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The sidewalks, adorned with twinkling fairy lights from a nearby spring festival, cast a glow, making every shadow seem longer, every footstep more pronounced. A handful of students from Blue Ridge milled around the streets, the rest having already left for spring break. They’d shed their collared shirts, blazers, and loafers for more casual attire and sipped on cold lemonades and iced teas, chatting with local girls. Julian recognized a few of the young men from his classes. He tensed his shoulders, avoiding their stares, acutely aware of how he must look—tripping behind Alex, juggling the weight of a satchel and a conspicuously dangling bike helmet.
“You all right back there, Professor?” The glint in Alex’s eye caught the streetlight as he turned his head.
Julian’s lips quirked in response, warmth soothing his tingling skin.What is this pull?
He considered the question as he traced the slope of Alex’s shoulders and the careless tumble of hair on his neck. Torn between the temptation of stolen glances and the impulse to retreat, Julian hoped digging his hand in the leather strap of the satchel could restrain him from grabbing Alex and tasting the teasing curve of his mouth.
“You’re thinking too loud.” Alex used his elbow to bump Julian’s arm.
Julian gripped the bike helmet, trying to decipher the young man’s neutral expression. “Where exactly are we going?”
Stopping abruptly in front of a wooden door with a faded emblem of a Chinese lantern, he said, “Here.”
The faint thud of bass reverberated from inside. Searching for any moisture in his mouth, Julian asked, “The Crimson Lantern? Isn’t this a gay bar?”
“Not technically, but, yeah, it’s the only…. friendly spot in town for guys like us.”
“Guys like us,” Julian repeated, blinking at the peeling paint and faded signage. The lights and music throbbing against the doorframe seemed to heckle his hesitance. He studied Alex, catching the slight tilt of his head, an open yet shy gesture.
“Is this all right?”
Heat rose in his cheeks even as a pang of panic shot through him. To be seen walking into such an establishment… with a student seemed foolish. Potentially dangerous.And yet…
Bending forward, their faces inches apart, he said, “We’re not doing anything wrong. If anyone has a problem with it, that’s their issue, not ours.”
The unexpected touch of Alex’s hand jolted through Julian’s body. He drew a sharp breath, finding his lungs too small to contain the fire that seemed to burn from the inside out.
Alex was right. Julian wasn’t closeted per se, but he didn’t advertise his sexuality either. Still, there was no shame, and certainly no recklessness, in acknowledging who he was.
“Lead the way.” Julian summoned a smile he hoped hadn’t looked strained.
Alex’s responding grin lit his eyes as he pulled open the worn wooden door, revealing a small foyer area and a sign indicating restrooms. The pendant lights from the ceiling illuminated walls plastered with a visual tapestry. A poster of Freddie Mercury mid-performance caught his eye, next to a black-and-white photograph of the Stonewall riots.
Still holding Julian’s hand, Alex guided him through the entrance to a row of colorful lockers that lined an exposed-brick wall. “Relax, Professor. No one’s going to bite. Unless you ask politely.” He punctuated the last comment with a gentle squeeze before releasing his hold to slip off his backpack.
“Very funny.” Julian shifted his weight, slipping off the satchel. Before he could figure out what to do with the bike helmet, Alex took it and placed it on top of his backpack.
The door to an adjacent room jerked open, spilling an almost blinding light that transformed the locker area into an interrogation room. Emerging from the light was a bartender with a physique that could mix drinks and break hearts with equal ease. He hefted a box of premium liquor bottles, which he lowered when he noticed Alex.
“Evening, stranger. Couldn’t stay away from me, eh?” When the bartender smiled, the sparkle of his teeth matched the sparkle from the diamond stud in his left earlobe. “You want the usual?”
“Thanks.” Giving the bartender a casual nod, Alex said to Julian, “A drink will loosen you up. What’s your pleasure?”
Julian tried to blink away the blinding light. “Gin and tonic, please.”
The bartender scanned Julian—perhaps sizing him up—before returning to Alex. “Lemme put these bottles away, and I’ll take care of you.” Winking in Alex’s direction, the bartender strolled away.
“Friend of yours?” Julian asked, eyebrow raised.
“Not at all.” Alex gave a dismissive wave. “I hang out here every once in a while, and he’s found flirting scores bigger tips.”
Julian pressed against the lockers, the relief of the cool, rigid metal seeping through his shirt. “Does it work on you?”
“I’m on a budget of ramen noodles and used textbooks.” He pulled the keys from the lockers, his expression communicating far more than secure storage. “What do you think?”
Following him across the creaking wooden floors, Julian recognized the familiar strains of an ’90s synth-pop hit sung with the sultry voice of a contemporary indie singer. The clinking of glassware punctuated animated conversations, laughter bubbled up in pockets, and the occasional cheer signaled a toast or a reunion.
Julian eased onto a stool at the weathered-wood bar. Alex’s casual posture and crooked smile blended seamlessly with the surroundings.
