21. Porter
PORTER
“Hey, man, rough night?” Dom asks as I clock into my midday shift.
“Something like that.” I shrug as I put on my apron and jump in to make orders.
My stomach is still in knots, but not from the alcohol.
Will’s insistence that I eat and drink water must’ve actually helped because I don’t have a hangover.
I’m just so fucking confused about what happened that I’ve been anxious all day.
Will full-on flirted with me. He even leaned into it when I called him Daddy. I swear at one point I thought he was going to kiss me. None of my over-the-top flirty behavior seemed to push him away.
I’ve been questioning my own memories, wondering if he was just joking around or if it could possibly mean something.
But deep down, I know it doesn’t. I can’t let myself think otherwise.
Can’t let myself get caught up in one drunk, playful night between us when Will told me he was straight and hasn’t said things have changed.
If he were into men, even if it was a new development for him, I feel like he would’ve told me by now with how often we text and how much time we’ve been spending together in person.
Sure, we haven’t known each other for all that long, but I do consider us to be close at this point. And other than the flirting—which was honestly so over the top it’s easy to dismiss as a joke—he’s given no indication that he’s attracted to men.
He seemed to like the lace underwear, that unhelpful voice in my head argues, but who wouldn’t like that underwear? And the tattoo, but my tattoo is great, amusing even. Everyone I’ve ever shown it to has liked it.
None of what happened last night was enough for me to truly think Will and I could ever be more than friends.
I don’t even know if I should be embarrassed, but I don’t think I am.
Will isn’t a prude. What’s a little Daddy joke among friends?
Especially when he’s always insisting on taking care of me and paying for me, and he’s been doing that since the beginning when he learned my class schedule.
I assume it’s just who he is, so I can’t be the first person who’s ever called him that.
Surely, his friends must make that joke if he does the same for them… Does he do the same for them?
But then I had to go and do a little striptease for him…
With a boner! I probably should’ve shut it down with how hard I immediately was from his eyes on me.
Can I really be blamed though? I was tipsy, and I’m only human.
My crush was looking sexy as hell telling me that “good boys get rewarded and bad boys get punished,” and all I could think was how every fantasy I’ve ever had wasn’t as hot as that moment. And he didn’t even touch me.
He did touch me at the bar though, and I loved how big his hands felt on my skin.
Maybe I should feel guilty for everything I pulled last night, but Will knows I’m gay.
Even if he doesn’t know how I really feel, my crush is my problem to sort out and get over.
I refuse to let it blow up another friendship.
Especially because I’d consider Will to be an actual friend, unlike Robbie who claimed to want to be friends when all he really wanted was an experiment.
I think the real reason my mind is still racing is because I don’t know what Will thinks about last night.
When his alarm went off this morning for practice, I wasn’t ready to face him.
Everything from last night came rushing back at once through my headache, and I immediately panicked.
So, like a coward, I pretended to sleep through him leaving.
And now I’m paying for it because I have no idea when I’ll even see him next.
We have class together this week but no set plans to see each other again.
Is he going to tell me I made him uncomfortable and that he no longer wants to be my friend?
Maybe Will is going to end up being the one to put distance between us, and I won’t have to decide if I need to.
Maybe last night was me subconsciously pushing him away so I wouldn’t have to be the one to make the hard decision because the last thing I want is space from him—even if I break my own heart in the process.
If he pulls away, then I get to be right. I get to fold my arms, nod, and say, “See? People always leave.”
There’s a sick kind of comfort in being correct about my own worst fear. It means I don’t have to risk looking foolish because I predicted it all along, even if that didn’t stop me from wanting it.
Dom clears his throat beside me, snapping me out of my overthinking while I pour milk into a cup. “You okay?”
I nod automatically. “Yeah. Just in my head.”
“You’re doing the lake house thing over spring break, right?” Dom checks.
That pulls my focus a bit more. “Yeah, with Josie. She booked it for my birthday.”
“So jealous,” Dom replies with a groan. “How do you keep finding these rich friends? I wish someone would book me a lake house getaway.”
“She’s the best,” I agree. “And honestly… I think it’ll be good. It’ll be a couple days away…” I trail off, not sure how much I should admit.
But Dom has seen the transition over the last few weeks from when I was complaining about Will, to him stopping in to eat with me on my breaks more recently.
He’s benefited from Will’s generous tips, and has teased me about how Will must have bought my friendship.
I know that’s who he meant with his wealthy friend comment.
Dom gives me a look. “Away from your attractive straight friend you’re pretending not to have a crush on? You say that like you won’t be thinking about him the entire time.”
I sigh. “Okay, yes. Fine. I’ll obviously be thinking of him the whole time. He’s just so…” Hot, thoughtful, perfect. I don’t know how to end that sentence, so I don’t. I also don’t mention I’m secretly hoping he might be coming for the last night.
“Did something happen?”
“No,” I answer quickly. But maybe I should explain a bit more so he doesn’t think I’m lying completely with how strange I’ve been today. “Just made him bring me home from the bar last night, and he ordered me Taco Bell.”
“Uh-huh,” he says in a tone that makes it clear he doesn’t believe that’s all that happened. He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything else before he goes to the register to help the next customer.
I focus on the order, but mostly, muscle memory carries me through while my brain does its own thing, which is apparently just looping on Will.
I keep reminding myself that this situation is temporary.
That crushes burn out. That distance helps.
That I’ll survive it when he decides to spend less time with me.
The majority of the trip with Josie will be great for that. Or the whole thing if he decides not to come. But I’ll worry about that later. Now it’s time to focus on my time away with my best friend, sitting by a fireplace with some wine, and probably a game night or two. It’ll be great.
“Vanilla iced latte.” Will’s voice cuts through the noise of the coffee shop, and I snap my head in his direction. He’s smiling as he pays for his coffee, and he pulls out a twenty to put in the tip jar like he normally does.
Why is he here? Is he trying to act normal so he can talk to me in public? That makes sense. He knew I was working, so he wanted to let me down gently that last night was too much, and he can’t come next week.
Which is fine. I’ll be fine. I can handle this. It’s not my first rejection.
“Hey, P! How are you feeling?” he asks as he walks over to the end of the counter I’m now making his drink at.
I offer a tight smile before focusing back on the coffee. “Hey, Will. I’m fine.”
“Oh good. I felt awful sneaking out the way I did this morning. I wish I could have stayed, but Coach would’ve lost his shit.”
My eyes snap up to his. “Really?”
“Yeah, of course. So, is your break soon? I wasn’t sure exactly when your shift started, but I was hoping we could chat.”
And there it is. Why does it feel like he’s about to break up with me? I don’t need him to pull me aside and let me down gently. I’m a big boy. I don’t need some big speech.
“Sorry, I actually just got here. We’re pretty slow right now though, if you want to just tell me now.”
“Damn, okay. I wanted to double-check if you actually want me to come to the lake house. Obviously, you’d been drinking, and I was there, so asking me was easy.
I just wanted to check in person and say no pressure if you’d rather invite one of your other friends.
” He’s smiling at me with what I think is a hopeful expression, but what he’s hoping for, I’m not sure.
“Listen, Will, if you don’t want to come—”
“What? No. I’d love to come! Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful or like I want you to bring someone instead of me. I just didn’t want any of your other friends to be jealous that I got the invite when you’ve known them longer or anything like that.”
I let out an awkward laugh before I decide to tell him the truth. I want this to be his decision. “I want you to come, Will. That’s why I invited you.”
His whole face lights up. “Great. I’m really excited.”
Despite all the anxiety I’ve had this morning, I hear myself responding, “Me too.” We stare at each other for a moment over the counter with matching smiles before I realize his drink is ready. I hold it up in front of me. “Iced vanilla latte for Will.”
“Thanks. I’ll text you later.”
“Sounds good,” I agree, and he walks away, leaving the shop with a backward glance at me to smile one more time.
Dom slides in beside me. “Soooo,” he starts, dragging the word out like he’s fully entertained by our very normal interaction. “Do you want to tell me how that is really going? Because I cannot fathom that that borderline obsessed man is not into you.”
“Well”—I sigh, staring down at the counter—“he hasn’t told me otherwise, so for now, he’s still not an option.”
You’d think by how many times I’ve said that now internally and out loud to my friends that I’d fully process it. But instead, my brain quietly whispers that straight guys don’t usually offer good boys rewards, and that maybe, just maybe, last night could have meant something.
But it didn’t.
Falling for an unavailable friend isn’t new territory for me. It’s practically a rite of passage in some fucked-up way as a queer person. I don’t feel misled or taken advantage of or angry. I feel… sad and tender. A little stupid for my behavior. Or a lot.
I straighten a stack of cups that absolutely do not need straightening and force myself to focus on my shift.
Not on Will and how much I wish things could be different for us.