“I’m just saying, you might want to take a test,” Kira said. She took a swig of beer and set the bottle on the table. “Just in case.”
Zack chuckled. “I’m pretty sure I’m not pregnant, Kira.”
“But you have this glow about you,” she insisted. “Either John’s knocked you up, or you were bitten by a radioactive spider.”
“Spider-Man didn’t gl—” Zack started, but then he shook his head. “Never mind. The point is, I am not glowing. I’ve just been spending a lot of time with John. You know, having all of the sex. It does a body good.”
Kira laughed, though the sound was partially drowned out by the din. The bar they were in was crowded for a Tuesday night. If it weren’t for the fact that it was down the street from Zack’s place, he wouldn’t bother coming here. It was crawling with hipsters, and the music sounded like a dozen subtle variations of the same crooning, indie rock song. But they had killer beer specials, and now that Zack was poor again, he couldn’t afford anywhere else.
“Ah, yes, the sex,” Kira drawled. “I never get tired of hearing you talk about how much sex you and John are having. I feel like I’ve been listening to this for years.”
Zack shrugged. “Months, actually. It’s been a long time since John first called me. Though if you’re going by when we first met in person, it’s just a few weeks. I probably am being obnoxious about it, but I can’t seem to stop myself.”
The waitress arrived with a fresh beer for Zack, and he downed a quarter of it in three gulps. He didn’t want to get trashed tonight, but he wanted a healthy buzz to warm him on the walk home. Winter was in full swing, and it seemed like it was going to be a rough one this year.
“It’s okay,” Kira said. “It’s kinda nice, actually. Before I had to listen to you talk about whatever random guy you’d hooked up with over the weekend. Now I still get the hookup story, but all the background info is the same. You must like John if you’ve kept him around for this long.”
“Actually,” Zack said, “I have some news to share with you about that.”
Kira perked up like a cat that heard a can opener, but Zack waved her off. “It’s not that exciting. Well, no, it is. My life is always exciting. But I’d rather wait for everyone else to get here before I share my news.”
Kira checked her phone. “He should be here any minute.”
“He? No Alexa tonight?”
“No, she had to work. Lee will be here, though.”
“Okay. I’ll rely on you to inform Alexa.”
Kira saluted. “I would have even if you hadn’t said anything.”
“That’s my girl.”
Zack sipped his beer and took what he hoped was a subtle peek at Kira. He’d tried to avoid talking about work ever since she started dating Alexa, but he knew it was only a matter of time. Kira had supported their occupation before, but that was as a friend, not a lover. In Zack’s experience, things tended to change when hearts became involved.
Kira seemed relaxed, from what he could tell, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. She usually appeared calmest when she was the most troubled.
Zack decided to risk asking the question burning on his tongue. “So . . . have you and Alexa talked about her job?”
“Every day,” Kira said matter-of-factly. “It’s going well, from what she tells me.”
“You know what I mean.” Zack took another long drink from his beer. “Have you two had the Talk yet?”
“The Sex Worker Talk?”
Zack nodded.
“Kind of,” Kira said. “Honestly, when she first brought it up, I was one of those people you two complain about, the ones who don’t get it and try to convince you to quit.”
Zack nodded again, but inwardly he felt a twinge of disappointment. “That happens a lot, yeah. It’s hard for most people to think of sex work as a legitimate career.”
“Well, I’m not most people.” Kira slumped a bit in her seat. “At least, I thought I wasn’t. At first, I was really supportive, but I guess part of me assumed that when Alexa and I got serious, she’d find a new job. That, obviously, did not happen.”
“Not to get all soapboxy or whatever,” Zack said, “but sex work isn’t something Alexa needs to be rescued from. It’s not like being in a relationship will make her wake up and see the light, so to speak.”
“I know.” Kira sighed. “I get that now. I mean, I try to get that. It’s going to be a while before I stop thinking of her job as something she’s just doing until she finds a real career. But I’m trying, and I think Alexa understands that.”
“You’re lucky she kept you around after that. Alexa used to consider it an instant deal breaker if someone wasn’t okay with her job.”
“I’m not not okay with it,” Kira clarified. “I just . . . like, I know she’s bi, and I swear I’m cool with that, but as the resident lesbian of the group, it doesn’t make sense to me that anyone would voluntarily spend all day verbally jacking off dirty old men.” Kira shuddered. “Gross.”
“Hey, they’re not all dirty old men,” Zack said. “John is living proof of that. And I’m not interested in women, but I still understand why you and Alexa are together. Different strokes and all that.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it. The whole discussion made me feel horrible—mostly because I deserved to; I was being an ass—and then I felt even more horrible for making Alexa feel horrible, even if she didn’t say anything. It was like this inescapable negative feedback loop, and I would love to just get rid of this jealousy, but I can’t.”
“Give it some time, and I’m sure you’ll get used to the idea. Or hey, maybe one day you and Alexa will be hired to be the poster children for world peace. I mean, you’re a couple of attractive queer girls, and you’re an interracial couple.”
Kira tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Now that you mention it, our group all together checks a lot of boxes. A black lesbian, a gay man, an alternative bisexual, and then the token straight guy.”
“Who also happens to be Vietnamese,” Zack added.
“Precisely. I bet there are some politicians out there who would pay us just to be photographed in our presence. We’re a PC dream.”
Zack was still sniggering when the door to the bar opened and Lee appeared. He made a quick stop at the bar to order a beer and then snaked his way through the crowd to their table. When he arrived, his cheeks were flushed—scrubbed pink by the wind—and his silky black hair was in disarray.
“Hey,” Zack greeted him, standing so he could grab a nearby chair and add it to their small table.
Lee accepted it gratefully. “Hey. What’d I miss?”
“Nothing much,” Kira said. “We were just discussing the finer details of our future campaign to be the faces of World Peace.”
“Ah,” Lee said. “And by ‘we’ I assume you mean you signed me up for this as well?”
“But of course.”
He nodded in a resigned way. “I saw that coming.”
“How’s school going?” Zack asked. “Are you ready to fling yourself off a bridge yet?”
“Just about. Sometimes I can’t believe I still have a year left. And then other times I can’t believe it’s only a year until I graduate and have to become a real adult.”
“Put it off for as long as possible,” Zack advised. “It sucks. Peter Pan was right all along.”
“Maybe I’ll just keep getting degrees until the scholarship money runs dry. So what’s up with you? I haven’t seen you since that night we went to the Library.”
“Same old, same old,” Zack replied, trying to act casual.
Lee shattered his attempt. “What happened between you and that guy? John or whatever? You a couple yet?”
“Yes,” Kira answered at the same time Zack said, “No.”
They looked at each other, and Kira smiled airily. “You are so.”
“Not officially,” he insisted.
“Yeah, because you’re avoiding it for some inexplicable reason. I mean, we hardly ever see you anymore because you’re always with John. What’s the deal? Is John not as great as you make him sound?”
“No, he is,” Zack said. “We’re just not there yet.”
“But why?” Kira pestered. “Come on, Zackary, you can tell us.”
Zack picked at the label on his beer. “It hasn’t been brought up. Not since our first—well, second date, technically.”
“Is that because you’ve been avoiding it? Or has John?”
Zack shrugged. “Little of column A, little of column B.”
“That surprises me. From what Alexa told me, he’s been trying to lock you down since day one. What changed?”
Zack answered without looking up. “That’s kinda what I wanted to talk about tonight. Things have been . . . different between us. Because of something I did.”
“Well, don’t leave us hanging,” Kira said, raising her beer to her full lips. “Spill.”
“Stop me if I seem like I’m making tonight all about me,” Zack said. “It’s been a while since we hung out. I want to hear about you guys.”
“Our lives are boring,” Lee piped up. He ran his fingers through his hair, and every strand fell perfectly into place. Zack felt a mild stab of hatred for him. “You’re the one with the mysterious job and the rich boyfriend. We want to hear what happened. Did you buy him the wrong color diamond or something? Or worse,” he feigned a look of mortification, “did you wear something off the rack?”
Zack laughed. “Definitely not the diamond part. I’ve never been more broke, and funny enough, it’s kind of John’s fault.”
Lee frowned. “How? Has your millionaire boyfriend been making you pay for dinner?”
“No, nothing like that. There’s actually . . . something I need to tell you about him. And me.”
Zack glanced at Kira. Her dark eyes were wide. She clearly understood what Zack was about to do. He raised an eyebrow. She tilted her head, then nodded.
Zack turned to Lee. “I should have told you forever ago, but I wasn’t sure how you’d react.”
Lee glanced between them. “Did someone die? Are you dying, Zack? Is it cancer?”
“Why the hell would you think I—” Zack remembered that he smoked and cut himself off. “No one is dead or dying. I’m just ready to tell you about my mysterious job.”
“Oh,” Lee said. “Well, that’s a bit anticlimactic.”
“I’m a phone sex operator,” Zack blurted.
“You’re a what? A phone sex who?”
“I’m a sex worker.” Zack took a sip of his beer and gave Lee a moment to digest. “I dunno if that’s easier for you to understand.”
“A sex worker,” Lee repeated. He looked stunned. “Like a prostitute?”
Zack sighed. Definitely not easier, then. He knew it was unfair to expect more from his friends, but it was still frustrating.
“No. Let’s stick with phone sex operator.”
Lee opened and closed his mouth several times before grabbing his beer and taking a long drink. When he finished, Zack took the liberty of ordering another round. It seemed they were going to need it.
“What exactly do you do?” Lee asked.
“I have phone sex with strangers for money,” Zack answered directly. “When I took a semester off, I had a few grand in student loan debts that needed repaying, and I wasn’t sure what to do. I worked odd jobs and taught guitar and did basically whatever I could to scrape by, but it wasn’t enough. Then one night I was up late—as you often are when you’re unemployed—and this commercial came on for a hotline.”
“And you called them?” Lee asked, making a face.
“Not recreationally, I promise. I saw the price tag attached to a one-minute phone call, and a lightbulb went off above my head. The next day, I went down to their office and applied for a job.” He smiled. “The interviewing process was bizarre. I had to leave a voice mail on my boss’s phone so she knew what I would sound like to clients. And then she made me read this monologue from one of their scripts, using my lower register. It was super awkward at first, trying to be sexy while Colette was watching me like a hawk, but I must’ve succeeded because I got the job. I’ve been working there ever since.”
Lee exhaled slowly and stared at the ceiling.
Zack waited for him to respond. After a solid minute of silence had passed, he asked, “What are you doing?”
“I’m beseeching the Lord for strength.”
“You’re Buddhist.”
“I know, but I feel like sex workers are more Jesus’s area than Siddhartha’s.” Lee passed a hand over his eyes and then looked at Zack. “Well, I suppose I’m glad you told me. I mean, it’s not a career path I would choose for myself, but I’m not going to judge you. Sorry for how I reacted.”
“That was pretty much what I expected, if it helps,” Zack said. “The horror, the disbelief, the five stages of grief. I’m used to it. You did pretty good.” Lee started to deny it, but Zack insisted, “No, really. Imagine if I told my parents.”
“Oh, they’d die. And they’d take you with them.” Lee gave a low whistle while pantomiming something dropping. When it hit the table, he imitated an explosion. “It’d be apocalyptic. Nothing left. Don’t ever tell them.”
“I don’t intend to,” Zack said. The waitress brought their beers. “Sadly, I’m not finished. This is one of those ‘in order to tell you this story, I must first tell you that story’ situations.”
“Okay,” Lee said, bracing himself. “I’m ready.”
“You’re really not,” Kira chimed in. “Trust me, it’s about to get weird.”
“Thank you. You know the guy I’m seeing? John?”
“Yeah, of course.” Lee gasped. “You haven’t told him what you do?”
“Quite the opposite.” Zack scratched the back of his head. “He used to be a client of mine.”
“What?”
“Yeah, he called in one day, and we got to talking—”
“—like you do when you’re a PSO,” Kira interjected.
“Like you do,” Zack agreed, “and at first it was just sex, as I’m sure you can imagine.”
“I’d rather not,” Lee said.
“Fair enough. But anyway, then we ran into each other at that club—”
“Oh, that’s why you freaked out that night!” Lee exclaimed.
“May I finish, please?” Zack asked. “Jesus, this is like the night I told Kira and Alexa all over again.”
“Sorry,” Lee said. “Continue.”
“Anyway, we met by accident, but then he asked me out on a date, and it turns out he’s really smart and sweet and gorgeous, and we’ve been seeing each other ever since. Oh, and if my boss finds out, I’m fired.” Zack held his beer up in a mock toast. “Also, I accidentally told John I loved him, and he’s been weird ever since. The end.”
It was Kira’s turn to look flummoxed. “Zack, are you serious?”
“As the grave!” he replied with a cheerful wink.
“Did he say it back?”
“No, but only because I stopped him. I said I wanted to forget it happened. I think that’s why he hasn’t brought it up since.”
Lee’s face had turned a violent shade of mauve that suggested he’d just reached his capacity for new information, but he managed to ask, “Did you mean it when you said it to him?”
Zack hesitated before he answered. “At the time . . . I didn’t think so.”
“And now?” Kira questioned.
Zack’s cheeks grew hot. “Yeah, I love him. I’m more certain every day. Which is why it sucks so much that we haven’t talked about it since.”
“Isn’t it a little soon?” Lee asked. “I feel like you just started dating.”
“Like I told Kira before you arrived, we’ve technically been talking for months. But yeah, I guess we’ve always moved kind of fast. I mean, we had a form of sex the first time we ever talked, and then we really had sex on our first date. Plus, I introduced him to Ziggy—which is huge for me—and he gave me a key to his house.”
“And that didn’t seem kind of hasty to you?” Lee asked.
“He has a house?” Kira squealed. “Is it a mansion?”
Zack laughed. “I asked the same thing. It might as well be, compared to my apartment. I’m heading over there tonight, as a matter of fact.”
Lee held his beer in both hands and stared at it. “In that case, I think what you should do is obvious. If you love this guy, and you’re seeing him tonight, you should tell him.”
Zack flinched. “I’m kind of scared to.”
“You don’t think he feels the same?” Kira asked.
“No, I know he does. That’s what’s so scary. When I say it, and then he says it back, it’ll be like . . . real, or whatever.”
“Spoken like a true poet,” Kira said wryly.
“You get what I mean. What if I’m making a huge mistake?”
Lee shrugged. “What if you’re not?”
Zack started to answer, but then he repeated Lee’s words in his head. He had to admit, Lee had a point. Zack was acting like John was a ticking time bomb just waiting to blow up in his face, but did he really have any reason to think that? What if John was simply a man who loved Zack and wanted to be with him? Zack hadn’t allowed himself to believe that he and John would work out in the end, and as a result, he’d been sabotaging them. It seemed so silly now.
“Wow,” Zack said. “I’ve been an idiot.”
“About what?” Kira asked.
“About John. I never let myself think it could work. Doesn’t make much sense, does it?”
“I can’t say it does,” Lee answered, “but that’s mostly because you’re not making sense. I’m glad I could help, though. Are you going to tell him how you feel?”
“Yes,” Zack affirmed. “I think I am. Right now.”
He stood up, threw some money on the table, and waved a hasty good-bye to his friends. They watched him elbow his way through the crowd with a mixture of bewilderment and amusement on their faces.
Zack stepped outside and was hit by a swell of winter wind. He threw his jacket over his shoulders and ran back to his apartment. Now that Zack had resolved to tell John, excitement was fizzing through his veins.
He got home, slammed the door shut, and made a beeline for his room. Ziggy jumped up from the sofa and ran after him, obviously sensing his owner’s frenetic energy.
“Ziiiiiiggy,” Zack half sang, grabbing his dog’s front paws and dancing with him in a circle, “how would you like a new daddy?”
Ziggy growled.
“Not to replace me, baby boy. A new daddy in addition to me.”
Ziggy’s tongue flopped out of his mouth.
“I knew you’d say that.”
Zack checked his phone. It was 7:02 p.m., and his plans with John were for nine. They were supposed to meet at a restaurant for a late dinner and then go back to his place to watch movies—their incredibly subtle code for “put on something random and have sex.”
Obviously, Zack needed to wear something phenomenal, but beyond that, what was his game plan? Was he going to wait to tell him at the restaurant, or—no, Zack couldn’t wait that long. His chest was swelling with the news. He needed to tell John now.
Maybe he could grab a cab and surprise John at his place. He had a key, and John had talked earlier about studying all day, so surely John wouldn’t mind if he showed up.
An idea suddenly struck him. Mr. Alvarez had said his car was roadworthy now. In fact, he’d instructed Zack to take Marilyn for a drive soon to charge her battery. What if he drove her to John’s house?
Zack could picture it vividly: Marilyn’s maiden voyage, dedicated to delivering the news that Zack loved John. It was exactly the level of overdramatic that Zack expected from himself. He was part Italian, after all.
Then he could drive John to dinner for once. Mr. Alvarez’s words echoed in Zack’s head: “If one person has more ‘value’ than the other, it throws off the balance.” Well, now Zack had a working car. He wasn’t relying on John for rides anymore. He could feel the gap between them closing already.
Zack chose his outfit in a flurry, settling on black jeans, a gray shirt, and a forest-green jacket that highlighted his classically tall, dark, and handsome features. He waited another half an hour to ensure he was sober enough to drive, though every second of it felt like a small infinity.
It was a quarter to eight when Zack finally said good-bye to Ziggy, went out back, and unwrapped Marilyn like a birthday present. Her paint seemed to glow in the moonlight.
Zack got behind the wheel and slid the key into the ignition with shaking hands. She smelled divine: old leather, gasoline, and adventure. He took a deep breath, half to take her in and half to steady his nerves, before turning the key.
Marilyn’s engine roared to life. It would never have the gentle purr of a modern car, but Zack didn’t care. In fact, he preferred it this way. It sounded like he was inside the belly of a fierce but benevolent beast. The radio lit up on the dash, and he used an old-fashioned tuning dial to find a classic rock station. He adjusted his mirrors, turned on his lights, and, at long last, put Marilyn into drive.
The ride was far from smooth—Marilyn shook when he braked, and she stalled once when he made a sharp turn—but it was glorious. Zack rolled down the windows and let the crisp night air sluice through his hair. He turned his music up as loud as he could and belted out lyrics that were only half-right. The road seemed to melt away beneath him, and before Zack knew it, he was in front of John’s house.
Zack almost did a victory lap around the block, but Mr. Alvarez had only put so much gas in the tank.
He pulled into the driveway and parked behind John’s car. When he got out, he patted Marilyn on her hood. “Don’t let that Lexus intimidate you, beautiful. It may be flashy and new, but you’re classic.” He trotted up to the front door and unlocked it with his key.
The house was quiet and dark. Nine times out of ten, John was in his room, reading or listening to music. Zack started to head that way, but then he heard John’s voice coming from the living room. John was probably watching some foreign film that he would claim was way more educational than studying. Zack smiled and made his way toward the noise.
As he approached, Zack realized John was talking to someone. Maybe he had a study buddy over. Now that he thought about it, John had never mentioned any school friends to him.
Zack walked through the doorway. “John?”
Several odd things struck him at once. First, John was alone, though Zack was certain he’d heard his voice a moment before. Second, the TV was off, so it definitely wasn’t the source of the sound. And third, when John saw him, he jumped off the couch.
“Zack!” John shouted. He had a big smile on his face as he hurried over to greet him. “I thought we weren’t meeting until nine.” He started to embrace him, but Zack stopped him an arm’s length away, studying John’s face. His smile looked strained, and his cheeks were pink.
“Are you okay?” Zack asked. His previous excitement drained out of him, leaving him with the distinct and unsettling impression that something was wrong.
“Of course,” John said. His smile faded a bit, which at least made him look less deranged. He put his hand over Zack’s on his chest. “I’m just surprised to see you.” He tilted his head in the sexy-coy way that he knew made Zack want to jump him. “Aren’t you going to kiss me hello?”
Zack’s unease began to ebb. “Yeah, sorry, I was just . . . I don’t know. Forget it.”
He removed his hand, and John closed the distance between them, kissing him voraciously. Zack couldn’t help but get sucked into it.
John pulled back just enough to ask, “How’d you get here? Did you take a cab?”
Zack’s excitement came rushing back. “I have a surprise for you. Well, several surprises for you, actually, but they can wait. I was enjoying that kiss.”
He wrapped his arms around John and dragged their bodies together. John gave a startled moan when their hips connected, and at first Zack couldn’t understand why, but then he felt something firm against his thigh.
“Oh my,” Zack purred. “One kiss, and you’re half-hard? You must be happy to see me.”
“Absolutely.” John moved to kiss Zack’s neck. “Since we have some time before our reservation . . . want to . . .?”
“Mmm, yes,” Zack said, letting his head fall back so John had more room to kiss him. He hoped John would take the hint and kiss his favorite spot behind his ear. John did, and Zack made a pleased humming noise.
His eyes started to flutter closed, but then he glimpsed the couch. Something pinged on the edge of his thoughts, and he looked harder. A dark object—John’s phone—was peeking from between the cushions. Through the fog of arousal, a small voice told Zack that this was significant. He tried to ignore it and focus on the beautiful man kissing his neck, but it kept nagging at him.
In a flash of intuition, it all made sickening sense. Phone. Voice. John alone in the dark. His fake, too-cheerful smile. Icy, unrelenting understanding flooded into Zack and left him breathless.
Zack shoved John viciously. John stumbled back and only barely managed not to topple over. “What—”
Zack held up a hand.
“Don’t,” he said, no louder than a whisper. He covered his face with his hands, still too shocked to process what he knew. He took a step back and stared at John, who watched Zack in return.
Zack let the full fury show on his face, and John blanched.
“You,” Zack said, monotone, stating a fact, “called a hotline, didn’t you? You were talking to a PSO just then.”
John was silent at first, but then he looked down at his feet and said, “I’m sorry.”
Zack cocked a fist back and punched John square in his aristocratic face.