Better Than Good (2 page)

He didn’t laugh at me, though. He just gave me a small grin and sipped his drink. I noticed the way his straight black hair fell into his eyes, and I felt a very real impulse to brush it away for him. I watched him swing his head back and use only his thumb to tame his bangs. Strangely, I found the movement graceful.

“Often enough, I guess. What’s your name?”

“Matt. You?”

“Aaron.”

“Nice to meet you, Aaron. Thank you for the drink.”

“You’re welcome. Don’t be offended, but I have to ask. You seem a little out of your comfort zone…. Are you here on a bet?”

I think I almost spit up half my kamikaze, but I managed to swallow it at the last second. Nice save.

“Ha! Actually I’m here with some friends. Total free-willing participants. It’s great here,” I added, “just loud.”

I know I am a former jock and probably look the type. I stay fit and eat right, for the most part. However, I’m not and never have been a stereotypical beer-guzzling, good-time party jock who probably got hit one too many times playing ball in college. I have a brain and can usually hold my end of a decent conversation. Why not tonight?

“Whoa! We have been looking for you, man!” Well, here was my escape. I could see Jason and Dave making their way from the other end of the packed bar toward Aaron and me.

Aaron noticed my buddies too. He looked over my right shoulder as they approached and then leaned up to say something in my left ear, gesturing at the same time for me to come down to his height.

“Nice to meet you, Matt.”

And then he kissed my cheek and turned back toward the dance floor. I was shocked, which was a little silly, but I hadn’t expected the kiss. I felt like I’d been cheated a bit. I wanted him to come back and do it again. Maybe this time I’d move my head and he’d catch my lips instead.

He quickly disappeared into the sea of gyrating bodies, thumping music, and flashing lights. I nodded to my friends, who I was sure hadn’t seen the kiss, and followed them outside.

We gave a collective sigh as we breathed in the first bit of cool early morning DC air. It felt great to be outside after fighting the press of people inside the busy club.

“Hey, Matt, who’s your boyfriend?” Dave teased. Jason was flagging down a taxi, but he heard Dave and had to add his own jab.

“Kinda hot, Matt. Should we warn Kristin she’s got some competition?” Jason jeered.

“Ha-ha,” I replied in my best deadpan voice. “Where’s Curt? Are we leaving him here?”

“Said he found a hot date. Let’s go. My buzz is fading, and I’d like to be back in hetero land before it’s gone and I’m sober, wondering what the fuck I’m doing at a gay club on a Saturday night,” Dave groused.

I barely remember the cab ride home, but the hangover I’d expected the following day did not disappoint. I’m fairly certain I woke up at noon, downed some aspirin, and chased it with a sports drink before I parked myself on my sofa in front of the big screen television to watch a day’s worth of football. Dave and Curt were my roommates. They were in the same state as me, and we were likeminded in our quest for football, greasy food, and a little hair of the dog that afternoon. Jason lived nearby with his girlfriend, Chelsea. They were a serious couple. We all joked that Jase’s night out with us had cost him the next day with both a hangover and a girl to nag at him about how much football a guy could possibly watch. Poor bastard.

I know there is an elephant in the room. I said I had a girlfriend. What was the deal?

Her name was Kristin. She was finishing her undergrad at Georgetown. We’d met about a year ago at a party somewhere near campus. Sweet, pretty, and not terribly demanding of my time, she was the perfect girlfriend for me. We called each other boyfriend and girlfriend, but I think it was almost more of an acknowledgement that we had barely any time for our classes, internships, and friends, let alone screwing around, even with each other. The sheer convenience of a date and sex when we were able to get together was probably the biggest reason we were together at all.

Don’t get me wrong. I liked Kristin a lot, but I had no illusions of this being a life-changing relationship. I was not ready to pick out china patterns, and I really hoped she wasn’t thinking along those lines either.

I was sprawled out on the sofa when Dave announced he could hear my phone. I begged him to bring it to me. It landed hard on my chest when he chucked it at me. I’d missed the call anyway. “Missed call from Kristin,” the screen read. Hmm. I figured I’d deal with her later. I wasn’t in the mood to chat in my current condition.

“Was that Kristin? Making sure you didn’t bring any hot guys home last night?” Curt wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “I meant for me, of course. But then I guess you’d just be helping out a friend, so she’d probably be cool with that, right?”

“I didn’t think you needed any help, Curtster. We were all sound asleep when you finally made your way home,” I reminded him.

“Yeah right. More like you were all passed out, asshole. I didn’t stay much longer than you anyway.”

He took a swig of beer from the bottle and then paused to give me an “I’m serious” look when he heard “mmm-hmm” in reply.

“Saw you dancing with a sexy boy, though.” Curt’s eyebrows were wiggling again. “That guy is seriously hot. I’ve seen him a few times around the Circle. He is fiiinnne. Did you get his name?”

“Well, I didn’t ask him out or anything but yeah, we exchanged names.”

“And?”

“What?”

“What’s his name, jackass? Geez!”

“I don’t remember. We just danced, as you well know. Or was I supposed to introduce you?” My voice had taken on a raspy quality indicative of too much fun the night before.

“Yes! Bad friend! I’ve explained my strategy to you dumb shits countless times. If I’m going to have straight so-called friends come to gay establishments with me, they should make themselves useful. I mean, you guys are all somewhat decent-looking, and if a hot guy like your new friend starts hitting on you, it is your duty as a good friend to set him straight, so to speak, and send him my way. Why do I need to remind you boys? I do the same for you when I’m out with you guys. Girls love gay boys.”

“Sorry. My bad. Don’t get your panties in a twist. We just danced. It’s not like I was ‘getting to know him’.” I threw air quotes around the last part just to annoy Curt.

“You danced for a while, though,” Curt mused.

“He’s right,” Dave agreed. He brought a fresh round of beers with him. I took one and closed my eyes. I was just starting to feel human again.

“Right about what exactly? We danced. It’s a dance club. End of story. Next time I’ll get numbers for you. ’Kay? Now shut up and watch the game.”

“Hmm. Okay, big guy. Whatever you say.” Curt seemed to be placating me, but I was just happy he agreed to move on.

I don’t know why I didn’t tell Curt the truth. Aaron. Of course I remembered his name. All I could think of was Aaron. It baffled me. It really had been the most casual of experiences, just as I’d told my friends. No big deal. So why, when I should be thinking about my classes tomorrow and even answering my cell when my girlfriend called, was I thinking about Aaron at all? I didn’t have any answers, and I wasn’t sure my head was clear yet anyway, so I decided to put off thinking of any sort for the rest of the day.

A
WEEK
later, I still found myself thinking about him. I was replaying the moment we first caught each other’s eye and everything went quiet in my mind. It seemed like a sign or something. And these constant thoughts made me wonder about him. Where was he from? Where did he work? Was he with anyone? My sudden obsession didn’t make sense. Maybe I really just needed to get laid. I hadn’t seen Kristin at all that week, although we talked a little. Maybe I was just horny, and thinking about the last hot person I’d been around was doing something to me. The fact that it was a man instead of a woman didn’t bother me nearly as much as I would have thought.

The following Saturday, I walked up to Kristin’s townhouse to pick her up for a date. I put more effort into my appearance than I normally would have. I gelled my wavy dark-blond hair, which probably could have used a cut, and wore a blue button-down shirt Kristin said matched my eyes. It had been a while and I was worried about my blue balls. Kristin and I didn’t have the type of relationship where we could just say what we wanted. We were polite to one another. It was old-fashioned, but she was pretty conservative, so I figured this was how she wanted it. We’d make a date a few days ahead of time, have a nice dinner and sometimes go to a movie, and then have sex, usually back at her place. The sex was nice. Not earth-shattering, but somewhat regular, so I didn’t mind. I didn’t spend the night often. Neither of us seemed interested in the overnight thing anyway. I guess that night I was hoping whatever happened between Kristin and me would keep me from thinking anymore about Aaron.

Kristin opened the door before I had a chance to knock. She was dressed in tight jeans with high-heeled black boots and a long orange sweater that complemented her honey-colored hair. She looked stylish and beautiful. And she looked happy to see me.

“Hey there, stranger.” She reached out to touch my hand, and I moved the rest of the way in to kiss her softly on her lips. She seemed to have a lot of gloss or something on, and I didn’t want to taste it on my own lips for the next hour.

“How are you? Hungry? I was thinking maybe we could try that new Italian place on M Street. I made a reservation, but if you feel like something else, that’s cool too.”

I was doing my best to accommodate my date. She never told me what she felt like eating. Ever. It was probably something she didn’t realize she did, but when it came to food, whether it was take home or out for a meal, Kristin always deferred to me. I’d come to realize that if I didn’t want to play the “I don’t care, what do you feel like?” game when we went out, I needed to take matters into my own hands. She never disagreed about the places I chose either. You would think that I loved this easygoing culinary attitude, but honestly I felt like I was walking on eggshells. I would actually have preferred she give an honest opinion, so I was not solely responsible for food choices. She had plenty of other opinions, but for whatever reason she was never willing to share her dining preferences with me. Weird.

“Sounds great. Let me grab my bag. I’m ready to go.”

She joined me on the sidewalk outside her place a few minutes later and reached out to hold my hand. My car key was in that hand, though, so we did a clumsy dance as the key pinched her skin and her giant bag (with God only knows what in it) fell from her other arm, and I finally clued in that I was the cause. We both gave an awkward laugh and tried again. This already felt difficult. Why couldn’t this be uncomplicated? As in “we haven’t seen each other all week, let’s do it first and then worry about the rest”? I sound like a caveman, I know, but I was beginning to get a sinking feeling that, even if the evening went the way I thought it would, I still wouldn’t be getting Aaron out of my head tonight.

The quick recap went as follows: dinner, back to Kristin’s place for a drink, and yes, sex. A nice night, sure, but I was on my way home before eleven and not at all ready for bed. I called Curt at the last minute before I turned onto our street to see where everyone was. Curt answered on the third ring.

“Yell-oo!” Curt sounded a little gone and was obviously in a very loud bar. A gay bar? Only one way to find out.

“Where are you? Is Dave out with you?”

“No, he had a date. How did yours go? Couldn’t have been that great if you’re calling me before midnight. I hope you at least got some.” He didn’t sound drunk anymore at all. Just annoying. And truthfully, part of me had been hoping to go save him and run into Aaron again while I was at it.

“Where are you? You need my mad straight-guy skills to help land you a little nookie?”

“You are such a kind and thoughtful friend, Matt. I’m at the Zodiac Bar. I don’t need your so-called straight-guy skills, but come join us anyway.”

He hung up before I could ask whom he was with. Some of his gay friends are really cool and some are just not. Whatever. One drink I could handle, and it would keep me from going home to an empty apartment or having to listen to Dave and his date going at it if the apartment wasn’t empty after all. Yeah, the Zodiac was sounding better by the second.

The Zodiac Bar was a cool little gay-friendly pub in the city off of Logan. It was on a quieter street and on the small side, but it was pretty hip inside. Very sleek and trendy, with a huge fireplace lit with colored glass rocks and small ottomans used as moveable seats on one end, and a gorgeous glass bar with cool backlights just opposite. I checked my reflection before I walked in, and figured the khakis and button-down shirt would do. I wasn’t looking for a date, just a drink, I reminded myself.

I spotted Curt at a small corner table with two other guys who I think were named Randy and Dan. I nodded in his direction and then headed for the bar for my much-needed drink. Of course he was with Randy and Dan. They were cool but kind of camp. I needed a liquid equalizer. I ordered a vodka tonic from an extraordinarily good-looking bartender. I heard the patron next to me give a small laugh as my arm was gently jostled.

“Yeah, he’s hot, alright.”

“Uh, hey…,” I stammered. It was Aaron.

What were the odds that the one person I’d been thinking about for an entire week and figured I’d probably never see again was standing next to me? I felt suddenly warm all over and had a very real fear I wouldn’t be able to articulate an intelligent thought. I didn’t understand my attraction to this guy.

He looked from the bartender back to me, and recognition dawned across his face.

“We danced last week, right? We met. How funny.” He shifted his body so he fully faced me and gave me a good once over. “I forgot your name. I’m sorry. I’m Aaron.”

“Matt.”

“Oh yes. Matt. Matt, who looked like he lost a bet Matt. And here you are a week later in—” He did a dramatic side-to-side glance around the bar, his hands gesturing alongside. “—yep, a gay bar. Maybe you weren’t coerced after all, Matt?”