Kimber and I get comfortable at the bar and sit back to listen to the band play for a while. I met Kimber around the same time I met Candace. She’s a wild chick but fun as hell. I tend to go out more with Kimber, although we aren’t as close as I am with Candace. I don’t think many people have the connection that Candace and I have.
After a couple beers and a round of pool, we find ourselves back at the bar as the band takes a short break.
“Jase, man, you made it,” I hear from behind me.
Setting my beer down, I turn and Mark has sidled up next to me. “Yeah, I’ve been here before. Never knew you played here.”
He nods at the bartender and then looks back at me. “Dude, we play everywhere we can get a decent gig. We’ve been here before, just not a lot.”
The bartender hands him a bottle of beer, and I catch myself staring as he takes a long swig. His build is similar to mine, so I know he must hit the gym as often as I do by the way his sweaty shirt is clinging to him. Damn. I take another sip and look down the bar at Kimber, who is scoring a free drink from a loser who thinks he has a chance with her. I laugh and shake my head when I hear Mark ask, “You here by yourself?”
“No, but she’s left me to sexually harass anyone she can,” I joke.
“My type of girl.”
Shit. I was wrong.
After taking another gulp of his beer, he sets his bottle down and cocks his head before saying, “If I was into girls.”
“No?” I ask for clarification.
Turning to lean his back against the bar, he looks at the stage as he says, “Nah, man.”
“Good to know,” I respond, and when he looks back at me, he gives a sexy side grin that lets me know he understood what I meant.
“So, you sticking around?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. We have one more set for the night.” He turns around and calls for another beer. When he gets it, he looks my way. “I’ll catch you after?”
“Yeah.”
He nods before heading back to the stage to join the rest of the band that is already up there.
Ever since I moved away from La Jolla and came to Seattle, I have been trying to figure out who I am. I was really confused before coming here, but after seeing the reaction from telling Candace and then Kimber, which was hardly even a reaction at all, I felt a huge boulder being lifted off my shoulders. Candace encouraged me to be myself and not hide while I was here. No one knew me, and it was a fresh start.
Putting myself out there was difficult at first. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing and always felt awkward. But I figure that is how most people are when they start dating, even straight people. Even though I screwed around a lot in high school, it was never what I really wanted. I barely felt anything, other than disgusted. I think I was more disgusted with myself for using all those girls. Now that I’m here, I’ve been more comfortable with myself. The misery that I used to feel back home isn’t so mind-consuming.
I’ve casually been with a lot of guys but haven’t found myself in any serious relationship yet. I have been having fun and enjoying college life, not taking anything too seriously. But watching Mark on stage with his guitar slung low on his body, working the fret board, I wonder what it is about him that makes me want to keep my eyes fixed on him.
“He’s fucking hot,” I hear Kimber say. I didn’t even know she had sat back down next to me; I’ve been so zoned out.
“Who?”
Rolling her eyes, she says, “Don’t be stupid. The guitarist you haven’t taken your eyes off of for the past five minutes.”
“His name’s Mark.”
“You know him?”
“We have classes together,” I say as I turn my attention back to him.
“Gay?”
“Uh huh.”
“Well that sucks,” she pouts, and I have to laugh at her.
“Only for you,” I playfully tease.
She nods her head as she continues to listen to the song they’re playing. They have a unique alternative sound and can clearly draw in a crowd. As they finish the song, Kimber turns to me while asking, “How much longer do you want to stay?”
“A while. I told Mark I’d stay to the end of their set. Why?”
“I’m a little tired. I think I’m just gonna grab a cab. It’s getting late.”
“You sure?”
Looking at me and smiling, she teases, “Yeah. I’m not gonna stick around and cock block you like you did me the other night.”
“You’re full of shit,” I laugh as I shake my head at her.
She smiles at me and gives me a hug before she heads out.
About a half hour and several songs later, the band is packing up their equipment before the next one takes the stage. Walking over to me, Mark hands his guitar case to the bartender who sets it against the back wall and then hands him another beer. He introduces me to Chasten, the drummer, who comes over to say bye before he leaves with the rest of the guys.
“So, are you from around here?” he asks.
“California. I grew up near San Diego. What about you?”
“I’m from Ohio. All my family is there. I just really needed a change of scenery, mostly people, so I came here.”
Nodding my head, I tell him, “Sounds like me, man. You go home often?”
“Try to. I have two younger sisters that I’m close with, so I like to get back there a few times a year to visit. What about you? Any brothers or sisters?”
“A sister,” is all I say. Mentioning her always brings a burn to my tightening throat. So, I leave it and move on. “You guys are pretty good. How long have you been playing?”
“We’ve played together for a couple years now.” He takes a swig of his beer and continues to talk about how the band got started and some of the gigs they have played.
Talking with him is easy and we casually go back and forth, getting to know each other. I’ve never really noticed his green eyes until now, not that I’ve ever had the chance to. We’ve had some classes together for the past three years, but our paths never crossed enough to allow for more than just brief interactions, but he’s sexy as hell.
After a while, we realize it’s getting late, so Mark grabs his guitar as we head out into the parking lot to leave. He walks over to his white Range Rover that is parked a few spaces away from my SUV. Following him, he slides his guitar into the back seat and turns to face me when I ask, “So, you got any plans this weekend?”
Shutting the door and leaning against his car, he says, “No, not really.”
“You wanna get a bite to eat tomorrow?”
“Yeah, that sounds good. Dinner?”
“Eastlake?”
I see a hint of a smirk when he says, “Sure.”
God, I want to kiss him, but for some reason I’m hesitant, so I don’t. We exchange numbers and say goodnight before I turn to my car. When I hop in and turn the key, a pang of anticipation hits me, and I wonder what’s different about this guy that is sparking this eagerness in me.
“So, who’s this guy you’re going out with tonight?” I ask Candace as she flops down on the couch next to me.
“Kaleb. He used to work at the coffee shop a while ago. We ran into each other the other day.”
“Hmm.”
She tilts her head at me and asks, “What?”
Candace is a serial dater. One date then she is done. She’s always been closed off with guys and never really cares enough to get to know them.
“I don’t know why you even waste your time.” I try and soften my remark by reaching my arm around her and bringing her closer to me.
“Honestly . . . I don’t know either.”
Kissing the top of her head, I joke, “I think you just like free dinners.”
We both laugh while we shift to lie down on the couch. I love this girl; I always have. I can share things with her that I never could with anyone else. She never judges.
Our physical relationship has always been a part of who we are together. We often sleep in the same bed, and I honestly think I give her something she has always lacked in her life—affection. I’ve never met her parents, but from what she has told me, they are pretentious assholes and have always treated her like shit. Although she dates a lot, I know I’m the only man in her life that she allows this affection from.