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“Dude, I’d get lost if we take the subway, and besides, I don’t have one of those fancy metro cards. I’ll just call myself a Lyft.”
“You sure? Hey, I can call you a—”
“Already got the app open.” Skylar gives his phone a wiggle. “Lucky me! There’s one available just seven blocks from here. Already on the way. Heh, who knows, maybe someday it’ll be my own awesome apps I’m using that I’ve developed.”
“Yeah, awesome!” I stare at his phone, piercing it with my anguished eyes. I can’t give up this easily, right? “Maybe when you finish up with your sister, we can meet up afterwards and—?”
“Shit, it’ll be late as fuck by then, and I’ve got an early morning with florists and other crap.” He places a hand on my shoulder. Every cell in my body zeroes in on those five warm fingers of his. “I appreciate dinner. If I’d known you were paying, I wouldn’t have gone for that overpriced bisque.”
“Nah, it’s no problem!” I can feel pulse waves of energy coming from his warm hand. My own are thrust into my pockets.
Spontaneously, he grabs me and pulls me in for another hug, trapping my arms to my side. “This is so fucking unreal!” he exclaims over my back. “I can’t believe you and I are in the same city again and standing in front of each other!” He pulls away and gets a look at me. “I’ve missed you.”
“Me too,” I tell him—biggest understatement ever.
“Aww, look at your face. You’re pissed I gotta head off early, aren’t you?”
My eyes go wide. “I … what?”
“Alright. Fuck it. Y’know what?” He pulls his phone back out. “My sis can handle a single night on her own. Can’t my needs come first now and then? I haven’t seen you in years! I’ll cancel.”
Before I can even process a thought, my hand slaps onto his phone, stopping him.
Skylar looks up, startled.
It doesn’t fully hit me that I’m kind of holding his hand. “You … You don’t have to … to …”
“What?” Sky swallows. He’s tensed up at the gripping of my hand on his phone—and his fingers, which were a second from tapping Lena’s name. “I don’t have to … what?”
I want him to do it. I want him to put off his needy little sister and tell her he can’t help her right now. I want him to cancel everything and spend the whole night with me. I want to laugh at jokes with him until our guts are sore. I want to feel his body next to mine as we sit next to each other and stir up all of those old what-if feelings. I want to tell him my secret. I want to tell him …
I want to tell him everything.
But instead, my heart—as usual—puts my bud’s needs in front of mine. “Your sister needs you. Go and help her out. I’ll … We’ll …” I swallow hard. After weeks of anticipating his arrival, this is in no way easy to say. “You and I can hang out another night this week. Whenever you’ve got time. Don’t worry about it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” I force myself to say. “Yeah, really.”
A beige sedan pulls up to the curb. The pair of us turn to it—Skylar’s ride, ready to take him away.
Sky looks at me. “Damn. You’re the best. I don’t know whether to hug you or kiss you.”
Fuck, those words … “Tell her I said hi, alright?”
He gives me another huge hug, putting his full weight into it. I close my eyes, feeling every bit of my old buddy as he embraces me. My heart is—for this fleeting moment—totally at peace for the first time in years.
His mouth is near my ear when he suddenly asks, “Was there something you were about to say earlier? When my sister called?”
Every string in my body is thrummed by that unassuming, softly-spoken question.
“It can wait,” I finally manage to answer.
The strings he thrummed continue to reverberate even after he lets go, pockets his phone, then gets one last look at me. “Text me those DJs, alright? I’ll let you know the moment I’m free. This is just a pause to our night, Brett! This ain’t over!”
“See you soon, Sky!” I shout as he slips into the car. Then it takes off, carrying my guy away.
I stand on that curb until the car is out of sight.
Just that tight hug and his lips near my ear …
Well, it left me with a frustrating parting gift.
“Fuck me,” I mutter to myself as I squirm with a tightly-contained boner in my pants.
A moment later, I’m on a subway train, staring ahead at my sulking, warped reflection on a metal surface. The train rocks me side to side as I grip the bar and hang on. I barely hear someone beat-boxing behind me, or the shouts of another whiny kid in the back, or a burst of mirthful laughter.
