Wonderland (2 page)

I
woke up the morning after the night before sandwiched between the twins. It was morning breath and morning wood, and the pounding of too many gin and crans. The light was streaming through the window, and that definitely didn't help. Damn Brandon and his cute ass! Damn Caterpillar and his good blow! Damn Steven and his stubborn pride!

That wasn't the way the night had been supposed to go.

I lay there, holding my palms against my forehead, willing the hangover to go away. The twin on my right stirred, and when the sheet fell away from his belly, revealing a sun around his belly button, hard abs, and a harder dick, I grimaced. What had I done?

Colton opened his eyes. “Morning,” he said, reaching out to rub my cheek.

“Morning.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Been better.”

“You were insatiable. Steven's a lucky guy.”

“Thanks. Look, last night . . . it was a mistake. Steven can't ever know.”

“No worries.” He pulled me into him, kissing me. I let him kiss me before I pulled back.

“I can't.” I wanted to, oh how I wanted to! Colton was beautiful, Colton was there. Steven wasn't. “I can't,” I repeated, less insistent. Behind me, I felt Jesse wake up, felt him pressing into me, felt his breath on my ear.

“You can,” Jesse whispered. Both their heads went down. I exhaled deeply. Not the way it had been supposed to go at all. But they were here, and they were beautiful, and if that wasn't a good excuse, it was excuse enough.

When we were done, we showered, all together, the relaxed and awkward cleansing that happens after a good romp. I watched them as I got dressed and they toweled each other off. They were so comfortable with each other, the ease that only comes after years of being together. Steven and I had never had that ease. Maybe in time we would have. He hadn't been willing to give us the time. Hadn't been willing to forgive me for the mistake I'd made.

“Shall we brunch?” Colton asked. His arms wrapped around Jesse, and they were both looking at me, all smiles and dimples.
That's how I got here,
I thought,
those damn dimples.
But I nodded. I was hungry, and maybe food would be a balm to my guilty conscience.

Why should I be guilty though? Hadn't Steven said we were done? Why shouldn't I dance and fuck and be free? What was I supposed to do? Light the candles, turn up the power ballads, and drown my sorrows in a bottle of wine? I wasn't nineteen anymore.

Stupid like a nineteen-year-old, though,
I thought as I felt the Baggie through my jeans, felt the hard box in my pocket. What had I been thinking? Did I really think that some grandiose gesture was going to make everything okay? I wondered if I could get the money back for the ring; I knew I couldn't for the drugs. You can never put the powder back into the Baggie.

“Yes, let's brunch.” They wrapped their arms around my shoulders, and off we went.

 

Brunch at the Duchess was Saturday tradition. Steven and I had gone every week. As Jesse and Colton and I were shown to our table, we nodded greetings to people we knew, people we'd seen at the club the night before. Occasionally, one would get up to greet us with a kiss. Gays and their brunches! Cheapest mimosas and the best hollandaise in the city though, and that's what I ordered. Steven would have had an omelet; I always ordered my eggs Benedict.

I remembered the first time Steven and I had gone for brunch there. It was the morning after our first night together. I was glowing. We talked, about everything, about nothing. And then we'd gone for a walk in the river valley, sipping on lattes we had picked up at one of the many Starbucks in the gayborhood. The walk led to lunch, which led to dinner, and before either of us knew it, we had spent the weekend together, and I'd known I loved him.

“Alex! Colton! Jesse!” We turned our heads, nearly as one, at the approach of Brandon, whose lean lanky beauty was single-handedly responsible for my hangover (albeit, the mimosa in my hand was rapidly easing the headache). On Brandon's arm was a pretty boy I didn't know, one who Brandon introduced as Allan.

“Flavor of the week,” Jesse whispered to me, even as Colton invited them to join us. Allan had blue-gray eyes that peered out from behind black glasses. Blond hair poked out from under a backward blue ball cap, and his hand never let get of Brandon's.

“Hope you guys had fun at the club last night,” Brandon said. “And you bitches better be out tonight for my birthday. I will make sure you're guest-listed.”

“We'll be there,” Colton said, and Jesse nodded.

“What about you, Alex?” Brandon said, and he flashed me that irresistible smile.

I had a ring in my pocket, and no one's hand to put it on. “Yes, I'll be there.”

Our food came, and Brandon entertained us with stories from the night before, part fabulous, part tragic, all gossip. Allan hung on his every word, poor kid. Brandon went through fresh-faced twinklets like I went through gin and crans. Steven and I used to laugh about it. We couldn't keep them straight, the Shanes and Shawns and Austins.

“Earth to Alex.”

“Sorry?”

“I was asking you where Steven was last night.”

“I . . . I don't know. We . . . had a fight.”

That was the understatement of the year. I'd never seen Steven so angry. I should've known he would be. He hated drugs. That was one of the first things he'd told me, on our river valley walk, that first Saturday, after our first Friday. Months ago, when everything was new, and we had nothing ahead but possibility.

Jesse and Colton were laughing at the inane story Brandon was telling, Allan gazing up at him with undisguised adoration. I couldn't do it, couldn't be around all the happy. Not to mention the guilt every time I looked at one of the twins. I needed to find Steven and throw myself at his feet and beg forgiveness.

I pushed my chair back. “I need to go, guys.” I dropped some money on the table.

“See you tonight?” Jesse asked.

“Yah, I'll be there.”

“You better, bee-yotch,” Brandon said, and blew me a kiss.

I left the Duchess and headed home. I checked my phone and there were no missed calls, no unanswered texts. I dialed Steven's number. It went straight to voice mail, and his voice mail was full. He had never been good with his phone, definitely didn't live on it like I did. He hadn't tweeted, he hadn't Facebooked. Oh the wonders of social media! Never before had it been so easy to keep tabs on a missing boyfriend.

Well, ex-boyfriend. He had said we were over, and a night of drugs and threeways surely sealed that deal. Especially if he ever found out. Which he would. Keeping secrets in this little gayborhood was impossible. Big city, but a small town. Everyone knew everyone's business, and it was just a matter of time before Steven found out what had happened.

The only thing to do was man up and tell him first.

I was about to reach my building but did an about-face and headed toward Steven's house. Summer was definitely over. Leaves were falling from the trees. The streets were lined with them. Gold and brown and red, they were clogging the sewer grates. I reached into my pocket, felt the ring box, pulled out the Baggie, and shoved it through the leaves into the sewer.

That had been even dumber than going home with the twins, but it had seemed like a good idea at the time, in the gin-induced fog. Steven didn't need to know about that, either. If he forgave me for the threeway, that would be a miracle. He sure wouldn't forgive me for visiting the Caterpillar. Not twice.

I turned onto his street. There was his house. His car was outside, that cute little Volkswagen he'd been driving the first time I saw him. Had it only been six months? The leaves were just starting to come back after the long winter when we met. Now they were falling. What a summer it had been though. The summer of me and Steven.

I kept walking past. I couldn't face him. Not yet.

I
t was a Friday. I'd finished work at the bank, and had stopped to grab some groceries. I'd unloaded them from my cart and was just closing my trunk when I saw him. One row over and a few spaces down, he was standing there, his bags on the roof of his white Rabbit. He was taller than me, probably six two, and looked like he worked out. His dress shirt was tight across his chest, his tie loosened just right. He looked right at me and smiled. White teeth and a bum chin.

I had never seen anyone so handsome.

Oh sure, I'd seen lots of gorgeous men, but sometimes their beauty just masked the emptiness within. This guy, he carried himself with confidence, not just ego. He was sharply dressed, but not superficially so. He was well rounded, grounded, intelligent, and funny. I could tell. Two seconds of eye contact and I knew all I needed to know.

And he was getting into his car and I'd never see him again.

That couldn't happen!

As he got into his car, I got into mine, and as he pulled out, I did the same. This was crazy. Was I actually going to follow a guy home from the Safeway? As I followed him into traffic, I realized that was exactly what I was going to do.

Traffic was slow and tight as we headed downtown, and I could keep him in sight easily. I stayed a few cars behind him. In my mind, I was already picturing our wedding, me and this tall, dark, and handsome stranger whom I was stalking across the bridge. It was romantic, what I was doing, right? Love, first sight, right? I had convinced myself, and signaled to change lanes. I would pull up next to him, and he'd yell out his number at me, and that would be that.

But as I pulled left, he went right.

“Shit!” I swore, and swerved back over. A car honked, and slammed on its brakes. I waved at the driver, who was flipping me off, and swerved into the far right lane. Where was he? I scanned the traffic ahead for the white Rabbit. There it was, and I exited the road, following him.

Completely crazy.

He was stopped at a red light. I pulled into the lane next to him and looked over. He wasn't looking back. Should I honk?
No, that would be too much,
I thought, not that this whole thing wasn't completely ridiculous anyway. We pulled out from the light when it went green. As we did, he glanced my way, and we had eye contact again! And there it was, that smile. I wanted to wave, but in the split second I had to decide, he turned right.

I tried to get over, but couldn't. Cars cut me off, and by the time I got over, I was two blocks past where he'd turned. I backtracked. The street he had turned onto was all cute little houses, all identical. The Rabbit was parked but he was nowhere to be seen! Which house was his? Damn! I pulled to the curb in front of his car. What could I do? Knock on doors at random?

No. That wouldn't work. I reached over to my glove box, took out a pen and paper. I could leave a note on his windshield, but what would I say? This wasn't how it was supposed to be. He was supposed to be standing outside waiting for me. No. A note wouldn't work either.

“You're being ridiculous, Alex,” I said out loud. “Just go home.” I was right, like usual. The whole thing was just a ludicrous idea in the first place. People don't see people in a parking lot and then spend the rest of their lives together. That didn't happen. I backed up to pull away . . . backed up right into his car.

“Fuck!” I said, slamming my fists on the steering wheel and accidentally honking my own horn. And then I saw him, coming out of his house across the street. I turned off my engine and got out of my car.

“What the hell, dude?” he said.

“Sorry, sorry, my bad.” He was even hotter up close, and with his jacket off, I could make out the bulge of a well-defined bicep through his shirt.

He paused and looked at me. “Didn't I just see you at Safeway?” he asked.

“Yeah, I think so!”

We looked at the cars, and luckily neither was damaged. Or not luckily. If I'd hit it a little harder, I'd have had to give him my phone number for insurance purposes, but with no damage, I would just leave and he'd be out of my life unless . . .

“Well, I guess there's no damage, so—”

“Wannagofordinner?” I interrupted him.

“Sorry?”

“Would you like to go for dinner?”

He raised an eyebrow, looked me up and down, and smiled. “Well, I better drive though, I think.”

“Probably a good idea.” My face was hot as I extended my hand. “I'm Alex.”

His hand was smooth and his handshake firm. “Hi. I'm Steven.”

He took me to a cute little Italian place a few blocks down, and after we'd ordered some wine, he asked me, “So do you live around here then?”

“Well, about a dozen blocks or so.”

“Visiting?”

“Well, actually, no.” The waiter came back with the wine, and as he poured us both a glass, I took Steven in with my eyes. Once I finished confessing that I had followed him from the grocery store like a crazy person, I was sure he would get up and leave me there to finish the wine myself. I sipped the wine. It had quite a lovely taste, so at least he wasn't about to leave me with a cheap bottle. “The truth is,” I continued, taking a deep breath (and another sip), “I kinda followed you.”

“You did what?” Steven paused mid-drink.

I laughed nervously. “It's completely insane, I know, but I saw you in the parking lot, and just thought, go for it.”

“You backed into my car just to get to meet me?”

“No, that part was accidental.”

“You're a mental case.”

“A bit.” I took another sip. “Are you staying?”

“Do you see me leaving?”

“It's actually your fault,” I said, taking his continued presence as a sign to forge ahead.

“How so?”

“You're far too good-looking to smile at strangers in parking lots.”

“I don't expect them to follow me home.”

“I was a stray cat in a previous life.”

“Then I should be careful what I feed you.”

“Well, it
is
a good wine.”

“Try the pumpkin ravioli.”

“Sounds delicious. I might not leave.”

“I might not ask you to,” he said, and he reached across the table and touched my hand. There was that smile again. “That being said, though, you're completely insane.”

“I'm well aware, but in this case, it looks like it worked out.”

“So far.”

“Yes, so far.”

The waiter came back up to the table. “Do you see anything you like?”

“I think I do,” Steven said, and the smile as he looked at me told me he didn't mean the pumpkin ravioli.