A Kind of Romance (19 page)

“Don’t come. Drop me off and go visit your dad instead.”

I rolled my eyes and honked at the idiot who cut in front of me. “Hey. I said I’m going, so I’m going. Don’t get dramatic on me.”

“Hmph. If you’re going to be a believable boyfriend, we better set some ground rules.”

“Now wait a sec—”

“Number one, don’t flirt with anyone but me. Number two, be nice. Everyone will be on their best behavior, so it shouldn’t be a problem. And number three… thank you. If you’re miserable, I won’t be offended if you leave.”

My forehead creased in confusion. “That makes no sense. First you tell me to behave myself, then you say I can go if I’m not having fun. What’s going through your head, Ben?”

He let out a long sigh and stretched his legs in front of him. “I don’t want you to feel trapped. I feel like I tricked you into this, and my conscience is insisting I acknowledge it.”

“I’m not easily tricked. I’m going because I like you. You’re a nice guy who gives a great blowjob, and I’m happy to hang out with—ow!” I rubbed my right bicep with my left hand and was immediately told to keep both hands on the wheel.

“I’m happy to hang out with you too. In true Italian fashion, you can expect a long ceremony followed by a kickass party.”

“Sounds okay by me. But I have one rule too… I’m not dancing.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t dance, and that’s non-negotiable.”

“You’ll be lonely, then. I’m a dancing fool,” he singsonged.

“I’ll manage. How many times will they play ‘Volare’?” I asked in a deadpan voice.

Benny threw his head back and laughed.

“More than once,” he assured me with a mischievous grin that made my heart flip in my chest. I should have been alarmed, but once again, I could only say this felt… right.

MY FAMILY
was big on tradition. I was raised in a religious Jewish household. I’d attended my fair share of large weddings, bar mitzvahs, and bat mitzvahs, and probably someone else’s too. I’d also been to numerous Christian weddings and even a few with long Catholic Masses. But I’d never been to one quite like this. First of all, there had to be over three hundred people packed like well-dressed sardines into the cavernous church. Second, there were easily twenty bridesmaids and as many groomsmen. Just watching the procession walk down the aisle took forever.

The bride, Benny’s cousin Angie, was a tiny, pretty young woman with long, dark brown hair whose fairy-tale gown had to outweigh her by at least ten pounds. It was encrusted with sequins and pearls and had an exaggerated long train I would have thought was out of style. But what did I know? The groom was a heavyset, smallish man whose jet-black hair matched the sheen on his tuxedo. He looked nervous as hell. But happy.

I might have enjoyed the rare opportunity to attend a function with a degree of separation I didn’t usually have, but having Benny pressed against my side was a game changer. I was ultra-aware of him. The way he smelled, sighed, sniffled, and occasionally chuckled stirred something inside me I frankly didn’t understand. After forty-five minutes, the ceremony was beginning to feel like the longest I’d ever sat through.

“You okay?” he whispered during one of the numerous readings.

I smiled vaguely and set my hand on his knee without thinking. I noticed the woman sitting on my other side do a double take. I wasn’t overly concerned with what other people thought anymore. Benny was the only one in this scenario whose opinion mattered. And since we were boyfriends for the day, I assumed he wouldn’t mind the occasional harmless display. He gave me a sideways look I couldn’t read, then covered my hand for a second and pushed me away.

My brow creased in irritation. My best intention to do things his way went sideways. Now I was consumed. I had to touch him. As the priest droned on about love, honor, and fidelity, the only thing on my mind was getting closer to the dark-haired beauty next to me. I set my hand back on his knee. He pushed it aside. I waited a minute and tried again. This time he dug his nails into my hand before pushing me away again. I scowled and shook my wounded hand dramatically.

“That hurt,” I whispered.

“I will hurt you for real if you touch me again,” he hissed. “We’re in church. Behave!”

I kept my gaze forward. I wasn’t doing anything lascivious or crude. It wasn’t like I’d put my hand on his junk and groped him in front of God and all three hundred Ruggieris. I sighed and decided to concentrate on the ceremony. The happy couple at the front of the church was holding hands now and exchanging loving glances as the priest read ancient text with a solemnity that reminded me of a wizard conjuring a spell. They looked good together. Sweet.

I wondered if I wanted that someday. I loved that gay marriage was legal now, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever head down the aisle myself. I’d had to do some serious one-eighties in my life. I’d gone from hiding who I was, and sometimes outright lying about my sexuality, to slowly accepting I couldn’t change myself or how I felt. Eventually I got to the point where I
wouldn’t
change it for anything. I liked being gay. I wasn’t the type to march in a Pride parade, but I was an out and proud gay man. It took a very long time to get here, but I was grateful I had.

I set my hand over Benny’s, just as the newlywed couple kissed and the congregation cheered. I waited a beat, thinking any second he’d let me have it. He didn’t. This time Benny turned his palm and laced his fingers through mine. My pulse went through the roof at the innocent contact. I assumed he’d try to claw me again for my audacity, not hold my hand like a lover. I didn’t know what I supposed to do now. So I just held on.

I MET
more Ruggieris at the reception following the ceremony than I’d ever remember. Benny wasn’t kidding when he said he came from a big family. I got the impression they all saw one another frequently so there was no need to recap recent life events. Conversation centered around everyday life and the next big family party. They talked over each other with an easy rhythm that frankly reminded me of my own family. Everyone was very friendly, but there was no mistaking this was a closed group. The only way to gain entry was through marriage. Since that was unlikely to happen, I pasted a smile on my face and made an effort to just enjoy the day.

The only family members I was really curious about were his mother and grandmother. They were the ones he talked about most often. Benny introduced them to me at the reception.

His mother, Gaia, was a pretty, petite woman in her late forties. Benny resembled her in a way. They had the same dark hair, golden skin, and pointed chin. But there were enough differences to make me think he might look more like his father. I mentioned it in passing as he led me to meet his grandmother at the opposite side of the opulent ballroom.

“I think I do, but don’t say it out loud. His name isn’t spoken. Ever.”

I chuckled at his serious tone. “Why? Is he in the mafia or something?”

“I have no idea. I told you I haven’t seen him since I was a kid.” He stopped abruptly to give me a serious look. “This isn’t his family. This is my mother’s. We are Ruggieris. When they divorced, we both took her maiden name. When she married asshole number two, she changed her name again, but I kept mine. In this family, your name is everything. She’ll always belong because she’s Nonna’s daughter. All I have is my name.”

I didn’t expect his impassioned speech, nor did I understand it. “You’re your mother’s son. How does—?”

“Yes, but she’s twice divorced and… I’m gay. We’re the odd ones out here. They love us, but we don’t exactly fit, you know? It’s best to be polite and blend in as best we can.”

“Which is why you’re wearing a purple suit,” I observed sarcastically.

Benny smirked and pulled at my sleeve. “Some things can’t be helped. Come meet Nonna.”

LATER IN
the evening, I noticed inquisitive glances when we stood next to each other during the toasts. I even thought I’d overheard a snide comment about Benny and the straight guy who they weren’t sure was even Italian. I thought it was kind of funny. They weren’t hostile by any means, but they were definitely curious. And though we may not actually
be
a couple, we no doubt appeared to be “together.” I probably fed their interest. I couldn’t help touching him and standing closer than normal. Unlike earlier at the church, he didn’t seem to mind my attentiveness at the reception.

However, the moment the deejay got started, Benny was gone. I backed away from the dance floor and made idle conversation with various cousins. After the second tarantella, I checked the time. This party looked like it could go on all night. I gazed toward the action under the tulle canopy on the dance floor and nodded at something Benny’s cousin Frank was saying. He was a muscled, macho type in his early thirties with slicked-back, dark hair and a cocky attitude. The thick, gold chain and haze of cologne under his perfectly pressed suit screamed salesman… or day trader, I mused as I sipped my martini. Frank was a self-purported stock market enthusiast who wanted to talk my ear off about investments when he heard I worked for a big Wall Street firm.

“I sold all my shares and got the fuck out. Now that stock is trading at fifty fucking bucks! I don’t get it, man. My broker was sure he was right. What’s the secret?”

“There isn’t one. All you can do is pay attention and act when your gut tells you.” I smiled when I caught a glimpse of Benny’s purplish suit in the mass of bodies jumping and spinning a few feet away.

Frank looked over his shoulder and then back at me. He shrugged and made a funny face that said a hell of a lot more than words. The rough translation was “my gay cousin is a freak” and maybe something else I wouldn’t like. When he opened his mouth again, I knew I was correct.

“Did you meet our cousin Ella? She’s the one dancing with Benny. They’re about the same age. She’s pretty
and
she’s single. Ask Benny to introduce you.” He tipped his beer back with gusto, then shook the empty bottle meaningfully before stepping aside.

I don’t know why I didn’t let it go. I’d never see Frank again. I pulled at his sleeve before he could walk away.

“Why would I want my boyfriend to introduce me to someone else? That doesn’t make much sense, Frank.”

He scoffed. “Sorry, but I don’t buy it. You don’t look or act gay at all.”

“Ah… and how do gay men look?”

Frank gave me a lopsided smirk. The condescension and ego he couldn’t hide after a few beers, even at a family wedding, seeped through in that one seemingly harmless gesture. It made me want to fucking pound him.

“Like Benny. He’s a fruit,” he said nonchalantly. “Hey, he’s family and we love him, but it’s hard to take him seriously.”

“Why is that?”

My chilly tone made him blink, but he stubbornly lifted his shoulders with a defiant dismissal that revealed comfortable ignorance. He knew what he thought he knew and wasn’t interested in learning anything else.

“He’s my kid cousin. I grew up with the guy. Benny’s a flamer who wears crazy getups to get attention. Or he colors his hair. Everyone likes him ’cause he’s wacky and over-the-top. The girls especially. Most of the guys just put up with him. But he’s family. That’s what we do.” Frank shook his head in mock despair. “What I don’t get is all that education, and he’s still workin’ at the restaurant. It makes no sense. So excuse me if I don’t fall for the ‘my new boyfriend is a high-rollin’ Wall Street stockbroker’ story. I wasn’t born yesterday,” he assured me with a cocky grin before adding, “Now, if you lisped and told me you were a hairdresser, maybe I’d believe you!”

I couldn’t help the evil smile from slowly spreading over my face. Willful stupidity was difficult to endure. For me, it was practically impossible. I took a step forward so we stood toe-to-toe, and leaned in menacingly.

“Pardon me for stating the obvious, but you don’t know shit. Your cousin is not a stereotype. He’s a man. One of the bravest I’ve met in a long time. It takes big fuckin’ balls to walk into any room knowing you’re going to stand out no matter how hard you try to not to. Me? I have a great job that pays a shitload of dough. My stress level on any given day reaches astronomical heights most sane people could not begin to fathom. But I am nowhere near as brave as Benny. All he has to do to prove it is be himself. A-fucking-mazing. I’m honored to know him. Maybe one day you’ll get your head out of your ass and realize you’re one lucky bastard to be related to someone like him.” I handed him my empty glass with a feral grin, then slapped his back before moving toward the dance floor. “Excuse me. I’m going to dance with my boyfriend.”

I looked for Benny in the press of bodies on the dance floor but had a hard time locating him at first. I slipped between the sweaty revelers in their bedraggled taffetas and silks until I reached the area directly under the ubiquitous disco ball. And there he was… eyes closed, hands in the air, shaking his ass to a Beyoncé song. I smiled at the blissed-out expression on his lovely face. He was obviously in his element, grooving to the music while surrounded by a gaggle of young women who looked extraordinarily pleased to be in his company. They took turns twirling around him to capture his attention as though he were a celebrity they were determined to claim they’d had the privilege of knowing.

The beat slowed after the first chorus, and Benny adjusted his moves accordingly. When he lowered his arms and spun, he made a sudden theatric stop before swaying his hips to the rhythm again. The women cheered at his antics, whooping his name and clapping with glee. He took their praise in stride. He was a good dancer and he knew it. Just as I knew I wasn’t. The last place I belonged was standing in the middle of the dance floor like a misplaced wallflower. I stepped back in retreat and bumped into the cute, dark-haired cousin Frank offered to introduce me to earlier. She smiled in invitation and bopped her hip into mine.

A wave of panic hit me. I couldn’t dance. I’d only embarrass myself. And Benny by association. I didn’t know what I was thinking coming out here in the first place. I had nothing to prove to Frank or anyone here, I thought as I stealthily backed away with my hands raised in surrender. I didn’t get far.