his hand out to shake mine and I'm met with smooth, warm skin. The handshake is a long one that lingers, yet his hand is gone from mine too soon, along with the electric current that zapped through my body when we made contact.
"Dexter, like the show? I was just thinking earlier you look like an actor. But not a modern type, you know? Like those handsome old Hollywood movie types." I blurt out before I can stop myself.
He looks at me for long seconds until I'm squirming on my stool under his scrutiny, then picks up his drink and finishes it in two large gulps, before standing and closing the buttons on his suit jacket.
"I'm going to head out before I convince myself to hope for something that's definitely not happening tonight. It was nice to meet you, Leon." He turns around with the same grace and walks away.
Wait! is on the tip of my tongue, but he's out the door before I've flagged the bartender for the check. So much for making new friends.
Once I pay and walk out on the sidewalk, the last of the hope drains from me when I don't see him there, so I flag down a cab and prepare to go home and forget the embarrassment of the night, but when my mouth opens I give the driver Ryan's address instead.
I could have probably walked the few blocks, but I feel drained from the mix-up at the dating bar, while simultaneously buzzing from Dexter's attention.
I've been in his apartment now for twenty minutes and for the last five minutes he's been laugh-weezing while holding his middle so he doesn't double down off the couch.
At least the bastard didn't lie when he ditched me for being sick, judging by the amount of used tissues spread out on his coffee table.
"So you see how this is all your fault?" I ask while glaring at him.
He finally manages to catch his breath and stops laughing, before wiping tears from his eyes and coughing a few times from the exertion. Serves the bastard right.
"I'm sorry, how is this my fault?" he manages to get out between breaths.
"Youuu... You made me go! You ditched me! You said Thursday!"
"I left the flyer with you. You couldn't check? Also, who doesn't notice a room full of guys?" He still looks like he's about to burst into laughter.
"I thought the ladies would rotate. Jesus, I don't know. I wasn't paying attention over the stress of being there alone. Told you I shouldn't have gone." Ok, I'm sulking.
"Leon, bud, I'm sorry I couldn't go with you. But look on the bright side, in a few months this will just be a funny story you can laugh at. Plus, you said the guy forgave you, right?" His teasing tone turns hopeful at the end.
I still take a few seconds to glare, before puffing a breath to reply, "Dunno if you could call it forgiving, but once I started my verbal diarrhea, he looked amused.
He kept flirting with me, I think, although he didn't make it obvious.
He had like this calm deep voice and a good poker face, but his eyes were super expressive and I felt like they bore into my soul, or something. "
Ryan has stopped looking like he's about to laugh and is carefully assessing my face before clearing his voice, "You... liked him?"
"Not sexually," I rush to say for whatever the fuck reason. "He intrigued me. I felt I could sit there all night talking to him, but the reality is that I barely got his name. Probably never going to see him again."
Ryan seems to be thinking over how to phrase his next words, but seemingly giving up on whatever he was about to say, he settles on "Well, like I said, in a few months it will just be a fun story.
Now, I need you to either get me a sexy nurse or let me sleep because I just can't take this blocked nose anymore and I have practice tomorrow. "
"No stress, dude. I'll bring over some soup tomorrow if you're still feeling sick." I rush out as I get off the armchair.
"Thanks, Leon. You're a good friend." He says back softly.
If only.