A Kind of Truth (14 page)

“Fine. I’m going, I’m going. I’ll send over a bottle of Chianti and bread for you boys pronto. Enjoy!” Benny flashed a wide smile and turned with a graceful pivot.

I chuckled when Will covered his face with the menu. I tapped on the worn plastic cover until he lowered it. “Sorry. Benny’s kind of… fabulous.”

“I like him. He thinks I’m gorgeous.” I waggled my eyebrows, then sat back when our waitress came by with water and a bottle of wine. We listened politely to the specials, nodding in faux interest until she left us alone.

I stared at Will over the rim of my wineglass and nudged his knee under the table. The cozy setup for two tucked in the corner next to the window gave the illusion of privacy and, yes, romance. Add Dean Martin singing “Volare” in the background over the din of conversation and the night had turned into something almost magical. A far cry from sharing popcorn and watching cartoons.

“Cheers.”

I clinked my glass against his and took a sip, keeping my gaze on him. I hoped to be treated to more of this sexy, confident side of Will. The guy who yanked me from the movie theater, then commandeered a prime table at a popular restaurant on a Friday night reminded me of his alter ego in a pink dress, hailing a cab with attitude. I saw glimpses of him behind a guitar but never this strong.

Will took a small sip of wine and smiled as he set his glass down. “The chicken parmesan is great if you’re tired of pizza and pasta.”

“I’ll keep it in mind. How did we get here?” I furrowed my brow and reached for the bread the waitress placed at my elbow. “One minute I’m throwing popcorn at everyone watching cartoons and the next, I’m sitting in an Italian bistro sipping Chianti. Life is weird.”

Will chuckled appreciatively. “It is. This seemed like a better option. I’m just glad it worked out. I was with Benny at the theater, and he mentioned he was filling in for his cousin here tonight, so… I took a chance.”

“I’m glad you did. How do you know him?”

“We’ve been friends since our freshman year, and now we intern together. Benny’s in production and set design. He’s very talented. He designs costumes and sews like a pro, but today they asked us to help the makeup artist’s assistant.” He gave a short laugh before continuing. “I can’t complain. It’s better than being sent to get coffee for the crew. Again. Anyway, it’s why I was running late tonight. I didn’t have a chance to go home and clean up first.”

He twisted the stem of his glass between his fingers as he lowered his head slightly and contemplated me. I wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but I decided not to guess. Will was throwing me off my game tonight. I was in danger of falling far behind if I didn’t start asking questions.

“So that’s why you’re wearing makeup?”

He grinned. “Yeah. Benny did mine before they put us to work doing some of the chorus line. It was fun. A little stressful but fun.”

“You look good.” Will eyed me warily as he picked up his glass. “I mean it.”

“Thanks.”

“I can’t see your freckles, which is a bummer. But your eyes look bigger. More golden. You look… interesting. Different.”

Will smiled, then looked up with a start when our waitress came to take our orders. I was hungry but not in the mood to study the extensive menu. I ordered spaghetti and meatballs, thinking it was probably a safe bet.

“Spaghetti?” Will mocked.

“What’s wrong with spaghetti?”

“Nothing at all. I figured you’d order something more… exciting.”

“I get enough excitement. I don’t need exciting food. You can give me a bite of yours if you feel sorry for me, though.”

“Deal.” Will flashed one of those crazy, radiant smiles that made me wonder what the hell we’d been talking about.

I coughed nervously and reached for my water. Fuck, I was being weird. I struggled to get my bearings and think of a topic that wouldn’t make me blush like a teenage girl.

“So your friend works here too?” Lame.

Thankfully Will didn’t seem to think so. He inclined his head and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “His family owns Johnny’s. Believe it or not, this place has been here for a hundred years. I think his great-uncle runs it now. He told me it’s tradition for everyone in the family to work here in some capacity in their lifetime. He’s only helping out tonight, but he’s done everything from wash dishes to wait tables.”

“The food business is good character-building work. At least that’s what I tell myself when I drag my ass out of bed to get to the bagel shop by five thirty fucking a.m. After my first sip of George’s crappy coffee, I think one day when I’m standing onstage accepting my tenth Grammy award, I’ll look back on this time in my life and be grateful it taught me that hard work and discipline matter.” I gave a half laugh. “One day I won’t be cold all the fucking time, and I won’t sweat the cost of taking a taxi when the thought of riding the subway sounds unappealing.”

“You’re gonna live the high life, eh?”

I grinned and raised my wineglass. “Yep! I don’t really think about money or fame when I’m doing what I love. It’s only when I’m doing tedious things that I’m reminded there is a method to my madness.”

“So you aren’t just crazy?”

“All artists are a little crazy, Will. Even you. Tell me something wild and crazy I’d never guess about you.”

Will frowned and shook his head. “I’m not wild. At all.”

“You’re wearing makeup, babe. That makes you at least a little wild,” I astutely observed.

He cocked his head thoughtfully and smiled ruefully. “I s’pose you’re right. Maybe the craziest thing about me is that occasionally I like it.”

“You like wearing makeup?”

“Yes… and other things.”

Our salads were delivered before I could ask any more questions. Once we were alone again, I didn’t know where to begin.

“Other things?”

“Yeah.” He took a bite of his salad and glanced out the window as though he hadn’t just casually dropped a kinky conversation grenade. I let my fork clatter noisily on my plate and stared at him until he looked my way. “What?”

“You can’t tell me things like that and not….” I waved my hand in the air expressively before deciding to just speak plainly. “Tell me everything. Every little kink. Let’s get this out in the open.”

“It’s not really kinky. Just… different.”

“My imagination runs at full speed 24/7, Will. I’m having this flashback to you wearing fishnet stockings, and when I imagine seeing your bare ass through that mesh…. Fuck! I’m getting hard right now. Let’s get the torture over with so I can process this rationally. In other words, I’d like my brain to do the thinking here. Not my dick.”

Will burst into laughter. I scowled and resumed stabbing my lettuce, if only to give my hands something to do. He bumped my knee under the table and let his rest against mine as he observed me. He dabbed at the corner of his mouth with his napkin, then leaned forward with a sigh.

“When I was a kid, I used to sneak into my mom’s closet and try on her high heels. She had an outstanding collection, and there was something about wearing them, even for a few minutes, that made me feel….”

“Pretty?” I ventured.

“Maybe, but more like… adventurous. Whimsical. Something I’d have a hard time explaining if I got caught. The combination of doing something relatively harmless that I knew would be considered mischievous was tantalizing. I started with her heels and ventured to her makeup. But makeup was trickier because it wasn’t easy to remove quickly. I could only do it when my parents were out of town and my sister was preoccupied. She was always a tattletale.”

“So you’re saying wearing makeup and heels appealed to your sense of general mischief. Like a peaceful ‘fuck you’ to conformity?”

Will chuckled. “Maybe. My mom never caught me. I used to buy clothes and shoes from consignment shops a few towns away with money I made teaching guitar and piano when I was a teenager. Freaky, huh?”

I shook my head with a wry grin. “I wouldn’t say freaky, just different. But not in a bad way. Did you wish you were a girl? Is that why—”

“No, that isn’t it. I’ve probably known I was gay since I was eleven. I did my best to not say or do anything to give myself away, but denying it didn’t seem to change the fact every crush I had was on a boy. My palms used to sweat like crazy when Felix Calder stood next to me on the drum line. He was tall, dark, and dreamy.”

“Yeah, yeah. Keep going,” I said irritably.

Will chuckled. “Well, there’s nothing much to tell. The bottom line isn’t that I wished I was female. It was more about wanting to be someone else for a while. Like an actor in a play. I didn’t have to be William Sanders, the skinny geek with glasses. I could be someone special.”

“Didn’t you feel special for your talent?”

He pursed his lips thoughtfully. “No. Just different. As silly as it seems, being in a disguise, even a flimsy one like a little makeup, is freeing every once in a while. I like it.”

“I do too. It’s sexy. And now we better move on to other topics before I spontaneously combust over here.”

Will gave me a mischievous smile just as the server arrived with our dinners. “So… how’d you like the movie?” he teased, picking up his fork.

“Low blow, Will.”

“Okay. How about food preferences? Other than bagels… what’s your favorite go-to snack or meal?”

“It used to be popcorn, but I ruined that tonight too,” I said with a dramatic sigh. I waited for Will’s laughter to subside before adding, “Now I think spaghetti is my favorite.”

The silly remark was meant to be flippant, but as we stared at each other over the candlelight with Frank Sinatra singing New York’s praises in the background, it didn’t sound like the throwaway line I intended. It sounded like something an infatuated adolescent would say to his crush.

I had a flashback to Sunday morning at Will’s when I’d told him to follow my lead, like my three extra years on the planet gave me greater wisdom. What a joke. I was no expert. We were equals. I’d never felt a rush of heat and longing from just holding hands with someone. I’d never been content to sit and talk for hours asking “get to know you” questions that weren’t centered around music. As the spaghetti conversation morphed into other Italian foods and restaurants we’d tried in the city, I realized I was as inexperienced as Will. I felt as though I was fumbling in the dark with a map I couldn’t see.

WE TOOK
the subway back to the East Village after dinner. The temperature had dropped another few degrees, making even a short train ride feel like a nice break from the frigid air. We sat side by side on the plastic bench with our thighs glued as we traded stories about childhood pets. Well, I did most of the talking, but Will seemed amused, so I embellished the tale of Lucy the lazy Labrador who was a well-known sneak-attack food stealer.

“I always got blamed, but it was usually Lucy’s fault,” I grumbled, adjusting my beanie as a freezing wind hit us when we emerged onto Houston. “And I’m walking you home. No arguing.”

“I’m sure it was.”

“What?”

“Lucy’s fault.”

“Didn’t you hear what I said?”

“You’re walking me home.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re coming inside too, right?”

When we stopped at the corner to wait for the light, I gave him a lopsided smile and kissed his cold lips. “Yeah.”

THE THREE-BLOCK
walk to Will’s place seemed to take forever. By unspoken agreement we made sure some body part was in constant contact. Shoulders, arms, and gloved fingers brushed as we speed-walked in an effort to ward off the chill and finally reach our destination. The minute we stepped into the lobby of his building, I gave up all pretense of playing it cool. I was horny as hell and had been for hours. I pulled Will against me and crashed my mouth over his. I did my best to soften the connection so it was more like a kiss than an assault, but when he groaned and threw his arms around my neck, my tenuous hold slipped. I plunged my tongue in his mouth as I held his head steady. My cock throbbed in my jeans, begging for release. I wanted everything all at once. I kept a steady chant in my brain, reminding myself not to move too fast or take more than he was ready to give. But it was really fucking hard.

“Upstairs,” Will whispered, pulling me toward the narrow staircase.

We climbed the stairs to the third floor hand in hand. When we reached the landing, I wrapped my arms around him from behind and molded my chest to his back. He turned his head sideways to meet my mouth as I alternately bit and kissed his neck, jaw, and finally his lips. He twisted in my hold and sealed his lips over mine. We made out like a couple of teenagers until we were both gasping for air.

“I’ll um… open the door,” he panted.

I adjusted my cock and nodded, hoping he’d hurry. I was desperate to be naked and horizontal. I caged him between my arms and tilted my hips against him, making sure he could feel how hard I was through the layers of clothing between us. My intent was to give him a glimpse of what we could be doing with no clothes and hopefully spur him into action. But when he spun to face me and hooked his right leg around my left and grabbed my ass, everything went a little blurry. I heard a pained-sounding growl and belatedly realized it was me. The need to consume and devour threatened to overtake reason. I had to fucking pull it together. I pushed away from the door and studied Will’s swollen lips and beautiful eyes, looking for a trace of caution or maybe even fear. There was none. He was as strung out as me. I leaned forward and licked his bottom lip, then bit it.

“Inside,” I said in a low, gravelly tone.

Will nodded and turned to give the sticky lock his full attention.

The second the door was closed behind us, he was on me like an octopus. His arms snaked around my neck, his chest was fused to mine, and one of his legs was hiked around my ass. I kissed his jaw and his neck and gently untangled us.

“Slow down, baby,” I whispered, licking a corner of his mouth. “We have plenty of time.”

Will blinked and nodded furiously. He turned on the overhead light, shrugged off his jacket, and threw his hat somewhere on the other side of the room. Then he started working on the buttons on his shirt. I was caught between amusement at his show of exuberance and sheer lust. I didn’t want to start putting up roadblocks when it was easy to tell this was the first time he’d really felt free to do and be who he was… an extraordinary, sexy gay man eager to test his power. On the other hand, I also knew I had to do something to keep us from careening toward an early finish line. With every piece of clothing he tossed carelessly aside and every inch of skin he revealed, I was in serious danger of losing the ability to speak.