Chapter 4
It was the Wednesday before Pride. June was coming to an end. I waited at the counter, watching the front doors with anticipation every time they opened, waiting for him.
The sound of Morris's delivery truck was unmistakable. You could hear the smog belcher from a block away. Yet every time a person walked in, I craned my neck, searching to see if it was him. Like he'd just magically appeared.
Morris finally showed up right before my lunch break.Of course.Why would I think it would be any sooner?
He strutted in with a confident smile on his face. His teeth seemed to glisten, and his hair was golden blond. The summer sun had made him even more irresistible.
There was a difference in his demeanor. Each time he came in, he seemed a little more certain of who he was, or at least who he wanted to be.
There were two large boxes in his arms—our shipment of lube and condoms. We'd placed a double order in preparation for the busy Pride festivities, then the Fourth of July holiday that would follow a week later. He set the delivery on the counter.
I stepped out of the small box office and came around to the lobby. "How are ya, handsome?"
"Even better now." His eyes were warm and beaming with newfound happiness.
I took him into my arms and kissed him deeply. His familiar scents swirled around my head. Old Spice, sweat, and diesel on his skin. After smothering each other for a minute or so, I pulled away and said, "I can't get a room with you today."
"Oh." His face filled with disappointment. "Something wrong?"
"Not at all. There's just a lot of stuff I have to get ready for this weekend." I took his hands in mine. They were rough and callused but hot to the touch. "Could we get together tonight?"
His brown eyes searched deep in mine. "Where?"
"I was hoping maybe your place..."
He shook his head. "I have two roommates at my apartment, and uh, well... They don't know about me."
I felt sadness stab at my heart. Whatever Morris was—gay, bi, bi-curious—it was something people had to learn about him. Straight people justexist. There is no process of letting your friends and family know that you're straight. But for people like us, there was an extra element of pressure and stress. You have to come out, over and over and over again. You never really stop.
"Well, I would invite you to my place," I explained, "but I rent a room at this retired lady's house. She's cool and everything, but the walls are paper-thin. It might be kind of awkward."
"No, I get it," Morris said.
"Hey, let's just meet back here," I offered.
"Your boss won't mind?"
"Nah. I'll be off the clock."
Morris's face brightened. "Okay, that would work. I just need to stop by my place first and shower. I'm a sweaty mess by the end of the day."
I twined our fingers together and leaned close to his face. "I don't mind when you're sweaty."
He blushed. "I appreciate that, but the afternoons are really hot. I'll feel gross."
"There are showers here." I was getting greedy. I wanted all the time I could get with him before the insane weekend ahead. Waiting for him to go home first seemed like wasted time we could be spending together.
"Okay, you win." He shook his head and laughed. "I'll come here right after work. It should be about 5:30 if traffic isn't too bad."
"It's a date."