Rum & Ginger (6 page)

“Eh.” Lena shrugged dismissively and grabbed her black velvet jacket and her keys. “Shall we?”

“We shall.” Ben opened the door for her.

T
HEY
PULLED
up to Burnsy’s party. Ben was pretty sure this was Burnsy’s parents’ place. He wondered what it was like to have everything handed to you. “Don’t start judging,” Lena said, speaking to his thoughts.

“I’m not,” he lied. “It’s a great place.” They moved through the little groups hanging out on the lawn and on the porch of the large mansion. “What’s the plan?” he asked.

“Drink ourselves blind and party like idiots,” Lena responded.

“That certainly sounds like a plan,” Ben stated. He and Lena shared a laugh and entered the building. They cut through the throng of dancers, heading straight for the kitchen and alcohol. Lena started mixing drinks instantly. Ben leaned against a counter, relaxing amidst the mingled conversations. Chance would hate this. So many people in one place having disparate discussions would drive him crazy. Ben found it strangely comforting. He accepted the drink Lena offered and sipped at it.

“Ben! Lena! Son of a bitch! You guys made it!” Burnsy marched into the room, his arms open, and folded Ben and Lena into a hug. “Thanks, you guys!”

“No prob,” Ben stated.

“Shots!” Burnsy barked. “We need shots!”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Ben said.

“Shots!” Lena shouted. Ben rolled his eyes. It seemed he was outnumbered. One of Burnsy’s little groupies poured shots for everyone in the kitchen.

“Oh, what the hell,” Ben mumbled. The group toasted and everyone downed their shots.

“Another round!” Lena cheered.

“Yeah!” Burnsy agreed. Shots were again distributed, toasted, and consumed. “Woo!” Burnsy shouted. “Let’s rock out with our cocks out!” he called as he left the kitchen.

“Is he serious?” Ben asked. He could feel the effects of the shots already, and he liked it.

“Prob’ly,” Lena answered. “He’s always pulling his dick out for no reason.”

“What the hell am I doing here?” Ben wondered aloud, sipping his original drink.

“Don’t be like that,” Lena scolded. “Frickin’ enjoy yourself for a change.”

Ben scowled in response. He enjoyed himself. What was she trying to say? He wasn’t Chance, hiding away in their house and refusing to mix with other people. “This is great!” Ben barked, draining his drink and holding out the empty cup. “Another,” he ordered.

“That’s the spirit,” Lena answered, pouring another drink. An aggressive beat emerged from elsewhere in the house. “Dance?” Lena asked.

“Hell yeah,” Ben answered, already moving with the rhythm. They drifted toward the music and found the dance floor. They weaved around the writhing bodies, searching for an empty bit of floor space. Ben and Lena danced as the lights flashed and the music surged. He closed his eyes and let himself get lost in the movement and music. Lena’s hand grazed his shoulder as they danced. She bumped into him, and he smiled. Lena’s hand squeezed his bicep and he opened his eyes. What he saw wasn’t Lena.

“Hey.” The cute boy in front of Ben looked familiar.

“Hey,” Ben answered. His body moved despite his confusion.

“You don’t remember me,” the young dancer said.

“I do,” Ben said before it was true. He did recognize his dance partner but couldn’t provide a name. “Bartender!”

“You do remember me,” the bartender stated.

“Brodie!” Ben remembered. “Brodie the Bartender.”

Brodie pressed a finger to his lips. “That’s my superhero name. Just Brodie’s fine when I’m not at work.” Brodie smiled, and Ben’s body reacted positively. He felt a flutter in his stomach and a flush on his cheeks.

“That’s good,” Ben responded, smiling and nodding. “Night off?”

“Nope. Brodie’s actually at the bar working. I’m his clone.” Brodie leaned in as he spoke over the loud music.

Ben chuckled. “Right. Yeah, I get it.” Ben realized how stupid his original question had been. “Great party,” Ben said, trying to salvage the conversation.

“Burnsy’s famous for them.” Brodie finished off his drink.

“Need another?” Ben asked.

“Hmm.” Brodie considered the offer. “Yes. Yes, I think I do.”

“I’ll be right back.” Ben grabbed Brodie’s cup and visited one of the numerous punch bowls scattered throughout Burnsy’s place. Ben ladled out a cup for Brodie, then a cup for himself, gulped it down and filled himself a second before threading back through the dancers. “Here you are, sir.”

“Looks like the tables have turned,” Brodie said, accepting the drink from Ben. “It appears you have taken up my mantle.”

“Ben the Bartender?” Ben mused. “I hope I can live up to the legend.”

“It’s pretty loud. Want to get out of here? Step outside?”

Ben nodded. “Sure.”

“Cool.” Brodie grabbed Ben’s hand and led him through the dancing guests. He moved with the music, and Ben watched intently as Brodie’s lean muscles flexed beneath his fitted clothes. Ben allowed Brodie to lead him out into the cool night air. They leaned against the patio railing beneath a sky full of stars. “Wow. Beautiful night,” Brodie said, gazing into the sky.

“Yeah, it is.” Ben sipped his punch.

“How do you know Burnsy?” Brodie asked.

“He works for me at T.C. McEffster’s,” Ben responded.

“Works for you?”

“Ecch. Yeah. I’m a manager there.”

“Fun,” Brodie said, his sarcasm evident.

“It’s a paycheck.”

“Yeah. I know what that’s like.”

“You don’t like being a bartender?” Ben asked, finally looking over at Brodie. Ben had to admire the young man’s handsome profile.

“I do. Mike’s a cool boss, but….”

“But?”

“His bar is mostly straight people. They’re not jerks or anything, but I wish our town had a gay bar. Mike’s is gay friendly, but a proper gay bar would be awesome.”

“I’ve often thought that as well,” Ben admitted. “I wish we had a place we could go and just be honest without fear of repercussion.” After the words were out of his mouth, Ben gasped. He’d not only just admitted openly to being gay, but he was reasonably sure Brodie had done the same.

“If I had the money, I could open an amazing bar.” Brodie turned to Ben.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Ben wasn’t sure if it was the punch or how comfortable he was in Brodie’s company, but he felt like he could be completely honest for once in his life.

“Sure,” Brodie offered.

“I’ve always wanted to quit my shitty job and open my own bar. A place without judgment. I wouldn’t alienate straight people either.”

“No,” Brodie agreed. “You wouldn’t want to.”

“Just create an environment for
people
,” Ben stated.

“Exactly.” Brodie nodded, sipping his punch. “I think that’s a great idea. What would you call it?”

Ben opened his mouth and realized he was about to reveal a long-kept secret. A gay bar had always been a secret desire of his, and he’d picked a name not long after he realized he was attracted to men. “It’s silly,” he finally answered.

“Is it?” Brodie raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah.” Ben sniffed and shook his head.

“Do you want to hear mine?”

Ben shrugged. “Only if you want to tell me.”

“Will you tell me yours?”

Ben thought about it. “Why not?”

“Okay.” Brodie sighed and smirked. “The Jolly Roger. It would be a pirate-themed gay bar.”

Ben barked out a laugh before he could stop himself.

“I know, it’s stupid.” Brodie hunched with embarrassment.

“No. It’s not stupid at all. It’s fantastic.” Ben smiled, evidently easing Brodie’s self-consciousness. “I would totally hang out there. Would the bartenders dress as pirates?”

“Hell yeah. And the sign would be a rainbow flag with a skull and crossbones.”

“That’s great.” Ben could picture it perfectly. “Mine’s not nearly as good as that.”

“Come on. I told you my stupid idea.”

Ben sighed. “I’d call my bar The Connection.”

Brodie looked puzzled.

“It would be a place where people could hook up, meet like-minded people, and make social connections,” Ben explained.

“Oh. Yeah. That makes sense.” Brodie nodded. “But that’s not stupid at all.”

“On the sign ‘Connection’ would be rainbow colored.” Ben paused, waiting to see if Brodie would recognize the reference. Brodie nodded but said nothing. “You don’t get it. I knew it was stupid,” Ben said with a smirk.

“I’m sorry. Is it something I should know?”

“No. It would be the
Rainbow
Connection,” Ben answered.

“Oh! Like the Muppet song! That’s not stupid. That’s really clever.”

“The rainbow would draw in the gay clientele, but it wouldn’t be so in-your-face that straight people would feel uncomfortable,” Ben explained.

“Yeah. That’s great. I love that!” Brodie said. “It’s subtle. I love the way your mind works.”

“Thanks,” Ben answered, feeling the blush on his cheeks. “I love little in-jokes like that.”

“No. I think that’s awesome. And if somebody gets it, you automatically know they’re cool, right?”

“Yeah. Something like that,” Ben answered with a smile.

“I hope you do it.” Brodie sipped his punch. “I’d work there.”

“Really?”

“Hell yeah.”

“You’re prehired,” Ben said, offering his hand.

“Thanks, boss,” Brodie answered, grabbing Ben’s hand and pumping it a few times. Ben felt a jolt of excitement as they touched, and it seemed like neither was willing to break the contact. The shake slowed. Before Ben realized what had happened, Brodie dipped forward and pressed his lips to Ben’s. To Ben’s surprise, he didn’t offer Brodie any resistance and returned the gesture.

When Ben realized what he was doing, he broke the contact abruptly. “Oh shit.” Ben’s hand flew to his mouth. “Oh damn, Brodie.”

“What?” Brodie looked shocked. “I’m sorry. You’re not down.”

“No. Shit. No, Brodie. You’re totally—um—attractive. But I’m in a relationship.” Ben regretted the words despite their truth.

“Oh. Oh balls. Ben,” Brodie stammered.

“No harm done. It’s okay. You didn’t know.”

“I’m such an idiot.” Brodie turned away.

“No. Come on. Not at all.” Ben laid a hand on the bartender’s shoulder. “Shit happens. It’s a Burnsy party. This punch is probably paint-thinner proof.”

Brodie laughed awkwardly. “Yeah. You’re just such a cool guy. I had to go for it.”

“That’s totally flattering. And I really like talking to you. We should hang out.” Ben paused. “You know, as friends.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that would be awesome.”

“So you said Brodie was a nickname.” Ben decided to change the subject, remembering what the bartender had said the first night they’d met. “What’s it short for?”

“It’s not short for anything. It’s a cinematic reference.” Brodie seemed eager to change the subject as well.

“Brodie, like in
Mallrats
Brodie?” Ben asked.

“Yeah! Wow, you’re the first person to actually know that.”

“I’m a huge Kevin Smith fan. Brodie Bruce is one of my favorite characters,” Ben replied.

“I’m a huge comic fan,” Brodie explained. “I’m a little nuts about them, I guess. That’s why my buddies in high school started calling me Brodie. It stuck.”

“That’s actually pretty admirable,” Ben said. “And you’ve got Jason Lee’s irreverent attitude. It’s pretty cute.”

“Thanks.” Brodie smirked. “I actually have a cousin Walter too.” They both laughed. Their conversation continued as they melted back into the party and reunited with Lena, then grabbed some more punch and drifted back to the dance floor. They spent the rest of the night dancing, drinking, and talking. Lena spilled a beer on Party Shirt before the night drew to a close. Ben and Brodie exchanged numbers while Ben and Lena waited for a cab. Ben couldn’t stop smiling on the ride home, and Lena kept shooting knowing looks in his direction. The taxi dropped Lena off first, and Ben saw her to her door before going home. He’d have to get a cab back in the morning for his car.

His spirits were high, and he felt a little guilty at the giddy feeling in his gut every time he thought about Brodie. Ben fumbled with his house key before finally getting the door open. Unsurprisingly, Chance was in bed, sound asleep. Ben sat on the couch to remove his shoes but fell asleep instead.

Ben woke up with a dry mouth and something trying to work itself into a headache. He rose from the couch and threw off the blanket. Chance must have covered him in the night. Ben padded to the kitchen for water and aspirin, realizing that Chance had removed Ben’s shoes as well. He shook two pills into his palm, pulled a bottle of water from the fridge, changed his mind, and grabbed a Propel instead. He tossed the pills in his mouth and swallowed them, washing them down with the vitamin water.

Ben glanced around his empty house.
Chance’s house
, he corrected himself. He lived here with Chance, but he didn’t really feel like this was his home and wondered if he ever would. He picked up his phone, flicking through his notifications. Nothing important. He set it back on the counter and started to unbutton Party Shirt. He smirked as he remembered dancing into the wee hours with Lena and Brodie. Brodie the Bartender. Ben’s pulse quickened, and he felt instantly guilty. However rocky things with Chance were, he shouldn’t be thinking about someone else like this.

He tossed Party Shirt over the back of the bar chair at the counter and decided to grab more laundry to throw in the washer with it. Banishing thoughts of Brodie the Bartender with the housework seemed like a good idea. His phone vibrated as he walked past with an armload of clothes, snatching Party Shirt as he went. While the washer filled with water, Ben checked his phone.

How’s your head this morning?
A text from Chance.

Not as bad as I anticipated :)

That’s good. Dinner tonight?

We’re talking again?
Ben tapped Send, regretting the fact that there wasn’t some way to imbue text messages with tone. He was afraid that last bit might be taken by Chance as snarky.

It seems so.