Page 24 of This or That
I inwardly curse the devil that’s been screwing with my head from time to time. The one time that the fool gives it a rest is when Mike’s near… but not tonight. Why?
Sighing as discreetly as possible, I glance at the hot piece of man next to me and will my hunger for him to subside so that my eyes won’t betray my true intentions. If they linger for too long, Matteo might notice. I can’t do that to Mike, although I long for his dick to be in my mouth, like it was right before we got here. Mike isn’t quite his usual self either. His body language is more stilted than usual. Maybe he’s getting used to the idea of having me around his friends. I need to remember to ask him later; there can’t be any secrets between us regarding this particular issue. Whatever it is, he remains unconscious of my inner turmoil. Maybe accepting the invitation here was a bad idea.
“What are the odds that you two became friends?” Mike and I exchange a fleeting glance at Matteo’s question and shrug in unison. I’m thankful when Matteo doesn’t push the issue, but adds, “What perfect timing! I had no idea that I’d meet Monster Hunter in the flesh while here on business.” His voice is edged with excitement. Mike bounces from one foot to the other, pretending to dance to David Guetta’s latest hit, even though he loathes electro. “I should have known that July in New York would be brutally hot. Luana doesn’t mind, but I do!” He fans himself dramatically, and we talk about the difference between summertime in New York and the Tuscan countryside.
“And you, my traveling friend, remember your Italian summers so well.” They exchange a knowing look.
“Touché.”
“At least, it gave me an excuse to see you guys again.” He and his friend high-five.
“After you ditched us and flew home early, you mean?” Matteo snickers. “I can’t believe you did that…” Mike’s eyes stare at his feet, then back at his friend. In the blink of an eye, his beautiful face becomes devoid of any emotion. How did he do that? “And all in the name of New York pussy, when I thought you had all you could handle in Brazil!” He winks at Mike to underline his comment, then swirls his tongue inside his mouth, forming an obscene lump on his cheek. Turning his attention to me, Matteo shrugs. “Pardon my French, Monst—.”
“Please, Matteo, call me Troy; at least until I’m on stage. My alter ego will take it from there.” He nods.
Mike’s rushed response comes out a bit too vehemently. “That’s absolutely not what it was about, man.”
“Right! We Italians know when sex is in the air.”
My face falls. He does have a point; Mike’s busted like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar… Only he’s telling the truth. He fled to meet me, and I’m no pussy.
See, no need to overthink this. I meant enough to him to cut his trip short. He even came to the airport for Christ’s sake! Well, I wish that my friend with benefits would tell the entire truth, but now is not the time.
Eager to redirect the conversation, I bombard the newlyweds with questions about this Park Avenue gem that they found on Airbnb and will rent through the end of the year.
“Honey, don’t you think Mike and his friend are thirsty? They’ve been standing here since they arrived because you’re monopolizing the conversation.”
“Fair point well made, my love. Excuse my shitty manners. Your presence is messing with my head.” Matteo’s addressing me, but the weight of Mike’s stare isn’t lost on me. I wish that Matteo would chill out; despite my passion and the exposure it brings, I’m an introvert. “Thanks for making this the best birthday party ever!” With that, he engulfs me in a friendly hug, and I stiffen in surprise. When he releases me, he leads us to the kitchen to get a beer. I don’t comment on the fact that bottles of all types are displayed on a nearby table. I realize how parched I am when I take a much needed swig. Due to the awkwardness of my presence, my “friendship” with Mike, my number one fan.
Matteo clinks the bottom of his beer bottle with mine, and we drift back to the living room that’s officially been converted to include a makeshift dance floor. Then, he thanks me again, insisting that I add a certainje ne sais quoiwhile we eat sliders from the impressive catered buffet. My lips curl upwards at Matteo’s comment, knowing it’s useless to argue. Lost in my thoughts, I shiver. Not from his flattery. Not from the cold. But from Mike’s fingertips brushing my wrist.What on earth?His intimate gesture contradicts how I was introduced. “No need to be modest. You are Monster Hunter after all!” Flashing me a supportive smile, he pats my shoulder blade. “So anyway, Troy, how did you two guys meet?”
Fuck, I wrongly thought that he’d forgotten about this line of questioning.
“Didn’t Mike tell you?”
“Actually, he said something that didn’t quite make sense. That’s why I’m asking you.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, dumbass.” Mike gives Matteo shit about his assumption. It gives me the necessary reprieve to gather my wits.
“And what did Mike tell you?” Somehow, I doubt that Mike confided about the angry—and hungry—kiss that started this. What isthisanyway? I can’t find the right label. Who am I to blame Mike for it, then?
“Something about you bumping into each other and him having no clue who you were. I mean, come on!”
“Well, that’s exactly it, Matteo. That’s how Mike and I becamefriends… Right, Mike?”
“Would you two stop talking about me like I’m not here?”
Without looking his way, I address my bi-curious “friend” nonetheless. I should probably give Mike a break. We’re not dating. I’m not interested in a relationship. He’s not prepared to come out after a few weeks... So what’s the big deal? I’m full of contradictions and so is he. What a perfect match! I chase the troublesome thought away, returning my focus to how his mixed signals rub me the wrong way.
Must be why I can’t help but tease the poor guy. “Nah, it’s way too much fun, man.” Matteo agrees wholeheartedly. “And just so you know, ourfriend,Mike, here did recognize me.” I pin him with my stare. “Right, Mike?”
He grumbles, which I enjoy more than I should; I love teasing him in more ways than one. From the way his eyes narrowed when I said “friend” twice, I know I struck a nerve, similar to when I said “man.” But then again, “baby” is reserved for behind closed doors.
Thoughtful, I shrug. “ You know, Matteo, sometimes life gives you lemons.” Like shitty parents who throw you out of your own home because they can’t accept the way you are; I digress. “But along the way, good things happen and sometimes you end up being right were you were supposed to, making new friends.” I elbow Mike to force him out of his torpor. What’s gotten into him now?
At that, Matteo bites out a bitter laugh, his eyes on Mike, who follows his lead. Furrowing my brows, I try to read between the lines of their unspoken words without success. “So, yeah, we bumped into each other.” I repeat in a whisper, enjoying the irony and accuracy of Matteo’s phrasing since Mike and I keep bumping into each other willingly, even though I’d rather bump him harder.
“It’s hot in here, isn’t it?” Matteo’s question amuses me. I have no doubt that he noticed my reddening face when that thought crossed my mind.
