“No, I work in an animal behavior lab.We test products for dogs, like toys, treats, and beds.”I gauged their reactions.If they were animal rights activists, I’d have to explain that we didn’t hurt or kill the dogs we worked with.We got them from kill shelters, and we adopted them out once they’d finished their behavior trials.But Cub and Andy had checked out, the way most nonscientists did when I talked about my job, which waswhy I never did with Eddie.
Then the two of them started talking shop with him.When he talked shop, he sounded like a different person, not the guy I’d been living with for the past five months.
“I hear Jack Lawson’s casting for his latest movie,” said Andy.“He hasn’t put out a call yet.”
“Jack Lawson,” said Cub.“Great guy to work with.”
“Great director,” said Andy.“Amazing screenwriter.”
“Easy on the eyes, too,” said Cub.
“It’s about the work,” said Andy.
“Yeah, but I’m not blind,” said Cub.
“You’ve worked with Jack before, Eddie,” said Andy.“Worth a shot calling him.”
Eddie said, “Thanks for the tip.”
The server came to take our empty glasses.Eddie reached over to take mine, touching my arm in the process.He’d touched me deliberately a total of five times since I’d met him.And whenever he had—sparks.But I didn’t want to feel that way now.Not in front of his friends, people I didn’t know.We’d never been in public with other people before, except when he took me to his work and that second night at Deep Ice where everyone around us was drunk, and the lights were flashing, so no one really saw us.Anyway, when he touched me, I jerked away from his hand so fast I knocked over the glass, and it rolled across the table.
Cub picked it up and handed it to the server.“We should head,” he said.“Going to London for an audition tomorrow.Music video.See ya, Eddie.Nice to meet you, Craig.”
Cub and Andy left.I slid along the booth so I was sitting across from him.I was still shaking.
“What’s wrong?”he said.“Why don’t you want me to touch you?You don’t mind at home.”
“We’re in public.”
“I didn’t grope you or anything.”
“Your friends could see.Did you tell them we’re living together?”
“No.”He sounded offended I’d asked.
That was when I knew I’d fucked up.
We didn’t talk till we got home.I turned on the TV to cut the silence.He stayed standing by the door.
“I’m confused as all fuck right now,” he said.
“Why?”
“We’ve been living together five months, and you’re not comfortable with us touching in public—just touching like two friends.”
“Well, I’m not, okay?I don’t want people to think I’m—”
“What?”he snapped.“A faggot?Like me?That’s what Trish called me.You want to hop on that train too?”
Oh fuck.“You’re not, though.You’re bi.”
Which made him even madder.
“Youfucking asshole.I’ve been walking on eggshells around you for months because I didn’t want to do anything even slightly sexual with you.Because I know you’re uncomfortable with your sexuality.I know you’re still dealing with that.I would never put a hand on you that way without your consent.But the one time, the onefuckingtime I touch you, innocently, in public, you act like I’m contaminated.Don’t you dare dump your homophobia on me.”
He left and slammed the door on his way out.
What are the neighbors going to think?Did they hear that?
