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“You’re so horny for him, why don’t you go knock on his door right now?” teases Omar dryly. “I’m sure he gets lonely in that basement apartment of his.”
“Oh, hell no. You kidding me? Well …” Lex reconsiders, lifting a beer to his lips. “Maybe after a few more of these.”
“Guys! I got an idea!” cries out Brett, grabbing me by the shoulders. “Let’s show him to the gang!”
Omar lifts an eyebrow. “Don’t subject your new roommate to the gauntlet yet. The poor guy’s only been here five seconds. Let him get settled in.”
I’m lost. “The gauntlet? The gang? Who?”
“On the other hand,” Lex puts in like I’m not even here, “better to rip the Gayville Band-Aid right off and see if he runs off like your last roomie did.”
Brett appears notably anxious from his friends’ reactions, so I decide to put him at ease with a shrug. “Y’know what? I think it sounds fun.”
Lex, Brett, and Omar stare at me. Then, after a breath, Omar rises from the couch to grab himself another slice of pizza. “You’d be meeting the whole gayborhood at once, you know. Do you have any idea what that’ll be like for a twink like you?”
I laugh. “A twink? You think I’m a twink?”
Lex folds his arms on the back of the couch and rests his chin on them, batting his eyes. “You are so precious. Like a blue-eyed baby doll on a shelf. Let me describe what it’ll be like. Have you ever done molly on a rollercoaster while your boyfriend blows you in the back car?”
“Jesus, Lex, don’t scare the kid,” cries Omar.
Feeling my renewed sense of boldness stirring inside me, I cross my arms and lean against the counter. “I think you are all sorely underestimating my ability to adapt to new situations. Maybe I’m not as innocent as I look.”
Brett and his friends look among one another, a slice of pizza frozen halfway to Omar’s mouth.
“Alright! Send the group text!” Brett announces at once, slapping my back and pulling me in for a side hug. “We’re going out tonight, boys!”
“But first things first,” I say, then turn to Brett. “Your bathroom?”
A moment later, I’m in the bathroom, the door closed, and I experience a long-awaited moment of relief as I empty my bladder to the tune of Brett, Omar, and Lex’s muffled voices carrying through the door—likely talking about me. After letting my eyes dance across the cluttered bathroom, from the colorful mismatched towels to the rubber-ducky shower curtains to the four canisters of hair mousse on the sink, it occurs to me that I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be in my life.
Knock-knock. “Bro,” comes Brett’s voice. “Not to freak you out, but you might want to change into a sexier outfit. The guys suggest something tight.”
4
My head spins from all the different names that have been shoved into my ears over the past hour. Not to mention all the faces, drink offerings, hugs, kisses on the cheek, and surprise slaps on the ass.
“Guys, c’mon, give my boy here some space!” shouts Brett at one point. “Let him breathe!”
Spoiler: They don’t.
And I suspect it has everything to do with these bun-hugging shorts Lex grabbed for me out of his apartment. They’re showing everything my mama gave me, and that’s not even to mention this tight shirt my new friends have me in, too, which might as well be a crop-top.
My ass cheeks might have handprints on them.
I can’t confirm it. It’s just a sneaking suspicion.
“Bro, I knew you had it in you!” The two faces of a blurry Brett cheer me on after I down another shot. “Think you’re up for one more club?”
Brett, Omar, Lex, and I have been to three bars and two different nightclubs already. My ass hasn’t recklessly drank so much since the night of my twenty-first birthday—last year—and even then, I was in the comfort of only one bar in the middle of a dusty Kansas town, joined by just a handful of high school pals, football blasting on the TV at the smoky bar, and an old pool table between us. I won every game that night, by the way.
It’s a damned miracle I’m still on my feet as the tipsy quartet of us lazily make our way back down the twelve blocks toward Piazza Place.
“Should we take him to Aubergines?” asks Lex. “It’s on the way, begging to be stopped at, and it’s a staple of the whole Mayville experience, so—”
“No, no,” Omar interjects, shaking his head. “I veto that. Way too soon. Maybe our next outing?”
“It’s up to Connor!” decides Brett as he grabs me by the shoulders, pulling my stunned face right in front of his. “You wanna go? Or call it a night?”
It’s my first night here. I haven’t had this much fun in years. The flashing lights of a strange new city beckon me toward their sexy, neon glory.
