Chapter 11
chapter eleven
tom
The buzzing on my phone from Priya’s text gave me the jolt I needed to get myself together.
Priya: Are you going to do it?
I looked around before responding, then tapped a message on my phone.
Tom: I think so.
Priya: Good luck! I feel really positive about this. *heart eyes emoji*
I had to laugh at Priya’s close monitoring of my love life.
I put my phone on the table and looked up. I noticed him as soon as he walked in, and when I saw what he was wearing, every nerve in my body lit up.
Today he had his hair up in a ponytail and he wasn’t in his usual business casual.
It’d been an unseasonably warm October day, and he was wearing leather Vans without socks and tight black yoga pants looking things.
A loose black tank top under an oversized denim shirt and a patterned gray scarf wrapped around his neck.
He had black leather cuffs on his wrists, and I could see black nail polish on his fingernails.
He looked edgy and a little flushed, his gray eyes bright, like he was glowing from the inside.
More than one head turned as he made his way to the table.
When he saw me, he smiled wide and waved as he came toward me.
At that moment, I wanted him to be mine so badly.
I wanted to stand up and meet him halfway, so everyone could see the most beautiful man in this place belonged to me.
He was still smiling as he sat down and it took everything in me not to lean over and kiss his mouth.
“Hey, sorry I’m late and showed up dressed like this.” He apologized, gesturing at his shirt. “But we had a thing at the shelter, and I didn’t have time to change before coming to meet you.”
“It’s fine. I was running late myself. So what were you doing? If it’s okay for me to know.” He waved his hand, indicating it was okay to ask. I could tell he was happy I wanted to know what he’d been doing. I would never get enough of seeing Camilo’s passion for his work.
“Well it’s this really cool thing we’ve been doing for oh—” he put his finger under his chin and looked up “—a year or so now. We’ve been partnering with this dance group called New York City Bodies, they do these choreography classes.
Like each session is just one song, and we practice a set of moves as a group and then do the whole thing at the end.
It’s so much fun. Ayako and I have been taking classes at their studio downtown for years.
So we talked to them into coming to the shelter and doing a sort of dance therapy class twice a month. ”
I nodded, a smile already forming as I was infected by his enthusiasm. “That sounds great.”
“It is. Their whole mission is to offer classes in a shame-free body-positive environment. So any person of any shape or ability can come and do a group class. The instructors are fantastic, too, and will modify the lessons so everyone can participate. I always make sure I can make it, because it’s amazing to see how much our clients love the classes.
They also get to pick which song we’ll do each time.
” He laughed and shook his head. “Most weeks it’s either Rihanna, Ariana, or Beyoncé. ”
I wanted to say something about how great the classes sounded, but my mind was stuck picturing Camilo in those tights and tank top dancing until he was sweaty and flushed.
My cock got so hard I had to adjust my trousers.
I swallowed a few times before I could speak, while he looked at me like he was well aware of where my mind had gone.
I regrouped and tried to say something at least somewhat coherent. “It’s great you offer some programs that aren’t just the typical financial literacy class or job training.”
He nodded again and gave me a funny look, like he’d expected me to say something different.
“Those things are very important, of course, and we have them, too. But part of our mission at New Beginning is to try to dismantle all these destructive constructs our clients are steeped in.”
I leaned closer as he talked, once again amazed at how effortlessly Camilo commanded my full attention. “Tell me more about that.”
“Like, if you’re poor, or black or brown, you have no right to do something just for fun.
That if you spend money on yourself or on something you enjoy, you’re being careless and deserve to be victimized.
Part of our work is to walk with our clients as they begin to see there’s nothing wrong with them.
That the issues they’re dealing with aren’t there because they made them happen, but because they’re trying to navigate a system literally built to not work for them. ”
By now he was leaning into the table and talking with his hands.
“It’s consciousness raising, you know? We have to make spaces for them to do things they don’t feel entitled to, like take an art class or dance for an hour.
We work from a perspective of understanding the intersectionality of oppression.
Gender, race, sexuality, ability, socioeconomic status, country of origin, —” He went on excitedly ticking things off his fingers.
“—each one of those things cut across our clients’ lives and hold them back. ”
Turning, he pointed in the direction of the street.
“What they hear out there is, ‘If you’re black or brown, poor and a single mom, you have no right to joy, you haven’t earned it.
’ We say, ‘Fuck that because neither has anyone else.’ So we make a point of doing stuff like the New York City Bodies classes.
To reinforce they have the right to moments that are just theirs, that no matter what good or bad decisions they’ve made or how hard things are, they still get joy. ”
He stopped talking then eyes like he realized he’d been going for too long. I was going to say something smart and neutral, but my heart was faster than my head.
“You’re magnificent. Did you know that?”
This time his smile was shy and small, and he looked down as if he was a little embarrassed.
“I get a bit carried away sometimes. I don’t mean to lecture people all the time.”
This shyness was so unlike him. I went out on a limb, reached out across the table and grabbed his hand. He jumped when our hands met but didn’t pull away.
“It wasn’t a lecture. I love hearing you talk about your work. Seriously, you amaze me, Camilo. I’m so grateful our paths crossed.” This time it was my turn to look down. “I was talking to my friends about you today.”
“Oh?” That was all he said, but his eyes were wide with expectation, and I knew this was the moment. My chance to say what we’d been tiptoeing around for weeks.
“I was telling them how much I loved our conversations; how much you challenged me.” His face looked a little disappointed at my words, so before I lost my nerve, I said it. “I told them I wanted to ask you to dinner.”
Camilo quickly pulled his hand away like I’d shocked him.
The hesitation on his face made all the breath leave my body.
Maybe I was in this alone. Maybe Camilo wasn’t interested in me like that.
I’d forgotten what this was like, the breathless expectation of waiting to hear if the person you wanted felt the same way about you.
Finally he placed the hand he’d pulled away on top of mine and spoke. “I’d love to have dinner with you, Tom.”
The fluttering in my chest was so intense I was sure Camilo could hear it across the table. I knew I was grinning hard, too. I was so glad to hear him say yes though. I couldn’t help it.
“Can we do it now?”
He laughed at my eagerness and shook his head like I was ridiculous.
“Well I’m all sweaty and gross from the dance class and this is definitely not what I’d wear for a first date with the Thomas Hughes, but yeah, we can have dinner now.”
I gave him an astonished look, because he had no idea the effect what he was wearing had on me when he walked in. “I think you look hot, exactly how you are. And so do a lot of the people here, if all the stares you were getting as you walked in were any indication.” He laughed and rolled his eyes.
“Okay, if it works for you, who am I to argue? But what do we even talk about? I feel like we’ve had all the first date conversation already?”
“Tell me about the dance classes. I have to say the idea of you in those tights, dancing to Beyoncé got me overheated very quickly.” The smile he gave me at that was dirty enough to make me blush.
This was the Camilo from the gala. The sexy and confident man who grabbed me by the hand and gave me the best blow job of my life.
He tipped his head to the side and put his finger under his chin as though he was thinking about an answer. “Well let’s see, today we did ‘Formation’ which is kind of fierce but also sexy. There was a lot of hip gyration and hair flipping. We’ve done it a few times before. The clients love it.”
“When you say hip gyrations—”
That husky laugh was going to be the end of me. Under the table Camilo moved his legs so they were brushing against mine and leaned into me. “Well it’s hard to explain it. It’s more the kind of thing you have to see. I’d have to show you.”
I gulped and ran my hands on my thighs, trying to calm myself down. I needed to get out of here before I did something crazy in this restaurant full of people.
“So I was thinking maybe we could do a drink at my place before dinner.” Then closed my mouth and thought about what I’d just said.
Why would we leave a restaurant to go and eat somewhere else?
I’d been at meetings discussing billion-dollar deals and felt less out of sorts than I was right now.
I shook my head as Camilo looked at me from under long thick eyelashes.
“That’s sort of stupid isn’t it? We’re already at a restaurant. We could just get dinner here.”
Camilo continued to stare. I laughed a little hysterically and all I could think of was finally getting to touch him after weeks of holding back.
But before I opened my mouth again, Camilo took control of the situation.
He grabbed my hand and ran his thumb over it, as if trying to put me at ease, then he squared his shoulders and looked at me full of certainty.
“But if by drinks you mean go back to your place for sex, then yes. We can absolutely go to your house for a pre-dinner drink.”
It felt like someone zapped my balls with a charge of electricity and I immediately stood up. I left way more money on the table than necessary to pay for the water we’d gotten, and for the second time since we’d met, I let Camilo pull me by the hand and lead me away.