Page 66 of Tell Me Lies: Manlove Edition

“You, too.” She slips away between the tables, leaving Robin and me alone. This time, she didn’t add, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do…”

We sit in odd silence for long minutes, looking around at anything and anyone but each other. Latino music fills the quiet between us. Laughter arises from a neighboring table. The dark of night settles in the narrow streets, along with a creeping chill.

I don’t know how to make the first move. I don’t even know what I want—a lover? How is that going to work if I’m employed by a rabid influencer bent on conquering the world of social media, while the man who now owns my heart is touring city after city doing street performances for a living? I grind my teeth, this situation is so difficult. What are the options? Not to engage in a relationship with him? Ugh, that would undermine my resolution to stay off the booze, I know it. To resume my life with a self-absorbed Mira-Me and not have anyone else to keep me up, will send me down the drain. I shoot him a tortured glance.

He meets my look and reaches across the table. “We’re going to be okay.” His dark-green gaze shines in the low light of the terrace.

I accept his warm hands and twine my fingers with his. “I’d like to believe it, but how?” My voice sounds plaintive, and I hate it.

“How long are you going to stay in Spain?”

“I don’t know. For now, I have a one-year contract with Miss Celebrity, which ends in a month or so.”

“Are you going back to the US after?”

I shrug. “Don’t think so. Got nothing there holding me back.”

“No family?”

“I have no siblings and pretty much no relationship with my parents.”

“Why?”

“Oh, it’s complicated.” I let out a deep sigh. “We were an ordinary family until I went out with Kathryn, and my parents didn’t like her for some reason. Maybe ‘cause she was outgoing and liked to have fun, while they’d hoped for a more serious daughter-in-law. I had to protect my marriage, so our relationship with them turned sour. My kiddo practically didn’t know them.”

Robin frowns. “That’s sad.”

“Then when he got sick, suddenly my mother sorta woke up and became my liaison to the rest of the world ‘cause I was too exhausted to do it myself. Except she spammed me with texts every day, pushing for information about his scan results and such when my angst level was already sky-high, so I ended up telling her to give me space. Which of course she didn’t like, so she started back-talking me and my wife. Then when the kid died, she stopped talking to me altogether. It’s like there was nothing left between us.”

“I’m so sorry.” Gaze blurry, he rises from his chair, leans over the table, and pecks my lips.

I close my eyes and savor the intimate gesture. He knows exactly what to do when I need it most. I return the sweet kiss and ask him, “What about you?”

He sits back on his chair and runs a hand over his face. “Me? I was adopted at birth. Went in and out of institutions ‘cause I was a ‘difficult child’. Was saved by the circus people, who became the family I’d never had. There’s the story of my life in three sentences.” He pauses, drawing a deep breath. “But my brothers and sisters are spread across the world now, so to answer your question, I have no one. Except Lola, who lives here, and I don’t see myself leaving her anytime soon.”

“You two have a strong bond.”

“We’re ‘twinsies,’ like Mira-Me would say. But we’re not lovers.”

At that, we hold each other’s looks. We are two orphaned, grown men who know what we have in our lives, what we risk losing, and how much we can gain from taking a chance.

His face breaks into a goofy clown smile. “C’mon, let’s do something about it.”

Chapter Seven

The Spanish like their fiesta and they know how to party. Pulsating music and cheerful laughs accompany us as we wander hand-in-hand through the dark streets of the Old Town. The scents of food, beer, and cigarette smoke permeate the air.

It’s such a good feeling, to be with someone. I’ve had a few fleeting relationships after my divorce, but nothing involving romance. Loneliness is a treacherous friend, and in my case, it conspires with my nemesis the liquor. Not tonight, though. Tonight, my soul is singing.

We walk by stone buildings from medieval times, ghostly shadows in the night, their arches and spires silhouetting against a star-sprinkled canvas of blackness and eternity. I could feel at home here and anywhere in the world so long as I’m with someone able to make my pulse beat a wild cadence in my veins.

I’m acutely aware of Robin’s presence by my side, my body sizzling and on edge. I don’t know what the rest of the night has in store for us, but from his lighthearted enthusiasm and easy gait, he’s not about to abandon me anytime soon.

“I’ll show you where we were supposed to perform this evening,” he says, as if reading my mind. “It’s an old theater. About this way, I think.” He tugs on my hand and leads me through a narrow, unlit alley. Our footfalls echo between walls. At the bottom, a dome appears before us, wide as a circus tent and a bit alone in the dark. The moon rises over the city, slowly casting white light into the maze of streets and revealing the theater entrance: a double door framed by two Greek pillars underneath a banner. “Shall we have a look?”

I ask, “It must be closed, no?”

“I’ve still got the keys to a side door.” He turns to me with a grin, the moonlight complimenting his handsome features. His angular chin, strong nose and cheekbones, generous lips, and in place of eyes, deep-green glass marbles mirroring his soul.

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