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I had a choice to make in that moment. There were two distinct paths to take, one of which I had navigated countless times. Closeted men, especially the hyper-masculine ones, became virtuosos at redirecting any targeted questions about their homosexuality. In fact, my PR team had taught me a few tricks to avoid suspicious answers. I had never really considered the second path. The obvious one. Openly beingme.
But no.That’s wrong, I realized. There weren’t two paths. Not anymore. There was onlyoneoption.
Bennett had been taking a sip of water when I said, “I’m gay and this is my boyfriend.”
Bennett sprayed water everywhere.
“Thatbitch,” the waiter said. “So she really was lying!”
I nodded once. “Yep. Firebombed my career.”
The waiter’s mouth had been hanging open. “Ugh, Iknewit.” He continued to mumble horrible things about Winnie Bridgewater (again, bornKaren Lewis) as he walked back into the restaurant.
I extended my arm across the table and laid my hand palm out. Bennett slipped his hand into mine and I squeezed. “I told you, I’m not going anywhere. I mean it. We take this as fast or slow as you need it to be. If we only kiss for the next three-hundred-and-sixty-five days, then I will be a happy man every single day for the next year of my life.”
His hand tightened and he lowered his head for a moment before looking back up. “You know youdohave a way with words. You’re not completely unlike your mother.”
I squeezed back, then let go. “Well, I don’t know how else to convey to you how much I care.”Except to say that I’m falling in love with you again.“And boy, oh boy, I can’t wait to sit on my hands.”
Another giggle. Music to my ears.
We dug into our burgers, both of us ravenous. I suspected Bennett had been operating on an empty stomach for the past day and a half like me. We passed the time with idle chitchat. He had to work that night and I scolded him for not waiting to tell me until he had time off. He promised to text me all night, as long as I could stay awake like last time.
The next day, after he slept in, we would hit the gym, then get back to his place for a redo since he had the night off. I promised to bring the wine if he picked out the music. We would spend the time talking and hands-sit kissing. I couldn’t think of a better way to spend the night.
Well, I mean Icould. But I couldn’t think of a better way to spend the night in our new circumstance.
We finished eating. The waiter wasted no time flowing back to the table to clear our plates. When he brought out the bill, he made us look him in the eye (after demanding we remove our sunglasses) and promise we would come back soon to have a romantic dinner for two. Bennett and I both said, “We promise,” at the same time.
And yes, I gave him a one-hundred-percent tip. All in cash.
Out in the parking lot, I walked Bennett to his truck. Forty-eight hours ago, I would have pinned him to the door and given him a hard goodbye kiss. Now, I stayed at a polite distance as he unlocked the door with his key. I watched him climb in and he started the car up, rolled down the window.
He hooked his hand around the steering wheel as he looked over at me. We were at eye level.
“So. Boyfriend, huh?” he said over the idling of his engine.
I gestured widely to present myself. “If you’ll have me.”
“Hmm. Having trouble deciding. Might need something to convince me…”
Could I read that sign? Was that permission? I hesitated for only a second before Bennett seemed to realize my indecision. He said in a bashful tone, “Come here and kiss me goodbye, Connor.”
Hot damn.
It was a sweet kiss. Nothing extreme. Just a long press of my lips against his and a slow pull-away.
Only a fraction from him, I whispered, “That’s what I’ll need. Just tell me what to do, okay?”
He had his eyes closed as he nodded, acknowledging my request.
My phone chirped as I backed away from the truck. Chirped again. Then a third time. A fourth and fifth came in rapid succession.
“Popular guy,” Bennett said.
My brow furrowed in confusion. I pulled out my phone. A dozen text messages came in, all from different people. Colleagues, friends, people I knew back in LA. “The hell?”
“What is it?” he asked.
