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I suddenly can’t stop smiling. “He’s … unexpected.”
“Yeah?”
“Not the kind of guy I usually spend time with. Ever.” I plug my charger into the wall, then set my dead phone on the arm of the couch to rest. Suddenly, I’m at Adrian’s place again, and I can feel his arms around me while we slept—even if they weren’t actually around me. Why did I drink so much wine last night? “He’s big. Muscular. Built like a machine, but with the face of an angel. Blue eyes that just kinda … take your breath away.”
“Wow, really?”
“The kind of guy I’d draw nudes of in class, but not in a grotesque, sexual way. Rather an artistic appreciation of the male form … the kind of guy artists make sculptures out of … a total Adonis.”
Vann bites off half the banana, staring at me wide-eyed, listening.
“But none of that even matters, because …” I’m still fighting my smile. “What really got me is … who he is underneath all that. He’s vulnerable. He’s sensitive. He has passion. Protective instincts. He’s interested in everything I say, even the stuff that usually bores guys I go out on dates with, and … I guess I just find him fascinating to get to know. He’s like a …” I feel out of breath as I stare into nothingness, imagining his face when I left him at his apartment. I really should’ve gone to breakfast with him. “He’s like a dream.”
“Jesus, Quintin, give me a name before I pass out here from anticipation.”
I feel as light as air. “Adrian,” I finally confess.
There’s a moment of silence.
“Adrian? … You mean Adrian Tyler?”
Vann’s change of tone catches my attention. I look at him questioningly. “I don’t know his last name.”
He lowers his banana. “Did he mention any brothers?”
“Yeah, he’s got a dozen of them. One’s Skipper, which is a name I don’t think anyone can forget. Then there’s—”
“Kent and Brett. That Adrian. Oh, god.”
My smile fades. “What? What is it?”
All the joy drains out of Vann’s face. He rushes up to me. “Quintin, you gotta cut it off with him.”
“Why?”
“Don’t pursue anything with that guy. He’s bad news. Bad, bad, bad fucking news.”
“Wait, calm down. How is he bad news? What do you mean?”
“He’s …” Vann sighs and sits on the end table by the couch, dazed. “He’s a monster, Quintin. He has the worst reputation for leading guys on, making them fall in love with him, then breaking their hearts when he gets bored. He’s a serial tourist playboy.”
I stare at Vann, stunned to silence.
“I don’t know what he said to you last night,” he goes on, “or how he possibly charmed you, but I’m telling you, it’s all a lie.”
“Vann, that …” Suddenly I’m on the verge of laughter. “Sorry, but that can’t be true at all. What you’re describing sounds like a totally different person.”
“I’m telling you, Quintin. I’ve not been here that long, and even I know about the infamous Adrian fuckin’ Tyler. Trust me. Red flags. Red flags everywhere.”
I don’t even know where to begin. “Maybe the stories you’ve heard about him are from his past. He said he had a troubled past with his love life. He told me …” Did he tell me all that much about him? Come to think of it, he didn’t mention much at all about his love life. “He told me … things about himself.”
“Things …?”
“We talked a lot. There was wine. I can’t remember the details.”
He touches my arm. “I know it’s a lot to take in …”
“It’s not the same Adrian,” I cut him off. “Whatever you think you know. Whatever you heard. The guy I met last night is a standup guy.”
“Or a guy who will stand you up when you lose his interest.” I give Vann a look. He lowers his voice. “I’m not trying to ruin your weekend or anything. I’m just looking out for you, that’s all.”
“You’re the one who wanted me to find myself here.”
“Yeah. Find yourself. Not lose yourself.”
He’s still holding my arm. His grip is tightening. “You care for me, and I very much appreciate that, but I promise you I’m okay.”
“That’s what they all probably say.”
“You’re new here, too, just like you said, and—”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m saying.”
“But it does. This sounds like the Spruce coming out of you, believing everything you hear about other people, listening to gossip, feeding the rumor mills …”
Vann lets go of me, taken aback. “Hey, now …”
“Have you even had a conversation with him?” I ask with a shrug. “Just two words? Didn’t think so. And I just spent a night in his apartment, where I was totally wasted, drank way too much, and he didn’t take advantage of me.”
He considers that for half a second. “Okay, that’s … good. But it doesn’t mean—”
