A Kind of Romance (29 page)

“Very.”

A well-dressed, elderly couple shared the car with us. They spared a curious glance our way that made me wonder what we looked like to an outside observer. Did we look like two guys on a date gone wrong? Could they sense my angst and frustration as my lover stared blankly at the vertical seam of the elevator door?

Fuck, I needed a cigarette.

The walk from the building to the wide glass doors seemed to take forever, but the blast of cool air when we stepped outside felt refreshing. It was a beautiful, clear late October evening. And it was nine p.m. There was plenty of time to get the night back on track, if I could only figure out how to fix this. I glanced at Benny, who seemed momentarily enthralled with the flurry of taxis whizzing by on the roundabout in Columbus Circle. He pushed his hand through his hair distractedly and then pulled his cell from his pocket again. I studied his body language. The rigid set of his shoulders and serious expression didn’t bode well.

“Hector probably isn’t far. Let’s go back to SoHo and—”

“I’m taking a cab.”

“Ben… c’mon. Don’t do this. That was nothing and—”

“I know.”

“You know. Why are you mad, then?” My accent thickened as my blood pressure began to steadily climb. I shook my head in exasperation when I accidentally hit a passerby with my animated hand motions. I let out a deep breath and pointed toward the entrance to Central Park on the opposite side of the street. “It’s too loud here. Come with me.”

I pulled his elbow and hoped he wouldn’t shove me away. He followed but didn’t speak until we’d reached the park and started down a path.

“Stop. I don’t want to walk in the park, and there’s nothing to talk about.”

“Benny. Nothing happened. I promise. I walked in on him and Clay in the bathroom and—honestly I think they set me up. If you think about it, it’s clever. I was just thinking how ridiculous it all was. I’d been thinking about how to get them back for months, but now—”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

Benny pursed his lips unhappily as he averted his gaze toward a lamplight over a park bench. There was a curious beauty in the way the yellowish light illuminated the deserted bench. It looked lonely yet inviting at the same time. I stared at it for a moment too, wondering what to say next. Other than sharing a level of high anxiety I couldn’t quantify, we weren’t in sync, and I didn’t know how to set things right.

“I don’t need to think of anything anymore. I’m over it. It’s their problem. Not mine.”

“Hmm.”

The vague noise wasn’t promising, but I stepped closer and traced his jawline with my thumb. I was desperate to see him smile.

“Let’s get outta here. What do ya feel like doin’, boyfriend?”

Immediately, I knew I’d said the wrong thing. I quickly turned the words over in my head, but they didn’t sound so bad. The hurt in his voice indicated otherwise.

“I’m going home,” he murmured in a low tone as he stepped away.

I grabbed his hand and barreled ahead without any finesse. I was flying low and dangerously, like a new pilot with a fancy plane and no fucking clue how to maneuver it. I needed help, but the look in Benny’s eyes told me I was on my own.

“There are too many costumes cluttering your apartment. Let’s go to my place and—”

“No.”

“No?” My heart took a nosedive to my stomach. I felt suddenly sick and clammy. The way I did when things were no longer in my control.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” he said softly.

“What is it we’re doing?” I tried to smile, hoping to defuse the building tension, but my mouth wouldn’t cooperate.

Benny gave a short, humorless huff before looking me in the eye. “That’s the problem. I don’t know and you sure as hell don’t seem to know either. We’re playing a game that’s gone on longer than it should have. This isn’t working for me, and now it feels… complicated.”

“Benny, there’s no game here. We’re easy. We can’t worry about idiot exes or—”

“You’re right.
I
can’t worry about them… or your plans for revenge. What I have to worry about is why I’m standing on the sidelines watching when all it does is make me wish I could make you see… me.”

The chasm between us widened like a physical thing. I could almost hear the ground crack as I frantically searched for words to mend the divide.

“You’re talkin’ crazy.” Lame. Why did I turn into my father at the worst possible time? I needed a Shakespeare sonnet right now, not Gulden-style platitudes.

“Maybe so, but I don’t want to be your fake boyfriend anymore, Zeke.”

He gave me a sad smile before turning away. I was after him in a flash.

“Whoa! Hey! Hold up! We’re not
fake
anything. You know that.” I grabbed at his sleeve but let go immediately and looked longingly toward the bright lights beyond the park entrance. At the end of the day, I was a numbers guy. I usually was good with a quick comeback, but I couldn’t talk about feelings. It was why I saw a therapist, for fuck’s sake. This wasn’t going to be pretty, but I had to try. “Let’s make this real. Us.”

“What?”

I took a giant gulp of air and let it out in a dramatic rush. Then ruined my delivery with a careless shrug. I wondered if he had any idea how hard my heart was beating. I was dizzy and out of my depth. I hadn’t planned on having this conversation tonight, and I was woefully unprepared. “We’re real. If you want the word… let’s use it. That’s all.”

Silence.

Taxis honked, a far-off siren blared, and pieces of nearby conversations floated on the breeze. But the silence was louder. It was crushingly clever in its cruelty. It made me cling to hope, though I knew with horrid certainty my luck was running out.

“No.”

“Why are you saying no? It’s what you want. You just said so. I want it too! See? Simple!” He rolled his eyes impatiently and said my name. I had to keep talking to drown him out and get back on track. “Stop making things so complicated. Let’s get real food and a fucking drink. I’ll take you someplace nice and we’ll celebrate a new start. I’ll call Hector and—”

“Stop it!” We stared at each other for a heated moment before he continued. “You don’t get it. I am a full-time job. I am no one’s consolation prize. I’m not the last kid picked on the team. I’m the only one here. If you can’t see me… only me, then you aren’t ready for me.”

“I do see you. Only you. What are you talking about?”

“You don’t let go, Zeke. Maybe you’re over your ex, but you hate that you got fucked over and part of you won’t forget it. Ever. I don’t think that kiss was anything more than a power play. I know you. You want him to know what he’s missing. You want him to want you.”

“No. I don’t want—”

“You keep a running tab on who fucked you over and you don’t forget a thing. Your dad, your teenage baggage, bad boyfriends. They all take up real estate in your head. So your ex fucked you over… so what? Get angry, then get over it. Life doesn’t go the way we plan sometimes. You may be one hundred percent correct about every argument you ever have, but you still might not get the last word.”

He bit his trembling lip and wiped a tear from the corner of his eye before it fell unchecked. “I don’t know how I got here. You mean more to me than I wanted you to. I went out with you for your dad’s sake, and I enjoyed it because it pissed you off. I loved that a little hair dye could make you nuts. You made me laugh. Somewhere things changed for me. Maybe they did for you too. But not enough. I just want you to know—”

Benny’s eyes welled ominously. He hugged his arms around himself tightly and then dropped them to wipe at his nose with the sleeve of his beautiful coat.

“Benny, don’t.”
Don’t cry. Don’t talk. Don’t go
, I chanted over and over like the refrain from a song playing on an endless loop in my brain.

He moved toward me and laid his head on my chest for a moment before stepping back with a watery smile that looked so wrong on his pretty face.

“I think you’re a good guy, Zeke. Underneath your cocky, take-no-prisoners facade is a compassionate and kind man. I’m glad we became friends, and I—I wish you happiness. Real happiness.” He stood on his toes to kiss my cheek and then stopped before turning away. “I love you.”

In a daze, I watched him walk toward Fifty-Ninth and Eighth Avenue. I couldn’t speak. The lump in my throat rendered me mute, and my feet were stuck in place. If he loved me, why was he leaving me? Did he mean he loved me as a friend? I didn’t want to be his friend. I wanted to be his everything. Didn’t he understand?

This wasn’t what I’d planned either. Benny was never supposed to mean anything to me. He was my passive-aggressive means of dealing with a meddling parent who drove me insane with his maddening compulsion to rewrite history. Benny was supposed to be my diversion, not my lover. Not even my friend. Not the one person I trusted, admired, and wished like fuck I was worthy of calling mine. I stared unseeing toward the glare of the city lights and slowly let the familiar urban noises seep under my skin and wash over me like a wave I hoped would dilute the bitter taste of defeat.

THE WEEKEND
passed in a blur. I spent most of it lying on my sofa with the blinds pulled, staring blankly at my flat screen. I think I watched football, but I couldn’t say what teams played, or if I cared. I tried to keep my gaze on the action so I wouldn’t drive myself crazy by staring at my cell. I’d hoped Benny would return one of the twenty or more messages I’d left since Friday night. So far, nothing.

By Sunday evening, I was a grungy mess. I sat up slowly and peered down at the old college T-shirt I’d been wearing for two days straight with boxers. My usually well-trimmed beard was downright grizzly, and when my stomach growled, I realized I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had anything besides coffee. I picked up my phone intending to give it a casual glance before scrounging my fridge for food. There was a slew of texts from Carter, my brothers, and my dad, but none from Benny. I scanned the last five from Abe and felt… ashamed. God, I was a dick.

Don’t forget dinner at 5. Bring wine.

It’s now 5:30. Where r u?

It’s 6. We’re eating now. R u coming?

U r an ass. Could u at least call????

R u ok? Now we’re worried.

Zeke?

I punched in his number and winced when he picked up immediately. “Goddamn you, you fucking asshole! You better be calling from the fucking hospital!”

“I’m sorry.”

“What’s wrong?”

His shift in tone from irate to concerned was disconcerting. I stared at my cell and then back at the television.

“I’m….”

“You sick?”

“Yeah.”

“Is Benny there? I’m surprised he didn’t call. Put him on the pho—”

“He’s gone.” Something in my voice must have given me away. I was grateful for the silence on the line. It gave me a chance to swallow around the tears threatening to choke the life out of me.

“You okay?”

I took a deep breath and shook my head. “No.”

This was where I usually threw in a half-assed joke or something offensive to get my well-meaning brother off my case. Maybe even assure him Benny and I were never really
together
. Or maybe suggest it had been my idea all along. But the lies wouldn’t come. There was too much truth in my current state to ignore that I was a fucking mess. I was a grown man sitting in his cold luxury penthouse alone in the dark, hiding from the real world until it righted itself. This wasn’t me.

I was a take-charge guy. Hope was not a strategy. Nothing fixed itself, and those who relied on the kindness of others were more often than not setting themselves up for disappointment.

But I didn’t have an answer for this problem. I didn’t know how to fix this agonizing empty feeling inside of me. I missed him like crazy. I missed the sound of his soft breathing next to me in bed. I missed his nonstop talking from the moment his eyes opened, and the way he’d stop every so often to give me that signature head-to-toe once-over to let me know he wasn’t putting up with any bullshit. I missed my lover, but most of all, I missed my friend. It was two measly days, but it was much too long.

“Want me to come over?” I started at the sound of Abe’s voice but quickly refocused.

“No. Thank you.”

“All right,” Abe said with a sigh. “Let me know if you need anything, little brother.”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t sound fine. You sound like shit. Go get your man back, Zeke.”

I scoffed. “Thanks. I’ll work on that.”

“Good. Heads up… he’s working Dad’s shift again tomorrow morning at Bowery. You’re welcome.”

IT WAS
pitch-dark at four thirty in the morning. I was used to the early hour. The darkness didn’t bother me. I tried to convince myself today was like any other Monday, but the fact I woke up alone again well before the alarm rang indicated it wasn’t and it was time for me to fucking do something about it. If I showered, shaved, and got dressed now, I could be at Bowery Bagels before it opened, fix this mess with Benny, and be at my desk before six. I didn’t know what to say exactly, but it seemed like a decent start.

THE KITCHEN
staff usually arrived first, but Benny had been opening the store with a helper on Mondays for a few months now. My plan was loose, but I figured I’d have some time alone with him before the doors opened. I checked my watch as I slammed my car door. The sun hadn’t even begun to think about rising, and the streets were mostly deserted. I glanced at the flower stall halfway up the block. It wasn’t open yet. Too bad. I had zero experience with wooing a guy back. Roses probably would have helped.

I knocked on the back door and took a cautious glance around me out of habit. This was a decent neighborhood, but I knew better than to let my guard down in any dark alley in New York City. Especially when I was a lame duck standing on a stoop waiting for someone to answer a door. I tried again and was rewarded a moment later when the door cracked open.

“Filipe?”