Better Than Good (22 page)

“Yeah. My head wasn’t in the right place. I’m ready now, though.”

“Cool.” They looked sincere. The relief was intense.

“Thanks, you guys. This means a lot to me.”

“Yeah, yeah. Stop being such a dick, though, would you? Get your man back and be normal again. That’s all we’re asking. Oh… and Matt?”

“Hmm?”

“Bring us another round?” Dave held up his empty beer bottle.

I was a lucky guy, I thought to myself. My friends were solid guys. I was more than a little relieved they were so cool with everything. I gave them a wide smile of appreciation, then flipped Dave the bird before heading to the fridge for more beer.

I
HAD
played some gigs with my guitar buddy, Sam, over the last couple of Saturdays since Aaron had called us quits. It was something to do that I enjoyed, and it kept me from going bananas. Plus, it was part of my plan. I was just awaiting Peter’s confirmation that Jay was going to help.

One Saturday afternoon, a couple weeks after I’d met up with Peter, I received a call from a John Reynolds. I had no idea who the hell it was, but I took the call, thinking it had something to do with the bar we were scheduled to play at that evening.

“Hi, is this Matt?” The voice had a soft Southern lilt and was familiar, but I couldn’t place it right away.

“Yes. Who’s this?”

“It’s Jay, Matt. Can you talk?”

Fuck yes. Of course I could talk. My heart was beating out of my chest all of a sudden. Finally! Here was the guy I needed to win over to get to Aaron.

“Yes, of course. How are you?” I replied with more calm than I felt.

“I’m fine. Look, I know you talked to Peter about me maybe smoothin’ the way with Aaron. I’m being honest when I say I didn’t want anything to do with it. I told my man that.”

My heart sunk. Why was he calling me, then? To tell me to back off?

“So you won’t talk to him?”

“I talk to him all the time! I didn’t want anything to do with you and Aaron getting together in whatever capacity you were together as… boyfriends, fuck buddies… whatever, for one reason only. He’s my best friend, and I don’t want him hurt.”

“Okay, but?” There was something he wasn’t saying or was just taking a long time to say. I needed him to fucking spit it out.

“I changed my mind.”

“That’s good.” I let out a breath I was aware I’d been holding. “Can I ask what made you change your mind?”

“He’s been a tragic mess for the past few weeks. Totally sad and depressed. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you, that is so not Aaron. Aaron doesn’t do sad. If he does, because I suppose we all have our moments, it never lasts long with him. I hope you aren’t upset, but he told me about your declaration of love. For what it’s worth, whether it’s love or not, Aaron needs to talk to you. I don’t want him walking away because he’s afraid. If it’s love or even the idea that it could be love… well, it is scary. Love is scary. And it’s a fucking leap. Excuse my French. So, yes, I will aid and abet. However, I have something to say, and I will say this only one time. You listenin’?”

“Yes?”

“You seem like a genuine guy, and I do like you, Matt. Peter likes you too, and he’s much pickier than me. But here’s the deal… you hurt him and I will kick your ass. Clear? I’m not some prissy faggot. Don’t get on my bad side. Don’t mess with him if your heart isn’t in the right place.”

Jay’s voice had gone steely with resolve. I knew he was serious, which I found I appreciated. Aaron was fortunate to have a loyal friend like Jay. Even if he had just threatened me with bodily harm.

“I got it. Jay, thank you. I really miss him. I want to—”

“Yeah, yeah. You don’t have to give me details… Aaron will either way. Just make him happy. Please? I think he feels all those things about you too. He’s afraid. Fix this, Matt.”

“I will, Jay. I will.”

We discussed putting my plan into action. Jay reminded me how stubborn Aaron could be and that he almost needed to be convinced the idea was his all along. I wasn’t sure how he would react. I was scared he’d walk away and be more pissed than ever, but I had to do something. My greatest fear was that Aaron would eventually convince himself we really were no good for each other. I might not get another chance.

S
AM
and I were scheduled to play at a small bar in Georgetown called the Whistler later that same evening. Sam was a regular there, playing once a month, which meant he had a modest but loyal fan base. The audience there was a mellow collegiate one, and usually included a few younger teachers. Sam was the guy they were coming to see. I just played a few songs with him, or if he needed a break entirely, I did a couple on my own. Tonight I needed to do one on my own. And most importantly, I needed to time it correctly.

Sam and I went on stage together at 10:00 p.m. and performed a few songs. I took a break, which allowed Sam to show off for his fans, take requests, and do his mini rock star thing. I slipped off to a darkened section of the bar closest to the stage. I could grab a much-needed alcoholic beverage to calm my growing nerves, be close to the stage, and keep an eye on the door all at the same time from this prime location. My hands were a little shaky as I sipped on a vodka tonic. I was fine while I was playing, but the waiting was making me a wreck.

I spotted Aaron the minute he walked through the door. His gorgeous hair was a touch longer than when I’d last run my fingers through it. It swept into his eyes as he stepped into the bar and took in his surroundings. He was dressed for a night out in tight black jeans and a tight V-neck black T-shirt. Understated but hot. I noticed a few women and more than a couple men check him out. I wished I were at his side with the right to put a possessive arm around his waist. I wanted him to belong to me and for everyone to know it.

Jay and Peter were with him. They stood so much taller than him that it was hard not to notice them hovering over him protectively. And yes, they looked amazing too. Both men were wearing form-fitted dress shirts and designer jeans. Jay’s jeans were faded, with strategically placed holes drawing the eye to… well, never mind. He looked sexy as hell. They were a strikingly handsome threesome.

I took a deep breath, tipped back the last of my vodka, and signaled to Sam. I was as ready as I’d ever be.

“Thank you, all! My buddy Matt is going to take over for a minute here. Matt, my man, take it away….”

The bar erupted in applause for Sam’s performance and as a welcome for me. It was noisy, but somehow for me, at that moment, it was silent. It was like the night I first met Aaron at Club Indigo. The dance music had practically been vibrating through my body, but I had never been more aware of an undercurrent ripe with possibilities in the silence underneath the cacophony. The same soul-stopping awareness overcame me as I stepped up to the microphone to thank Sam and the audience. The difference was that I had to make my voice heard to one person and one person only underneath the clinking of glasses, the murmurs of drunken patrons, and the strings of my own guitar. I had to let Aaron know this song was meant for him alone.

I strummed a couple of chords and spoke clearly into the microphone, looking directly at Aaron. It was difficult to see him clearly in the darkened bar, but he looked agitated. I saw his expressive hands grasp on to Jay’s arm almost as though he needed to be anchored. I wasn’t sure what Peter or Jay had said to him to get him to come tonight, but Aaron certainly looked surprised to see me with a guitar in my hand in front of a modest audience. I couldn’t worry about that now. He was here and that was all that mattered. I couldn’t fuck this up.

“This song is one of my favorites. I can’t always say the words I want to say or should say. So I’ll say it in a song. This is for Aaron.”

I cleared my throat and began the intro chords to Elton John’s “Your Song.” This would mean something to him. He would understand me when I sang.

My voice cracked at the line “yours are the sweetest eyes I’ve ever seen,” but otherwise I made it through. I sang to him, willing him to understand the simplest message that just being with him was special, and I wanted him to be mine.

I strummed the song’s final notes, and the crowd applauded wildly. I looked directly at Aaron, whose expression was difficult to see from the makeshift stage, and then stepped back to the microphone before Sam came to take over again. The song was over, but I had one last thing to say.

“Thank you. I love you, Aaron.”

Aaron visibly jolted at the words and made a beeline for the exit. I hurriedly set my guitar on the stand nearest me and ran after him. People turned to see what the fuss was, but thankfully Sam had started a new set with a much livelier song than the one I’d left them with. They’d forget about me dodging tables and chairs to get to a fleeing audience member in no time.

I found him outside, leaning against the cool brick of the building’s façade, looking breathless and upset. He bit his gloss-covered lip and closed his eyes when he heard me call his name.

“Aaron! I—”

Suddenly he was in my arms. He flung his body at me and I caught him, holding on as tightly as possible. I swayed him side to side, murmuring sweet nothings in his ear. I kissed his cheek, his neck, his jaw, his ears and eyes. I was a like a blind man who could see again. A drowning man who’d found safety on familiar shore at long last. Aaron gently pushed me back a step to look in my eyes. His own were wet with unshed tears, but there was a hopeful gaze there also. I’m not sure what he saw in mine, but I hoped he could see I meant every word I’d said. We stared a moment longer, and then our lips locked in a passionate kiss. Our tongues danced in a mating ritual of their own, tasting and licking and becoming one after a long absence.

Someone let out a wolf whistle on the sidewalk. I raised my right thumb in agreement, making Aaron break the kiss with a laugh.

“Idiot,” he chided me with the sweetest expression. I wanted to know what he was trying to say with his eyes. We probably needed to sit down and have a real conversation, exploring with words what the meaning of all this was.

But not now. Now, I just wanted him. I kissed him again on his swollen lips and traced over the bottom one with my thumb.

“Baby, I want you. I’ve missed you… so much. Please. Come home with me?”

“With you? To your place? Don’t you have roommates? We can go to mine. I… fuck, Matty. I….” His eyes pooled over and he sobbed in my arms. I held him tightly, shushing him and kissing his hair while I finally ran my fingers through it.

“My place is closer. Just a couple blocks away. I told my roommates about you. They know. Besides, it’s eleven o’clock on a Saturday night. They won’t be home anyway. Come on.”

“Don’t you need your guitar? I should tell Jay and Peter.” He was softly crying in between words.

“Baby, don’t cry. I’ll get my guitar from Sam later. And don’t worry about Jay and Peter. They’ll know you’re with me. Now come.”

I pulled him along, shielding him in the cradle of my right arm as I led the way to my car.

The ride was silent and thankfully short.

“We’re here. I can’t find a closer parking spot.”

Aaron didn’t respond or look at me. I hoped he wasn’t having second thoughts. I got out of the car and raced over to his side to open his door. He seemed surprised, but pleasantly so, at my chivalrous gesture.
Note to self: be more chivalrous
. I received the smile I’d been waiting for and felt my heart skip a beat. I led him up the street toward my building. I had no idea if Dave or Curt would be home. I was winging it when I told Aaron they wouldn’t be. I hadn’t thought quite that far ahead.

I started to feel a little panicky when I realized the place would probably be a mess. I’d straightened up a bit before I left because I needed to keep occupied, but even so, Aaron was a neat freak. I hoped Dave and Curt hadn’t left beer bottles or other paraphernalia lying around.
Please be clean, please be clean
. I fiddled with the keys nervously as we stood at my door. Aaron gave me a shy, reassuring grin and it was all good again.

No one was home, thank God. I switched on the dimmest light possible and was relieved to find the place didn’t look too shabby. Nowhere near as nice as Aaron’s, but not bad.

“Want something to drink?” I offered, grabbing a couple water bottles.

“No, I’m good.” He turned in a slow circle, taking in our small bachelor pad. “So, I finally see where Matt Sullivan lives.”

“Um, yeah. It’s not as nice as your place, but it’s close to school and we can all afford it, so… it works.” I took a swig from my water bottle, suddenly feeling nervous again.

“It’s cool, Matt. No one home?”

“No, it doesn’t look like it. Just so you know, I told them about us. About you. They want to meet you.”

His face was a picture of astonishment. I gave a small laugh.

“Come on. My room is this way.” I led him down the hall.

My bedroom was a decent size. Dave had commandeered the master bedroom, agreeing to pay more each month for the honor. Curt’s and my rooms were roughly the same layout, and we shared a bathroom. Thankfully, Curt was relatively clean, so our arrangement had worked well. My bed was a queen-size and was pushed up against the window wall to make space for my desk. A dresser stood next to the desk with just a smidge of space left over for a small bookshelf and a nightstand next to the bed. I hung my two prize guitars on the wall and stored the cases in my closet. It was a little cramped, and nothing matched except the comforter cover and the pillows. And that was only because my mom had picked them out for me. I couldn’t help but wonder what it looked like to Aaron. Student chic?

“So, this is it…,” I said awkwardly, shoving my hands in my pockets.

“You have a lot of stuff.” Aaron was looking at my law books and the clutter on my desk. “Looks important too.”

He spotted a picture on my desk and picked it up for a closer look.

“Who are these people?”

“My family. That’s my mom and dad, my brother Sean, my sister Shelly, and my younger twin sisters, Samantha and Sarah. I think that was taken at Christmas. I don’t know. My mom snuck it in my bag as I was leaving. She’s always assuming I’m a little homesick.” I was babbling.
Shut up, Matt.
I could feel my face redden. I was hoping to get him in my bed, not bore him with family photos.