Page 24 of You Were Mine

“Don’t worry about it. My father can handle it.” Brandon reassures me, and after a long pause, “Do you love him back?”

“I don’t know,” I admit. “I never considered that he might still be harboring romantic feelings for me, so I guess I just sort of put him in some sort of ‘off the table’ box. Now, I don’t know.”

“Well,Ilike you a lot,” Brandon said, “And I’ll admit that you’re someone I really would like to date and maybe have a long-term relationship with. But… if you think you might like Logan, maybe you should see where that goes. There’s a lot to like. He isnotan unattractive man.”

“Now,thatI do know,” I reply. “Anyone can see that.”

“Well,” Brandon says, “Stay in touch, okay?”

“Did I ruin your evening?”

Brandon winks. “Not at all,” he says. “I’m just going to go back into that room. What about you?”

“Back home,” I reply. “I have some things I need to talk through with Logan.”

“I can imagine. Good luck!”

I nod. As Brandon leaves, I watch him close the French doors and give me a bright smile and a wink, then turns, disappearing into the sea of black tuxedos. This feels right. With his warmsmile through the door window, all my confusion and muddled thoughts seem to shift into a sharp, crystalline clarity.

Chapter Nine

Logan

Icurse MovieFlix’s very existence as I stare at the buffering symbol. As much as I pay for cable, and this thing has theaudacityto buffer? Without breaking contact with the accursed screen, I pop a Reese’s into my mouth. I totally messed things up with Mark tonight. What an idiot I am! I won’t blame him at all if he moves in with Brandon tonight. A key turns in the door lock, and I am shocked. I hadn’t expected Mark to be back so early, but he walks in all the same. “What are you watching?” he asks.

“Nightmare on Elm Street.”

“Which one?”

“The gay one.”

He snorts. “I don’t know what’s worse, you referring to the secondElm Streetmovie as ‘the gay one’ or that Iknewexactly which movie you were talking about,” he says.

“Guess you’re spending too much time with me.”

Although time spent with me is time not spent with Brandon. I really need to stop thinking that way. I am a grown adult and need to get my head on straight.

ButfuckingBrandon.

The man has to havesomeflaw: a criminal record, a string of disappeared ex-lovers, or a freaking giant zit somewhere awkward.

“I’m sorry I ruined your date.” I finally say.

“I know you are,” he replies. “I was all right. Brandon was gracious enough about it. Besides, he was trying to be helpful and he helped me network. To be honest, I did feel out of place there. I think I should have prepared better. I had this wild idea that all I had to do was dress nice and talk.”

“It didn’t work that way?”

“They were playing chess; I was playing checkers.”

I smile to myself. Poor Mark is absolutely terrible at both of those games.

When Mark plops onto the sofa beside me, I pass him the bowl of candy. “Trick-or-treaters, huh?” he asks.

“To be fair, I must have had at least a handful of them before I decided to crash the gala,” I reply.

“I swear,” he says. “That you made it on your own before me is incredible.”

“Now, let’s not go attacking each other’s diets,” I reply, “Dorito’s are a breakfast food.”

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