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“I hate my life.”
Before we could continue our little trip down memory lane, Rhonda led her knight in shining steel-toed boots back to our seats at the bar, practically dry-humping him along the way. As they approached, she stood on her tiptoes and bit his earlobe.
I turned to Kate, unsure of actual reality. “What the fuck is going on, dude?”
Kate snorted and tried to cover it up with a cough.
“Ladies, this is Stephen,” Rhonda said, her hands wrapped around Sam Elliot’s clone’s waist. “He’s loud, he’s proud, and he’s gonna …” Rhonda peered up at him, lust heavy in her eyes. “What was the next part?” Glancing back at us, Rhonda rolled her eyes, “Sorry, y’all. My memory isn’t what it used to be.”
Stephen turned toward Rhonda and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Baby, I’m loud, I’m proud, and I’m gonna eat you out.”
“Jesus Christ,” Kate said as I choked on my saliva.
“What the hell is happening right now?” I grabbed a nearby beer, not giving a damn who it belonged to, and I chugged it down in an overzealous gulp. A woman in a sequined blazer who looked like a terrifying blend of Liza Minnelli and James Earl Jones scowled at me from a nearby seat.
“Sam Elliot is about to go down on my best friend. You’re just going to have to fucking cope, Liza!”
Over a round of drinks provided by Sam, AKA Stephen, he told us that he had come to the bar that night to support his son, a twenty-seven-year-old drag queen named Sukki Cox. Brandon, AKA Sukki, had come out to him two weeks earlier and had been a nervous wreck during the ordeal. Stephen had taken over fifty pictures of his son’s performance, and he made us look at each one individually as he beamed with pride. My heart swelled, and I may or may not have hugged Stephen and sobbed into his chest as I repeatedly told him that his son was a lucky man.
I would never have that chance. The chance to have an open and honest conversation with my father. To hear him tell me that he’d made mistakes. That he lived with regret for twenty years over the way he handled it. To forgive him. Knowing Joel Fox, however, he’d probably just throw holy water at me and scream quotes from Leviticus.
Four rum and cokes and a few tequila shooters later, Rhonda and Stephen had made their grand farewell, leaving Kate and me alone at the bar. We were quiet for a while, both of us staring at the couples on the dance floor.
“You still love him,” Kate pointed out.
I took another swig of my beer and nodded. “Yup.”
My phone vibrated. Another text from Gray. The fourth since we’d arrived. I shoved the phone back into my pocket. I couldn’t deal with him. Not yet. Not since that night.
“So, what are you going to do about it?’
“There’s nothing to do. I told him. He showed me the ring, and I made a fool out of myself. I thought he was proposing to me. I said yes.” Before she had a chance to react, I slid my hand back into hers and sighed. “And then he accidentally proposed to Sarah after I told him that I loved him.”
She twisted the stirrer around her drink, creating a tiny little Coca-Cola hurricane in her glass. “I knew.” I turned toward her, cocking my head to the side. “Even back then, when we were dating, I knew you were in love with him. I think everyone did. The way you two stared at each other was embarrassing.”
“I want to break up with you again.”
“Yeah, well, too fucking bad, man. You’re stuck with me.” She reached over, tussling my hair. “He still looks at you like that, Kent. When you two are together, he still stares at you like he’s awestruck. He loves you, babe.”
“Then why can’t I be enough for him?” I sniffed and aggressively pushed my drunken tears away from my cheeks. “Why can’t I be enough?”
“You’re going to have to ask him that.”
With a bladder that felt like it might explode at any moment, I stood up. “Yeah. I’ll get right on that.” I leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “You’re an absolute gem, but I need to piss something fierce. When I’m done, do you want to get out of here?”
“Yeah. Go on. I’ll see you in a few.”
The bathroom was possibly the vilest space I’d ever occupied. It smelled of piss and semen. There was a used condom hanging over the side of the sink and sounds of debauchery were coming across loud and clear through the wooden divider of the bathroom stall next to the urinals.
A man in a white shirt and aggressively tight jeans leaned against the wall right next to the urinal. He nodded at me as I approached, sliding his hand against his bulge. He looked to be in his thirties, and he was definitely my type, but I wasn’t in any headspace for a bathroom hookup. All I wanted was to take a piss and go home. There were no dividers between the urinals, so if I was going to pee, my entire dick would be on display. I turned toward the man and glared at him.
“Little privacy, man?” He nodded once, but he didn’t budge. “Seriously, I just want to take a piss in private. Can you fuck off already?”
“You look real familiar, baby. We met before?”
“I don’t know you, and I have no desire to change that.”
He pulled his hand away from his crotch and—for a moment—I thought that he’d gotten the hint. He hadn’t. His hand slid down his thigh, and he palmed his erection. The entire length of his cock was on display, but it did nothing for me. Nobody did. Not since Gray.
