A Kind of Truth (7 page)

“You mean you don’t want me here?” I asked with faux confusion.

“Ugh. I don’t get you. Why didn’t you stay and soak up the rock-star love all night at Karma? That girl was all over you. If you’re trying to shake the gay part of being bi, you should have stayed.”

“I know but—I couldn’t. This is harder than I thought. It might not be a mind-over-matter thing, Timmy. I don’t want to fuck anything up but—”

“Relax. Believe it or not, you’re safe in gay land.”

“For now.”

Tim shrugged. “What do you want to drink besides water?”

“I better stick to something with tequila. Surprise me.”

I checked out the clientele while Tim ordered. There was definitely something going on here. Almost everyone appeared to be wearing a costume. This was a little like Halloween meets masquerade. No masks, though. Just lots of glitz and… chains. Weird.

Tim was back with our drinks a couple minutes later. He handed mine over and clinked our glasses. “To Spiral.”

I grinned and took a healthy swig of what I thought was a margarita. I couldn’t tell anymore, but the shock to my system told me it was strong.

“By the way, Brad said it’s fetish night.”

I threw my hand over my mouth to avoid spitting my drink on the guy in front of me. I coughed and sputtered while Tim chuckled and slapped my back.

“Fetish night? This could be interesting.”

“I know. Check out the leashes.”

“Would you ever play submissive?” I asked as we watched the guy in skimpy jean shorts on a leash.

Tim chuckled. “Never say never. You?”

I let my “yeah right” expression do the talking for me.

“Why not? I can totally see you wearing leather chaps with your ass on display.”

“Have you been fantasizing about my ass, Timmy?” I leaned in to whisper in his ear and at the last second decided to torment him by licking his pierced lobe.

He pushed me away, scowling in irritation as I guffawed merrily. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“Good question. I think I—whoa!”

I did a double take as a tall, skinny guy in a blond wig walked by wearing a short pink dress, fishnet stockings, and high heels. No way. Could it really be him?

“Holy shit! I think that’s him!”

“Who?”

“Wait. I can’t tell. Hold my drink. And my coat. I’ll be back.”

I could hear Tim calling me back or asking a question, but I’d reached the level of drunkenness where everything sounded like an echo and nothing was clear. I couldn’t trust my eyes or ears, but instinctively I moved forward, pushing through the throng of men huddled around the bar and in the direction of the guy in the blond wig. When I reached a clear area in the back, he was nowhere in sight. I was about to give up and head to the bar when a huge man dressed in flowing chiffon appeared out of nowhere from behind a wall.

“Are the restrooms down there?”

“Yes, sweetie. Be careful. The stairs are steep. I almost lost the heel on my Jimmy Choos.”

I gave him a thumbs-up sign and skirted the wall to find the stairs. I carefully traversed the dark and shadowy steps, following the sound of voices to what I guessed would lead me to the bathroom. I pushed open the door and looked around. Two guys stood at a sink chatting, but there was no one else in the room. Huh. I heard a hitched breath like someone gasping for air coming from one of the stalls. I cocked my head curiously as the two men busted up laughing.

“No sex in the stalls, gentlemen,” one of them admonished before flouncing out with his friend close behind.

I stood frozen in place in the middle of the tiny restroom. Sex? Nah. That didn’t sound like sex. It sounded like someone… crying maybe. I squinted as though closing my eyes might help me hear better. Nothing.

What was I doing? I was wasting my chance. I should be upstairs checking out the odd eye candy or moving on to the next stop. Not playing detective in a creepy, dark bathroom looking for a guy dressed like a girl who kinda, sorta, maybe looked like my straitlaced guitar teacher. Note to self, no more tequila.

My reflection in the cracked mirror above the pedestal sink caught my attention like a shiny coin. I stepped forward to check myself out before turning for the door. My eyes were a little glassy, but I didn’t look half bad. Or did I? I moved in closer and stumbled forward, catching myself on the rim of the battered, white sink before I smashed my nose on the mirror. Good save. I grinned like an idiot, pleased with myself in a stupid, drunken way that wouldn’t make sense to anyone else. When the stall door opened, I turned to share my fortune with the only other occupant in the bathroom.

“Dude, that was a close call. Did you see—?”

The guy with the blond wig was standing two feet away from me. He looked at me in utter horror. I didn’t understand why he’d be so freaked out unless….

“Will? Is that you?”

His bright red lips opened in a perfectly shaped O, then closed. He shook his head violently and wrapped his arms around himself as if to ward off a sudden chill. I looked at the tiny pink dress, but when I saw the fishnet stockings again, nothing else registered. My dick swelled in my jeans, making me feel even more light-headed than I already did. I struggled to process what was going on. Was the guy in the sexy stockings really Will? And what the hell was my problem? Fishnets and heels on men were not my thing. Were they?

He swallowed hard. I watched his Adam’s apple move convulsively, but it was when he bit his lip that I knew. He did the same thing all the time when we played together. He did it when we were sitting on the park bench yesterday. It was a nervous habit. I made him nervous. But I didn’t want to. I wanted to swim above this uncertain, foggy state and reach him somehow. Reassure him.

“Hey. It’s me. Are you okay? Are you with someone or—?”

“Leave me alone.”

He rushed for the door and grabbed the handle. I stepped in front of him, holding out my hand like I might to a scared animal.

“Don’t! Don’t go. Please. It is you, right? I don’t—”

“Let me go,” he whispered. “He’s waiting for me.”

“Who? Your boyfriend? I didn’t think you had one.” I studied him carefully. I couldn’t make the puzzle pieces fit. This didn’t make sense.

“I don’t, but I have to go.”

He batted my arm out of the way and slid past me effortlessly. I hesitated for a half second before following him. When I opened the door he was gone. I glanced up the stairs in wonder, unable to process that a man wearing high heels could move so fast. Especially when I remembered the same guy practically tripping over his own feet in the park yesterday.

Dance music reverberated through my skull when I reached the top of the landing. Disco balls and strobe lights cast a familiar glow I usually loved, like a seductive veil that threatened to pull me under and allow the night to make decisions for me. I shook off the feeling and strode with purpose toward the exit, craning my neck as I moved to see if I could locate Will amongst the mob. I glanced at the bar but decided not to stop. I’d text Tim later. If I remembered.

“You stayin’ or goin’?” The bouncer manning the door gave me a suspicious once-over as I tried to focus. I couldn’t decide which way to go. I was looking through liquid lenses and nothing made sense.

“I don’t—did you see a guy wearing a blond wig? He had… um, those net-tight things and heels and pink! His dress was pink. Did you see him?”

The thick-browed, muscular bouncer nodded and gestured with his thumb. “He left with his guy. Do yourself a favor and grab a taxi, man. You’re fucked up.”

It was sound advice, but I was beyond help. I pushed my way through the plastic barricade shielding the entry from the bitter cold and stumbled out to the sidewalk. The blast of frigid air felt great. Then it didn’t. It was freezing. I shivered as I tried to acclimate. The streets weren’t as busy now, but people were still hanging out in front of the club. I glanced both ways. There was no sign of Will. I blew out a rush of air in defeat and turned back to the door just as a flash of pink caught my eye.

There he was. He was talking to an older man just beyond the line of revelers awaiting entrance. The man looked to be in his forties. He was slightly overweight, balding, and had the aura of a married man behaving badly. He was wearing pleated trousers and a long, expensive-looking cashmere coat. I skirted the people lingering near the entrance but stayed back to observe for a moment. Other than a never-ending conversation, I didn’t detect any distress until the man reached out to caress his face. Will stiffened. It wasn’t overt, but I noticed. He didn’t want that guy. Maybe he was trapped.

All common sense fled. In truth, I didn’t know what I was doing. I moved on impulse and instinct. My usual modes of transport. Add tequila and anything could happen.

“Hey, baby, is that you? I thought so but—oh shoot. Am I interrupting?” I wrapped my left arm around Will and held out my right to his oh so proper companion. “I’m Rand. Nice to meet ya.”

The guy’s eyebrows rose impressively in a look of sheer distaste. I chuckled at the affectation. It was over-the-top, and I’d reached the stage in the wee morning hours where everything off-balance struck me as hysterical. Like this douche in his designer duds giving me the stink eye. He had to be someone’s husband and dad. He didn’t look like your typical fortysomething cruising the gay nightlife with his boy toy.

“Rand—”

“You look familiar.” I put my hand on my chin as though in deep thought. “I can’t place it, but I know I’ve seen you before. Are you—?”

He turned his back to me and took Will’s hand. “My driver’s here. Get a taxi. I’ll talk to you next week. Bye, Billie.”

He kissed Will’s cheek and walked briskly toward a waiting black Escalade idling near the corner. I stood at Will’s side watching his friend’s retreating form, wondering what to say now that we were sort of alone. I gave him a curious sideways glance and started at his withering once-over. He didn’t look remotely like Will now. He emitted a no-nonsense attitude with flair. No wonder I was fooled. Will was like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Or William and Billie.

“Where’s your coat?” He flung his hand out as a yellow cab appeared out of nowhere.

“Huh? Inside. I think.”

“It’s twenty degrees out here. Go get it.”

He was right. As my adrenaline rush faded, a bitter chill settled in my bones. My teeth were chattering I was so cold. I turned to obey him but stopped in my tracks. If I left, he’d ditch me and I might actually end up convincing myself this was a dream. I was drunk and this was too improbable. I eyed him from the sidewalk while he stood near the taxi, waiting for the occupants to emerge. Once they’d paid the driver, he jumped in and closed the door. Fuck!

I sprang in front of the cab and ran to the other side just before the driver pulled into the street. I was lucky he didn’t go heavy on the gas or I would have certainly lost my right arm when I reached to open the car door. I dove inside and closed it quickly, smacking my head on the seat in front of me when the cabbie screeched to a halt again.

“You fucking moron! What the fuck? You coulda gotten killed! This taxi’s taken. Find another one, you fuckin’….”

I tuned him out and glanced over at my stunned-looking cabmate. “I’m coming with you.”

“Do you know this idiot? Is he harassin’ you?”

Will stared at me in the darkened interior, then out the window. My heart beat twice its normal rate while I waited to see if he’d literally kick me to the curb. The cold night air had a somewhat sobering effect. I was riding the last wave of a drunken, stupid high while on an adrenaline rollercoaster. I felt nauseous. Clueless. And I sure as hell didn’t have a plan.

“It’s all right. He’s harmless.”

He licked his painted lips and leaned forward to give the driver an address before looking out the window. I breathed a sigh of relief and settled back in my seat to observe him.

“Where we going?”

“
I’m
going home. You can have the taxi driver take you wherever you want.”

I started to argue but let it go. Now that I’d finally found him, I was sticking to his side. We could haggle later.

“Who was the guy with the fancy coat?”

“Someone I know.”

“Hmm. Why’d he call you Billie? I’m assuming that’s spelled with an
I-E
like a girl. Am I right?”

He spared me a bored glance and reached for his phone, signaling he was done talking.

“He’s kinda old for you, huh?”

Silence.

“Hey, whatever you’re into is cool. It’s just that I pictured you with someone different. Someone not so… married-looking.”

This time his look was less friendly, but he still didn’t speak. And suddenly, I was obsessed with cracking his cool exterior and getting some kind of reaction. I plucked at his fishnet tights and got my hand smacked a second later.

“Ow.” I shook my hand and scowled dramatically. “That hurt.”

“It did not. Can you do me a favor?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“Don’t talk. Not one word. Go home, sleep it off, and forget you saw me tonight. Please.”

I leaned forward and set my hand back on his knee. “That sounds like more than one favor, and I’m not—hey, did I tell you you’re pretty? ’Cause you are. As a girl and a guy too.”

Will removed my hand again and sighed. “Thanks. Now be quiet.”

“But—”

“Quiet.”

No matter what I asked or commented on as the driver sped along
Eighth Street toward the East Village, my companion remained stubbornly silent for the rest of the drive. Ten minutes later we pulled in front of a nondescript brick building, somewhere near Bowery Bagels. I didn’t recognize my surroundings per se, but I was in a familiar neighborhood. Maybe. I waited for Will to pay the driver, then hopped out of the taxi after him.

Fuck, it was cold. I shivered violently and wiped at my nose. This was miserable. I was dizzy and my stomach felt off. I hadn’t been sick from alcohol in years, but I couldn’t remember when I’d eaten last. This wasn’t a good idea. Will obviously wanted nothing to do with me.

“What t-time is it?” I asked, staring over his shoulder as he punched in a passcode on the metal box next to the glass door.