Page 46 of Your Only Fan
He snatches my hand and holds it between us. “It was fine while I was with Makayla. It probably helped me realize she’s a bitch and I was wasting my time with her. But! Now that I’m free as a bird, I don’t need any of that shit out in public and having potential girlfriends think I’m gay,” he says.
He looks way too serious, more serious than he’s ever looked when we go back and forth with these kinds of insults.
“Are you okay, hon? Do you need to talk? Vent? Punch?” I ask earnestly, but he just huffs as if I’m joking.
“I’m fine. It’s just… it’s been lonely,” he says and turns his back to me.
He always does that when he’s trying to stop himself from talking.
And I always know exactly what to do to get him to blabber.
I duck around him and face him again, grab him by the shoulders, and stare directly at him.
“What do you say? Should we go paint the town red? We can get wasted and get you a one night-stand, be it a woman or a man, and you can celebrate your singledom,” I say with a big, cheeky smile.
“Paint the town red? How old are you, man? Seventy?” He grimaces.
“Are you in or out?” I don’t wait for a response. “You’re in. Go on. Jump in the shower and go get changed.”
I swivel him around and push him off to the hallway, slapping his butt for good measure, and watch him get on with my instructions.
He’ll be okay. He’ll find someone amazing who will love him and cherish him for the man he is. I’m sure of it.
And so will I.
I’ll be okay.
No need to panic. I just need to tell Ezra how I feel, and who knows what may happen.
Maybe something like a “and they lived happily ever after.”
