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Evan’s stomach filled with a weird nervous tension as they left the building. The late June air was muggy after the cool of the restaurant, and he shivered at the change in temperature and jammed his hands in his pockets. Jeremy had been quiet as he paid the bill, and Evan wondered if he’d made things awkward between them. Dinner had gone pretty well until Evan stuck his foot in his mouth and acted all needy and childish when Jeremy had already told him he wasn’t interested in anything but friendship.
“I’m sorry I made things weird,” Evan blurted out at the same time Jeremy said, “I have work tomorrow. I should probably head out.”
They both paused, standing there in the sickly yellow glow of the nearby light. Evan knew he should look away but he couldn’t stop staring at Jeremy’s jaw, already beginning to darken with stubble although it had been clean and smooth when they got to the restaurant a few hours before.
Jeremy reached out and grabbed Evan’s chin. “Listen to me; you have nothing to be sorry for, kid.”
“I didn’t mean to make it awkward.”
Jeremy shrugged and dropped his hand. “I need to stop sending you mixed signals. Like I said, I flirt with everyone. But I forget how inexperienced you are. Try to remember that, okay? If I flirt, it’s not personal, and I don’t mean anything by it. I think it would be great if we could be buddies. I could show you Six Feet Under, and we could watch baseball or something and grab dinner occasionally. Hell, I’ll be your wingman at a bar or a club if you want to go out and meet guys. But friendship is all it is, okay?”
Evan hesitated for a moment before he nodded. He wanted way more, but there was no way in hell he was turning down the chance to be friends with Jeremy. “Okay.”
“Cool. I’ll see you around then. I have a lot going on in the next couple days, but I’ll text you, and we can figure out a time to hang out.” He held out a fist, and Evan stared at it blankly for a moment before he balled his own hand up and tentatively bumped his knuckles against Jeremy’s. He tried to ignore the way the hair on the back of his hand stood up at the minor contact. Jeremy frowned at him and stuffed his hands in his pockets.
“So, um, I guess I should head out then,” Evan said. “You want a ride?”
“Where do you live again?”
“Rumson, right off Peachtree Drive.”
“Oh, I’m way past there. I’ll take the bus.”
“I could drive you,” Evan offered. He kind of hated the thought of the night ending already.
“It’s out of your way,” Jeremy protested.
“I don’t mind.”
“Uhh, okay then.”
Evan pointed Jeremy toward his beat-up gold Camry in the lot, and they walked toward it. His father had been an ass about it when Evan bought the car, lecturing him for not buying an American-made car, but he wanted something with good gas mileage that would last for a long time.
He noticed Jeremy was limping a little more than he had earlier. “Your leg okay?”
“Oh, it’ll be fine. I just had a long day.”
“Your head’s okay though?”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s good. Sitting in a booth for a long time aggravated my leg is all. I’ll go home and take a hot shower. I’d swim, but the pool at my complex is closed this time of night.”
“Do you like to swim?” Evan asked, unlocking the car with the remote and reaching for the driver’s side door. Jeremy went around the back and got in on the other side.
“Yeah, I like swimming,” he answered when they were both inside. “It’s good therapy for my leg, and I’m not as awkward in the water as I am on land.”
“You don’t seem awkward to me,” Evan said, starting the car.
They were both silent for most of the drive. It wasn’t uncomfortable, though, and with some radio station playing quietly in the background in the dim car, it was almost cozy. Evan was disappointed when he reached the entrance to Jeremy’s apartment complex, wishing there was a way to prolong the evening.
“You remember which apartment I’m in?” Jeremy asked.
Evan nodded. “3001, right?”
“Yes.” Jeremy chuckled quietly. “I have a funny story about that, actually. When I was ready to leave the residential rehab facility, the case manager I worked with helped me find an apartment here. I still had some memory issues—day-to-day stuff was hard to remember sometimes—so I was terrified I’d forget which apartment I lived in. I carried it everywhere. I had it written on scraps of paper in my wallet, saved in my phone, every place I could think of. I considered getting it tattooed on my hand, but I was afraid I’d want to move and end up with this whole list of apartment numbers tattooed on me.”
Evan shook his head as he pulled into the parking spot in front of Jeremy’s building. “I can’t imagine. I don’t think I could have made it through what you did.”
“Let’s hope you never have to find out,” Jeremy said gruffly, unbuckling his seat belt as Evan put the car in park. “I think I had enough for both of us.”
Evan turned to face him. “I wish you hadn’t had to at all.”
Jeremy let out a heavy sigh and leaned his head against the seat, closing his eyes briefly. “You and me both, kid.”
In the dark car, with only the lights in the parking lot and the glow of the dash, it wasn’t easy to see Jeremy’s expression, but what Evan could see looked sad. It made him want to reach out and touch him, comfort him somehow, but he wasn’t sure if Jeremy would let him, so he kept his hands balled in his lap.
Jeremy turned his head to look at him, and Evan realized how close they were. Jeremy’s elbow—on the armrest between them—brushed Evan’s forearm, and they sat close enough that Evan began to wonder if Jeremy might lean in and kiss him. He felt nervous adrenaline surge through him, making him feel shaky and excited. He wet his lips, hoping his mouth didn’t still taste like dinner, and his breath got shallow and rapid. He could hear Jeremy’s too—not much steadier than his—and when Evan swallowed, it seemed noisy in the quiet car.
The tension made the hair on his forearms stand on end, and the proximity to Jeremy’s heat only made it worse. A shudder worked its way up Evan’s spine, and his eyes fluttered closed as he mentally willed Jeremy to lean in. Kiss me, Evan pleaded in his head. Please, just kiss me.
The electrically charged air between them thickened, but when nothing happened, Evan opened his eyes again, anxiously staring at Jeremy for a clue about what was going on.
The spot between Jeremy’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked at Evan. When the overhead light came on, Evan jerked in surprise. He blinked, trying to figure out what the hell had happened, and realized Jeremy had opened the side door.
“Thanks again for the ride.” Jeremy sounded too loud all of a sudden, and Evan flinched.
“Yeah—yeah, no problem,” Evan stammered. “Um, let me know when you want to hang out again or whatever.”
“Sure.” Jeremy nodded jerkily and got out of the car. The door closed noisily behind him, and Evan sat there staring after him as he walked to his apartment door and unlocked it. He glanced back at Evan before he disappeared inside, but Evan didn’t know what the expression on his face meant.
He stared at the closed door for a good five minutes, bewildered and disappointed. He’d thought—for a moment there—maybe Jeremy had changed his mind. Maybe it had all been wishful thinking. With a sigh, Evan put the car in reverse and backed out.
Once home, Evan kicked off his shoes in the entryway and tossed the contents of his pockets on the weird little wobbly table by the door that Monty had left. He crossed the room to the bed without bothering to turn on the light. Evan collapsed backward on it with his feet dangling over the edge. The only light in the room came from the spaces between the slats in the blinds, and he stared up at them as he thought about the night.
Jeremy confused him. Not that Evan had a lot of experience with making friends or dating, but none of the conversations he’d had with Jeremy had gone the way he’d expected them to. Jeremy seemed as confused as he was; flirting with Evan one minute, pushing him away the next.
He could still feel the tingle of Jeremy’s thumb against his chin, still feel the way his hair seemed to stand on end whenever Jeremy smiled at him. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way Jeremy smelled—like some kind of manly body wash or something—and he thought if he closed his eyes, he could remember every last detail of Jeremy’s face. The brown-green of his eyes, the divot in his chin, the way his grin curved up a little more on the right side. Even the silvery white skin at his temple that he seemed to hate so much. Evan didn’t mind it. Sure, it was a little startling at first, but it wasn’t nearly as interesting to look at as his strong jaw or how shiny his lips were when he licked them.
Maybe Jeremy’s leg was fucked up as he said, but maybe he was more self-conscious about it than anything else. Truthfully, Evan didn’t think he’d care how bad it was. If Jeremy’s pants came off, it sure as hell wasn’t going to be his leg Evan was focused on.
Of course, that might never happen at all. It looked like he was going to have to get used to the idea that nothing was going to happen between them, no matter how much he wanted it to.
Evan sighed heavily and got up to brush his teeth and go to bed.
Alone.
Like he did every night.
***
Evan’s week dragged. A few days before, Jeremy had texted him, and they made plans to hang out. Thursday worked for both of them because Evan was working a morning shift and Jeremy had the day off. They agreed to meet at Jeremy’s place. Evan offered to bring pizza, and they argued about pizza toppings for a while. The rush of excitement Evan felt was completely out of proportion to the plans they actually made, but he couldn’t help himself.
He’d been counting down the minutes since, and it seemed the more he wanted the clock to speed up, the more time dragged.
At the moment, Evan had a funeral he was assisting with, and the weather was sweltering hot. His suit stuck to his sweating body, and even in the shade of the canopy over the grave, he felt like he was baking. The widow was an older woman who had looked shaky in the cool air of the funeral home the day before. Today, they’d set up chairs for the immediately family and anyone else who needed them, but the widow seemed to be overwhelmed by heat and grief. As the reverend droned on about Jesus, Evan turned away and knelt down, unzipping a small cooler filled with cold packs and chilled bottles of water. He pulled a bottle out and stood. When there was a moment’s pause in the service, Evan leaned in and gently touched the shoulder of the daughter sitting closest to where he stood. She turned to him with a puzzled expression, and he leaned in and whispered, “I don’t mean to interrupt, ma’am, but your mother looked a little flushed. I thought she might like some water.”
Her expression softened as she took the bottle from him. “Oh, thank you! That is so thoughtful, young man. I was concerned about her myself.”
“We have more if you need them, and please, let any of us know if there’s anything we can do to help,” he said quietly, stepping back as the service resumed. The cool water did appear to help the elderly woman, and she seemed steadier as the funeral wrapped up.
By the time Evan and Bernard finished up at the gravesite and got in the hearse, they were both dripping sweat. “It sure is a scorcher today,” Bernard said, mopping at his forehead with a handkerchief. The air conditioner was going full force, but it was going to take a while before either of them cooled down. Evan wiped his own forehead and grimaced at the sopping wet handkerchief. Gross. He was going to have to do laundry tonight and take his suits to the dry cleaner. He cracked open a bottle of water and handed it over to Bernard before opening one for himself.
“Thanks. Nice touch with the water for Mrs. Armstrong earlier, by the way,” Bernard said as Evan gulped down the water, the cold hitting his stomach and making it ache. “Her daughter commented on it when she thanked me. It’s the kind of service that sets you apart from some of these kids we get in here.”
“Oh, thanks.” Evan said, a little flustered by the praise. “She seemed too warm, and I was afraid she might pass out.”
“No, you did real good, Evan. That’s exactly what you should be doing, and I’m impressed. It’s a pleasure to work with you.”
“With you, too.” Evan looked over and smiled at Bernard. Evan was glad he’d been partnered with Bernard. He was patient with Evan, not loud or pushy at all. Bernard couldn’t be any more different from Evan’s Uncle Waylon.
“So what do you have planned for the evenin’, young man?” Bernard asked as they drove back to the funeral home.
Evan shrugged. “Hanging out with a friend.”
Bernard glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “A boyfriend?”
Fear shot through Evan, and he broke out in a cold sweat that had nothing to do with the air conditioning. His voice was hoarse. “You know?”
“That you, errr ... prefer men? I’m sorry; was that somethin’ you didn’t want people to know?”
“Well, no, it wasn’t a secret,” Evan said. “I didn’t realize everyone knew though.”
“Word got around, but no one means anything bad by it,” Bernard said, his tone reassuring.
“It doesn’t ... bother you, does it?”
Bernard shook his head. “It makes no difference to me. Show up for work, keep doin’ a good job, and I’ll be happy to work with you.”
Evan sagged against the seat with relief. “I promise I’ll do that.”
“Then we’re good.” Bernard’s voice was firm.
Evan smiled to himself. He fiddled with the cap of his water bottle. “And um, no, he’s not my boyfriend. I would kinda like it if he were, but he doesn’t date, so we’re just friends.”
“Gotcha.” Bernard cleared his throat. “Well, I’m sure a nice kid like you will meet someone.”
“Thanks, Bernard.” Evan couldn’t hide his smile now. He’d spent so long hiding, assuming everyone was bothered by his sexuality, that he hadn’t considered how many people didn’t care one way or another who he dated.
***
After Evan wrapped up his shift at work, he stopped at home, showered, changed, and picked up dinner on his way to Jeremy’s. He felt his nerves rise as he approached the door. Juggling the pizza boxes, he knocked, shifting anxiously as he waited for Jeremy to answer the door. When it swung open, he couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything but stare. Jeremy had on a blue T-shirt, soft and worn-looking, with dark blue jeans. His feet were bare, and it looked like he hadn’t shaved. Evan felt a funny shiver run down his spine when he wondered what it would feel like if Jeremy kissed him. Would the stubble scratch or tickle?
“Hey,” he managed.
“Hey, kid.” Jeremy gave him a slow smile that made heat flood his belly. Evan’s skin prickled as Jeremy reached for the pizza boxes and their forearms brushed. “Come on in.”
Evan followed him in, noticing the apartment for the first time. When he’d been there before, he’d been so worried about Jeremy he hadn’t paid any attention to his surroundings. The apartment was nice. Not fancy or anything—like Russ and Stephen’s place—but a lot bigger than Evan’s studio. The front door opened right into a long, rectangular living room with wood floors, and he could see a bright white kitchen at the far end.
There was a slouchy-looking brown leather couch, a coffee table, a big TV, a small table and chairs, and a few pictures on the wall. It all looked comfy and lived in, a little empty but nice. “I like your place.”
Jeremy set the pizzas on the coffee table and smiled at him. “Thanks. I’ve been here ... hmm, almost eight years, I guess.” He gestured toward the couch. “Have a seat and get comfy. I’ll grab drinks. Coke okay?”
Evan nodded and took a seat at the far end of one couch. He didn’t spend a lot of time thinking about the fact Jeremy was fifteen years older than him, but the reminder that he’d been thirteen when Jeremy moved into the place was weird. Really weird. But Stephen was nineteen years older than Russ was, so maybe it wasn’t such a big deal. Of course, he and Jeremy weren’t dating, either. His stomach sank. Yeah, they were just friends, so it didn’t matter how far apart they were in age, did it?
“I have this little studio,” Evan said. “It’s like, a third this size, but I don’t own much of anything either.”
Jeremy gave him a crooked grin over his shoulder as he walked toward the kitchen. “This place was bare for years. I’m not much of a decorator; I’ve kind of picked up things as I’ve found them. The comfy couch and big TV were all I cared about.”
Evan laughed. “I don’t have either of those. Just a bed and my iPad. All I cared about was not being forced to have a roommate.”
Jeremy returned with drinks and paper plates, handing one of each to Evan. “I know how you feel. I’m not a big fan of having a roommate either, but that’s mostly because of the people I had to deal with in inpatient rehab. There was always someone moaning about how much pain they were in.” He snorted and took a seat on the couch. “Like the rest of us weren’t?” He cracked open the can of Coke and set it on the table next to the pizza.
“That sounds horrible. Staying with Russ and Stephen was a piece of cake in comparison.”
Jeremy grinned and moved the bag of breadsticks off the stack of pizza boxes. “Jesus, kid, how much food did you get us?”
Evan flushed. “Um, I wasn’t sure how much pizza you wanted, and they had this deal with breadsticks ...”
“No, it looks good. Thanks.” Jeremy’s smile was genuine. “So what did you get us, exactly?”
“I got you the Italian special with sausage, mushrooms, onions, and pepperoni, but you said you don’t like green peppers so I had them do black olives instead. Hope that’s okay.”
Jeremy flipped open the lid of the box. “It looks amazing. Damn. Well done.”
Evan smiled. “The other pizza is Hawaiian for me.”
Shaking his head, Jeremy handed the unopened box over. “Gross, Evan. I told you before; hot pineapple on pizza is disgusting. What the hell is wrong with you?” he teased.
“I like the salty/sweet thing,” Evan protested.
Jeremy opened his mouth but closed it again. “You know, I’m not even going to go there. “ He slid two slices of pizza onto the paper plate, cheese stretching between the plate and the rest of the pizza.
Confused, it took a second for Evan to realize what Jeremy was talking about, what he’d been implying, and his cheeks turned red again when it sunk in. Evan might not be sure exactly what Jeremy had meant, but he could guess. He lifted the lid on his pizza box and pulled out a couple slices, separating the strands of cheese with his finger and licking them absently. He glanced up to see Jeremy watching him, and he wondered what made him look so intense. After a moment, Jeremy shook his head and cleared his throat.
“So what was it like living with Stephen and Russ?”
Evan shrugged. “I dunno. Okay, I guess. I mean, they were super nice and did everything they could to make me feel comfortable, but I was still totally taking over their place. They didn’t have a guest room so I had to sleep in the living room on an air mattress. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful, but it was awkward, you know?”
“Yeah, I can imagine.”
“They’re so ...” Evan crammed pizza in his mouth when he realized he had no idea what he was going to say.
“Disgustingly in love?” Jeremy supplied. Evan laughed, trying not to choke on his pizza. Once he swallowed, he looked at Jeremy.
“Well, yeah. And it was kind of ... frustrating.”
Jeremy grinned. “From what I saw at the engagement party, they’re pretty intense. I can’t imagine it was much fun living with that.”
“Yeah, no, not so much,” Evan admitted then sighed. “I feel ungrateful because I know having me there was a huge hassle, and they were so nice to me, but there was only so much I could take after a while.”
“I’m sure,” Jeremy said. “Damn, this pizza is good.”
They discussed pizza—and restaurants in Atlanta in general—while they scarfed down food. Jeremy laughed when Evan described the website for this weird hippie pizza joint he ran across when he was looking for places.
“I’ve been there. It’s good, too.”
“So it’s not some weird psychedelic 70s’ kinda place?” Evan asked.
“Oh, it totally is,” Jeremy said with a grin. “Fun, though. I used to go there a lot in college. Of course, I used to do a lot of things in college.”
“Like what?” Evan asked.
Jeremy concentrated on his pizza for a minute before he answered. “Sex, drugs, and rock ’n’ roll—the usual.”
“Seriously?” Evan couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.
“Not the rock ’n’ roll.” Jeremy’s grin was crooked. “Seriously, though, I pretty much whored my way through UGA’s campus for the first couple years. And I definitely experimented with my share of drugs. Nothing too hardcore for any length of time, but I tried a few things. I’d pretty much calmed down by the time I met Stephen, but he didn’t quite know what to make of my past.”
Evan nodded. “Yeah, Stephen seems too serious to have ever been really wild. But what do I know? I’ve never ...” He shook his head. “I’ve never even been drunk, much less tried anything else.”
“Seriously? How sheltered were you?” Jeremy frowned as he took a bite of pizza.
“Umm, not so much sheltered as a loner and afraid of getting in trouble,” Evan admitted. “I didn’t have many friends, and I was afraid I’d do something to piss off my dad, so I hid in my room and read and stuff.”
“We couldn’t possibly be more opposite,” Jeremy said as he debated if he was going to have another slice of pizza. “I was never home, always out with friends, and I did everything I possibly could to piss off my parents.”
Evan laughed. “Why?”
“I don’t know. They were hung up on appearances, and I liked rubbing it in their faces that they didn’t have a perfect son, and they couldn’t control me.” Jeremy shrugged. “It was probably pretty childish, but they turned out to be such assholes, I don’t really feel bad about it.”
“I’m not ... judging you for it,” Evan said. “I just don’t have any idea what it’s like, you know? That’s the stupid thing; I have no idea what anything’s like, and I’m so sick of it. I came to Atlanta to try new stuff, and I haven’t done any of it. I’m ... curious. I feel so lame that I’ve never been drunk. I only turned twenty-one a few months ago though. I’m sure you remember what it’s like to not have any experience with anything, right?”
Jeremy nodded to be polite, but he didn’t remember. He’d been fourteen when he got drunk for the first time, trying to ignore the crush he had on his best friend. Plus, getting drunk pissed off his parents, which had more or less been his entire goal in life as a teenager. “I’d offer you a drink but I don’t have any alcohol. I haven’t had a drink since my accident.”
“Oh. Um, did it bother you when I had a drink at the engagement party?” Evan asked.
Jeremy shook his head. “I don’t have a problem with alcohol itself, but I don’t like mixing it with my meds. Plus, I spent enough time feeling out of it. Being drunk doesn’t have much appeal for me any more. Since a part of my accident was because of a drunk driver, I’m pretty fucking touchy about anyone driving impaired, but it would be hypocritical of me to judge what people do otherwise. I still use pot occasionally when my leg’s killing me and nothing else will take the edge off.”
“What’s it like?” Evan asked. “The pot, I mean.”
Jeremy shrugged, unsure how to describe it to Evan. “Mellow, I guess. Different than alcohol. At first, you physically relax, all the tension is gone. Mentally, you’re still clear, not fuzzy like being drunk. A clear-headed euphoria although it’s easy to get distracted when you’re high. It depends on a lot of things, though. It’s a little different for everyone.”
“Sounds nice,” Evan said.
“It can be.” Jeremy shrugged. “It’s good when I’m stressed, my leg is aching, and I’ve already taken the maximum number of pain pills. I wish they’d fucking legalize it and get it over with.”
Evan sighed. “I wish I had the guts to do half the stuff I’m curious about. I’ve been in Atlanta since February, and I’ve hardly done anything.”
“It’s not like there’s a deadline, Evan,” Jeremy pointed out. “You don’t have to do it all in the first six months.”
“I know. But is it asking too much to want to do something?”
“No, it isn’t.” Jeremy offered him a sympathetic smile. He had to bite back the urge to tell Evan he’d be happy to show him what being high was like. Because teaching the kid to smoke pot would lead to Jeremy wanting to teach him what sex was like, and that was a bad idea. Why he had to keep reminding himself, he didn’t know, but it seemed like he was never going to learn his lesson. He cleared his throat and changed the subject. “So, you wanna watch Six Feet Under, now?
“Sure.”
Watching the show through Evan’s eyes was better than when he’d watched it himself the first time. When Evan saw the first scene between David and Keith his eyes widened at the sight of two men kissing. Jeremy smiled to himself. Poor kid. Whatever the reason for it, Evan had lived a sheltered life compared to what Jeremy’s adolescence had been like.
“So what did you think?” he asked when the first episode was over.
“It’s good.” Evan almost sounded surprised. “And surprisingly accurate. I mean, the funeral stuff anyway. I don’t know about the rest.”
Jeremy chuckled and stood. “I’m gonna clean up the food before we start episode two, unless you want more?”
Evan shook his head, and Jeremy collected the pizza boxes, shoving them in the fridge and tossing the trash. It gave him a chance to stretch his leg out and move. Too much sitting was hard on him. He brought Evan another Coke and settled back on the couch, propping his left leg on the coffee table as he started episode two. Evan was quiet, but Jeremy found he didn’t mind it.
He had forgotten how the second episode started though, and he smiled to himself as Evan squirmed on the couch when David and Keith were naked in bed. Jeremy made a mental note never to watch Queer as Folk with Evan. Jeremy was pretty sure the rimming scene in the first episode would do Evan in. And maybe him too because the dynamic between Justin and Brian hit a little close to home. No, he definitely wasn’t going to be watching that show with Evan.
He didn’t think either of them would survive it.