Yes (14 page)

“The most interesting one is actually the capitol, but I’ll give it some thought and see what I can come up with.”

“Any conflicts on Friday?” Ryan asked.

“No, none. Can I meet you at La Tazza?”

Ryan did not want Matthew serving as an audience.

“I’m not working that night. I can pick you up.”

“No,” Bartley said. “Let me. We may end up doing a driving tour instead. Text me your address. I’ll make a reservation for seven and pick you up at six thirty.”

“Perfect. I’ll see you then.”

Ryan went back inside and ducked behind the bar. Matthew stared at him. “You talked to Bartley, didn’t you?”

“How did you know that?” Ryan said.

“Because you got that glowy look.”

“You’re delusional.”

“Oh, right. You’ve got Monte Carlo written all over your face.”

“How many times do I have to tell you? It’s Saint-Tropez.”

“Whatever. Why can’t you keep your hands off the one guy Ian has a crush on?”

“It’s not a date. And besides, I have Uncle Ian’s blessing.”

“There are plenty of other eligible young men who would be happy to show you around Austin.”

“Are you jealous?”

Matthew sneered. “Of Bartley James? You’ve got to be kidding. All I’m saying is, you could do better
and
be nice to your uncle at the same time. Bartley’s not the right guy for you, Parker.”

“And who is? You?”

“Maybe.”

Ryan opened his mouth, but words failed him. Was Matthew joking around? They both turned away and fumbled for something to clean. Matthew collected some stray glasses sitting on the bar and piled them into a busing tub.

“What do I have to do to get a latte around here?”

Ryan turned around and saw Jeremy standing at the bar.

“Jeremy. Wow, it’s great to see you.”

“You said you’d be working all weekend and I should stop by. So here I am. Stopping by.”

“Right. Of course.” Ryan looked at Matthew, who raised one eyebrow. “I’m going to take a break.”

“You just took a break,” Matthew said.

“Then I’m going to take another one. Nobody’s in line, dude.”

Matthew looked at Jeremy. “Sure. Take a break. I’ll hold down the fort.”

“You want a single or a double?” Ryan asked.

“A single’s fine,” Jeremy said. “But can you make it with soy milk, please?”

“No problem. Why don’t you grab a table, and I’ll be right out with the drink.”

Jeremy nodded and selected one of the smaller tables in the far corner.

“Who’s that bozo?” Matthew asked.

Ryan turned toward the espresso machine and began to prepare Jeremy’s latte. “He’s not a bozo. He’s a very sweet guy who deserves way better than what I’m about to give him.”

“Where’d you meet him?”

“Grindr.”

“How many guys are you juggling?” Matthew asked. “Three? You got Bartley, the pizza dude, and now fanboy Jeremy over there? Did you see his T-shirt? When are they going to accept that
Firefly
got canceled because nobody watched it?”

“He’s going to make someone a great boyfriend someday.”

“But that someone’s not going to be you?”

“No,” Ryan said. “We just didn’t click that way.”

“You did make plans with Bartley, though, didn’t you?”

“We’re getting together on Friday. So what?”

“Why don’t you just admit it? You like him.”

Ryan stopped heating the milk and set the steel pitcher on the counter. “Okay, I admit it. I like him. But I told you, I have Uncle Ian’s blessing. He’s not interested.”

“He only said that because he’s putting you first. So why don’t you put him first? He needs this more than you do, Ryan. I talked to him the day before he went to Denver, and he sounded pretty down in the dumps. If only you could see him and Bartley together. It’s so obvious they’re made for each other, but for some reason they haven’t figured it out yet.”

Ryan picked up the pitcher of milk and finished Jeremy’s latte. “Why don’t we ever talk about your love life?”

“Because I’m single and don’t have a crush on my uncle’s boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” Ryan shook his head. “They’ve never even—forget it. Look, if this is the part where we lay our true feelings on the table, then why don’t you admit that your problem with me and Bartley has nothing to do with my uncle?”

“I… I was joking when I said maybe.”

“Oh, right. If you want to play it that way, fine. But you’re a senior in college, not high school. If you like somebody, just tell them. And for the record, I’m not juggling the pizza boy either. He’s new in town and needs friends. I told Mark it was a date so that you’d see us together and get off my back about Bartley.”

“And why would you go to such lengths to get me off your back? Because you know I’m right. You should find someone else to show you around town and let Ian have his chance with Bartley.”

“I’ve already made plans.”

“Then cancel them. You’re going to come around eventually, Ryan. You’re going to change your mind between now and Friday. I have to believe that. Otherwise….” Ryan turned away, and Matthew said, “Never mind. Let Jeremy down easy, will you? Rejection sucks.”

Ryan carried Jeremy’s drink to his table and took a seat. “Here you go. It’s on the house.”

“Another one of your uncle’s perks?”

“Something like that.”

“Thanks,” Jeremy said as he took a sip. “Who’s your friend behind the bar?”

“Matthew? Just one of the guys who works here.”

“He likes you.”

“I think he’s confused.”

“Confused?”

Ryan had no further comment.

Jeremy took another drink. “I had a good time the other night.”

“Me too.”

“Would you like a repeat?”

Ryan bit his lip and lowered his head.

“Oh,” Jeremy said.

“I’m sorry, but I’m interested in someone else right now.”

“Matthew the barista?”

“No. The guy’s name is Bartley. I met him on Friday. We’re going to have dinner this week.”

“I should have known someone would snatch you up.”

“I wouldn’t go that far, but I wanted to be honest. You’re a great guy, Jeremy, and I’d like us to be friends, if that’s possible. Do you have room in your life for one of those?”

“I’ve got nothing but room,” Jeremy said. “I don’t know what happened to me. I had tons of friends in Dallas, but it’s been hard meeting people here. I love Austin, but the only buddies I have are the guys I game with, and they’re all straight. No one on Grindr wants anything other than sex. Well, except you.”

“You should hang out here more often. Matthew’s okay, most of the time, and there are some really cute boys who come in here.”

“I noticed.”

Ryan turned and saw Matthew’s line had grown to four. “Come over and sit at the bar. I need to help with these customers.”

They vacated their table, and Ryan worked with Matthew to complete the orders. When the next lull came, Ryan introduced Jeremy to Matthew. Somehow the three of them got back to the topic of Matthew’s porn paper, which interested Jeremy to no end.

“I was a math major, and trust me, we never got to write term papers about porn.”

“What do you do now?” Matthew asked.

“I teach high school.”

“Oh, cool. Which one?”

“Harvest Island Academy.”

“No way. That’s where I went.”

“You grew up in Austin?” Ryan asked.

“Not exactly. We moved here when I was fifteen, right after my dad died.”

“Oh,” Jeremy said.

Ryan touched Matthew on the shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all good. It was just me and my mom after that. I went to the Island on a music scholarship.”

“Do you play an instrument?” Jeremy asked.

“The violin.”

“Has Ryan told you anything about this Bartley guy he’s interested in?”

Matthew snickered. “So he told you about Mr. Monte Carlo, did he?”

“We’re not talking about Bartley,” Ryan insisted.

Jeremy ignored him and continued. “What’s he like?”

“Older,” Matthew said. “Late twenties. Handsome. Successful. Slick. Some would even say slippery. The kind of guy who always gets what he wants.”

“Ah,” Jeremy said. “Not my type at all.”

“What is your type?” Ryan asked.

“I don’t know. The type who wants to go out with me?”

Ryan shook his head. “Come on. We all have a certain kind of guy that makes us weak in the knees.”

“What kind of porn do you watch?” Matthew asked. “That will tell us everything we need to know.”

“I don’t want to say. It might come off as offensive.”

“Let me guess,” Matthew said. “Jewish guys submitting to German dudes?”

Jeremy laughed. “No, it’s nothing quite that offensive. Maybe ‘offensive’ isn’t even the right word. I like working-class men. You know, construction workers, mechanics, delivery guys, that sort of thing. In other words, the opposite of Bartley.”

“So you have a white-trash fetish?” Matthew said.

Jeremy turned red. “I don’t know if I’d put it quite like—”

“Okay, then. Say you get a message on Adam4Adam—because let’s face it, no one pays the Manhunt membership fee anymore—and some smoking hot dude gives you his address. Now, what if that address turns out to be a trailer park? Would that A, make your dick soft, or B, make your dick hard?”

“B.”

“Then ‘white-trash fetish’ is exactly how I’d put it. Nothing offensive about what you’re into.”

“But I’m not working class. My family is filthy rich.”

“Oh,” Matthew said. “I get it. You’re into that whole upstairs, downstairs thing. You’re like a Maurice in search of a Scudder.”

“Not really. I said my family’s rich, not that I am. I’m actually poor at the moment.”

Matthew smiled. “No offense, dude, but I doubt you’ve ever seen poor in your life.”

“I was just—”

“No, no, my bad. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t throw my issues at other people. We’re good, really.”

Matthew presented his fist.

Jeremy grinned and bumped it.

They continued talking for another thirty minutes or so, and then Jeremy announced he had to go. They all exchanged phone numbers, and Matthew invited Jeremy to join his team for Jeopardy Pursuit Night the following week.

“What’s Jeopardy Pursuit?”

“A cross between Jeopardy and Trivial Pursuit,” Ryan said. “We use the Trivial Pursuit board, plus all the pieces, rules, and categories, but we write our own trivia in the style of Jeopardy. All answers must be phrased in the form of a question.”

“So you don’t use cards from the game?” Jeremy asked.

“Nope. It’s all original content.”

“I need someone to cover Science & Nature,” Matthew said. “You’re probably good at Geography and History too, right?”

“I can hold my own.”

“Awesome. You interested, then?”

“Definitely. When is it?”

“Second Thursday of the month,” Ryan said. He glanced at the calendar on the wall, then reached over to flip the page and look at May. “That would be the eighth. It starts at seven o’clock.”

“But I’ll text you beforehand,” Matthew added.

“Sounds like fun. Are you on the team too, Ryan?”

“No, I have to take Uncle Ian’s place as master of ceremonies. I’ll be asking the questions. Or giving the answers, depending on how you look at it.”

“Cool. I’ll see you both later, then. Thanks for the latte.”

Ryan and Matthew watched as Jeremy exited La Tazza. When the door closed, Ryan said, “That was nice of you, inviting him to join your team. He said he’s having trouble meeting people.”

“I’m a good guy, Ryan. And I believe you’ll prove to be a good guy too. Jeremy’s frigging adorable. We have to find him a boyfriend.”

“Not interested yourself?”

“What? You’re calling me white trash, now?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“No,” Matthew said. “He’s not the right guy for me.”

R
YAN
CLOSED
La Tazza at ten o’clock and went home to call Mark. It took him a few minutes to decompress and slip back into being Ian.

“I think Matthew likes me.”

“He’s a piece of work, that one,” Mark said. “Bizarre but fascinating discussion this morning. And I hate to disagree with you, but I think Matthew likes
Ryan
.”

“That’s what I meant.”

A pause.

“This is weird,” Mark said.

“I know.”

“Let’s talk about something else.”

“Ryan has a date with Bartley on Friday. Bess Bistro and tour afterward. Maybe walking, maybe driving. He’s going to give it some thought and come up with something. Mark, I haven’t been this excited about a date in over five years.”

“I’m happy for you. Really. It’s sad, that’s all.”

“What’s sad?”

“Ian is slowly disappearing. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not blaming you. You have to do it. You have to become Ryan. But it feels like my friend is slipping away, and a part of me doesn’t like it.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to be Ian when we talk.”

“No. That’s not smart. I can be friends with Ryan. I think he can even help keep me young. But it’s never going to be the same, and we both know it. Your life is beginning all over again, and mine… well, mine isn’t.”

CHAPTER NINE

T
HREE
DAYS
later, on the last morning of April, Ryan and Matthew opened La Tazza together. Matthew had taken Monday and Tuesday off but then asked for a double shift on Wednesday to recoup the lost income. They were standing behind the bar at 8:35 when Bartley James walked through the north door. Ryan could feel Matthew tense up next to him.

Bartley smiled as he approached the counter. “Good morning, boys.”

“Hi, Bartley,” Ryan said.

Matthew cleared his throat. “Hey, Monte.”

“Excuse me?” Bartley said.

Ryan kicked Matthew under the bar. “Ignore him.” A young woman entered through the west door. Ryan switched places with Matthew and said, “Would you get her order, please?” Matthew stepped up to the register while Ryan and Bartley moved down the bar and out of his way. “I’m looking forward to dinner on Friday.”

“Me too,” Bartley said. “Have you heard from Ian?”