9. Now You See It, Now You Don’t
9
NOW YOU SEE IT, NOW YOU DON’T
Tanner
The spicy Korean takeout is top-notch. So’s the conversation as we debate the best spots in New York for takeout, and as we grade the spice level of the food. The company’s not too shabby either as we shift gears and flick on Anti-Heroes , a Webflix show about a ragtag crew of misfits who develop superpowers in a post-apocalyptic world. They try to use them for good mostly, but they’re sometimes tempted to use them for harm.
We’re dressed and parked on my couch. We’ve done this before. Watched TV together. Eaten together. Never hung out post BJs, but hey, we’re aces at it. So maybe we can be friends with benefits together.
When the episode ends on a cliffhanger, Luke lets out a long, drawn out, “Nooooo.”
“Gotta wait till the next one,” I say.
He grabs his head. “I hate waiting. I’ve done enough waiting.”
“But you’re a pro at it. You can last till…when does the next episode come out? Thursday?” What even is today? Sunday? Yeah, it’s Sunday.
“Thursday is a year away,” he says.
I pat his thigh. “Life’s rough, Remy.”
He drops his hand from his face and shoots me the side-eye. “Remy?”
Um, did I just come up with a new nickname for him? Shit. I did. That’s bad. That’s a hookup faux pas.
I scratch my jaw, all casual and cool, to cover up my rookie mistake. “All those syllables in your last name. Too annoying to say sometimes.”
“My long last name suits me,” he says.
I breathe a little easier. His return to cocky slings is maybe another sign all is well.
And that we can do… this .
This being…another time?
My pulse races as I gear up to ask him if he wants to do this again. I’ve got a game this evening, and tomorrow too, so maybe tomorrow night after my game. No big deal, right? We’re friends, we’re out dudes, we know how hookups work.
Besides, what trouble can we really get into? I’m barely around. After the All-Star break and Jason’s wedding, I have a long string of away games, and he’ll leave for training camp.
Then, boom. We’ll both be super busy.
But when the credits roll, Luke stretches, then he tips his forehead to the door. “I should go. You need to make sure Sedgwick doesn’t pull a rabbit out of a hat on you,” he says.
My mind is on tomorrow night, so it takes me several seconds to put it together. Right. Elsie’s advice. I can barely remember anything that happened when I was vibrating with lust for Luke in the lobby.
But it’s coming back to me now. I’m facing a tough opponent tonight, and Sedgwick has had my number before. I ought to focus on getting into the zone.
“Watch the ball, not his leg kick,” Luke continues, reminding me of Elsie’s tip.
“Right. Sure,” I say, but I’m not thinking of tonight’s game. I’m thinking of what I want to do to him tomorrow.
One time did not quench my thirst. Luke’s living rent-free in my head right now, and if I’m ever going to have the kind of relationship I want with a guy, I need to get my friend off my mind.
The only way past this lust is through it.
I walk him to the door, feeling awkward for the first time today.
Feeling unsure. Needing to say something. But what? Let’s hook up again just so we can be sure this is out of our systems?
Well, yeah. That’d be a start.
I’m working through how to say it when Luke jams his hands in his pockets. “Listen, Sloan,” he begins.
And…shit. Any sentence that starts with a heavy listen isn’t going to end the way you want.
He’s in it for one and done. And I don’t want to get dumped or duped again. The scars can still hurt. “This doesn’t change anything,” I say quickly, getting ahead of the situation, like it’s a pitch I’m pouncing on.
“That’s what I was going to say,” he says, sounding relieved.
“Right. Just a one-time thing,” I add with more bravado than I’d expected. But I have to protect myself.
“Exactly. Just getting it out of our systems. A quick hookup.”
“Definitely,” I add, agreeing far too quickly. Who cares if I wanted another few rounds? We were never going to be anything more.
Can’t have him thinking I was imagining a second date. I won’t be that guy.
“But we’re still friends?” His voice pitches up the slightest bit.
“Of course,” I say, meaning it and glad to reassure him.
“So I’ll see you around,” he says, then grabs the knob.
My chest feels hollow.
He turns around and laughs, a little chagrined. “Shoot. We forgot to take a pic today for Reese.”
That breaks the tension. I laugh, too, at our mistake. “Yeah we did.”
He scratches his jaw. Then runs a hand through his hair. “Want to get a beer tomorrow night after your game and snap a photo?”
That sounds like a second date. But it’s not. Still, I say yes.