Yes (27 page)

“I’m not being critical. It’s just the more I get to know you, the more…. Okay, no more stalling. What exactly did you learn about me in your dream?”

“I learned a lot, but I don’t know which parts are true and which parts were my imagination. So let’s pretend I don’t know anything. I’m just going to say what I have to say, no games. I’m really into—”

“Wait,” Bartley said. “I’m sorry, but I have to stop you. Obviously something happened in that dream of yours, and you finally figured out I’ve been flirting with you for weeks. You were about to say you’re really into me, I know that, and I want nothing more than to hear those words. God, you have no idea. But this will all come crashing down when I tell you that I’m—I’m sorry. Can you give me one more minute to enjoy this feeling? Please, before you take it all away.”

“Don’t be afraid,” Ian said. “Say it.”

“I can’t.”

“Bartley, I’m HIV positive, and I’ve made a lot of mistakes. I won’t judge you for yours if you don’t judge me for mine.”

Bartley’s face registered a rapid series of emotions. Then he threw his arms around Ian and kissed him. Ian almost fell backward, but he recovered and stood solid. He held Bartley in his arms, and their kiss lingered. Ian reached around and cupped Bartley’s ass.

“So am I,” Bartley said. “HIV positive. Is it wrong that I’m happy about that?”

“No. Not at all. I understand it’s weird—being happy someone is positive. But we’re compatible. For us, that’s a good thing.”

Bartley kissed him again. “How long?”

“Ten years,” Ian said.

“Oh, you know your way around this thing. Maybe you can give me some pointers. It happened to me last September, and I know what you’re thinking. But I didn’t cheat on Mason and get HIV in the process.”

“That’s not what I was thinking. At all.”

“I would really like to have sex with you. And I’m talking about the kind of sex where we disappear for two days, and Colleen will have to run La Tazza. Do you understand what I’m talking about?”

“I do.”

Bartley reached down and squeezed the bulge in Ian’s pants. “I was actually asking you out on a date last week, before you went to Denver. But when you looked at me with that blank expression, I panicked and added the ‘as friends’ part.”

“I understand. By the way, I know what your tattoo means.”

Bartley stepped back. “Are you serious?”

“I went to see Rachel earlier today. Yours is one of the Chinese symbols for ‘forgiveness.’”

“Did she tell you that?”

“No, you did. In my dream.”

“Ian, come on.” Bartley looked away. “This is getting a little
Twilight Zone-
ish, don’t you think?”

“I know. I’m sorry. But something good is happening to us. Are we just supposed to ignore that?”

Bartley paused but then stepped forward and kissed Ian again. “No. But you got something wrong with everyone else. I wonder what you got wrong about me.”

“Hmm, let’s see. Do you like baseball?”

“Love it. Big Astros fan.”

“Did you watch Elias and Lari on YouTube?”

“Who?”

Ian laughed. “One of the European soap opera trims I told you about. You told me you watched it.”

“Sorry, that never happened. I vaguely remember the conversation before you went to Denver, but sometimes I pretend to pay attention just because I want to sleep with you. I used to watch you talk and wonder what your lips tasted like.”

“Now you know.”

Bartley kissed him and licked his lips. “Espresso and chocolate. We should take a road trip to Houston for a ball game.”

“Maybe they’ll put us on the kiss cam.”

Bartley grinned. “I’m so glad to see you again. So what tattoo did you get?”

“At first I thought I’d get the other symbol for ‘forgiveness.’ You know, so we’d have a complete set between us. But Rachel didn’t ask me what I wanted. She just pointed to my left arm and said, ‘How about right there’?” Ian peeled off the bandage and showed the tattoo to Bartley. In simple block letters was an English word.

“When I was dreaming, this is what woke me up,” Ian said. “Every day, for the rest of my life, it’ll remind me there’s only one way forward. I’m done being angry. I’m done feeling sorry for myself. I’m done with regrets and living on the sidelines. From now on, if life is a question, then this is the answer.”

“I don’t know if I can do that,” Bartley said. “At least not by myself.”

“Then let’s do it together. Look, I know you’ve been hurt. You said you didn’t cheat on Mason, which means there’s only one way you could have gotten HIV—and of all the ways to get it, that one sucks the most. I understand why Rachel gave you that tattoo. Every morning, when you wake up, you’ll need to forgive him just to get out of bed. You think the idea of ever trusting someone again is impossible. But now imagine you roll over and I’m there, next to you. And I’m there tomorrow too, and the day after, and the tomorrow after that. Every morning, I’m there—day after day, week after week—a constant reminder that someone puts you first. After a while, those weeks will roll into months. And then one day, a few years from now, you’ll look at me and be sure. Because every time I get frustrated and ask myself if I should stay, I’m going to look down at my arm for the answer—and that answer will never change. If I’ve learned anything from doing it all over again, it’s that I need to stop thinking of my life as a series of mistakes. Nothing that led me to this moment with you could be a mistake. I’m going to be a good boyfriend, Bartley. I’m going to treat you well and tell you the truth and never betray you.”

Bartley ran his hands through his lush hair. “I swear to God, La Tazza must have some kind of magic spell cast over it. It’s just….”

“What?” Ian said.

“You’re the one dream I thought would never come true.”

Ian put his arms around Bartley and kissed him. “This isn’t a dream.”

“Okay,” Bartley said. “I’m all in. Nothing would make me happier than to wake up next to you every morning. But at the risk of sounding fast and easy, can I ask you a favor? I haven’t had sex in over seven months, and all this kissing and touching has flipped every crank and lever in my body. So can we just skip the first date and go straight to bed? Please.”

Ian held out his arm and pointed to his tattoo in response. “Come on,” he said as he took Bartley by the hand. “Let’s go ask Colleen if she can run La Tazza for a couple more days. I’ve got a feeling we’re going to need it.”

Quentin opened the east door and stepped onto the patio. “Hey guys. Sorry to interrupt, but you’ll never guess who just called me.”

“Who?” Bartley said.

“Topher Manning. He asked if I knew someone named Ian Parker. He had a dream about you last night. Something to do with his kitchen, a late-night conversation, and a glass of milk?”

About the Author

B
RAD
B
ONEY
lives in Austin, Texas, the seventh gayest city in America. He grew up in the Midwest and went to school at NYU. He lived in Washington, DC, and Houston before settling in Austin. He blames his background in the theater for his writing style, which he calls “dialogue and stage directions.” His first book was named a Lambda Literary Award finalist. He believes the greatest romantic comedy of all time is
50 First Dates
. His favorite gay film of the last ten years is
Strapped
. And he has never met a boy band he didn’t like.

Website: http://www.bradboney.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/BradBoneyBooks

Twitter: @BradBoney