Page 13 of Vodka And Virtue

“And after all of that, you're happy working security at the lounge? We don't even really have a need for it other than my uncle and cousin just being overly safe.”

“There's nothing wrong with being overly safe. You never know when you'll need an extra hand.”

“You aren't bored working at Limericks?”

I pulled up to a red light and turned to give him my full attention. “I’ve found a few beautiful distractions at Limericks that make me thrilled to show up every day.”

He gifted me with another one of his special smiles, and I felt as if I'd won the lottery. I could see that he appreciated the compliments and praise that I gave him. And I wondered if he had never received them before because they never failed to bring a little color to his cheeks.

“So you're happy to be home and working at Limericks. Is that it for you?”

“Actually, I started my own security firm when I came back. It's still very small, with only two employees, but I'm really not in a hurry to expand too quickly. The larger the company, the more responsibilities I have to carry on my shoulders, and after years of playing that game in the corporate world, I'm really looking forward to just taking it easy. Living the simple life.”

“The simple life,” he repeated. “And what does that look like for you?”

“Spending time at my home that I recently purchased, finishing the renovations there, riding my bike on the weekends with your uncle and your cousin, not working every day, taking the time to appreciate that there are other things in life besides work and money.”

“Like?” He seemed intrigued by my philosophy.

“Like a sunny day spent by the beach with a beautiful man.” Carlisle smiled, knowing I was referring to him. “Enjoying a nice dinner with the same beautiful man. Weekend getaways or a lazy day spent watching movies in my pajamas, cuddled up with the same beautiful man.”

“So you're looking for a relationship, then?”

“If I'm very, very lucky, yes. But not with just anyone.”

He raised his eyebrows, waiting for more.

“Someone I can trust. Someone who makes me laugh. Someone who wants to share their life with me every day.”

“Sounds wonderful,” he mused.

“Does it?” I searched his eyes, hoping to find the answers I knew he wasn’t ready to voice but was interrupted when the car behind me honked to let me know the light had changed.

But he remained silent, staring out the window.

I pulled into the parking garage across from the beach and jumped down in a hurry to get to Carlisle's door, but he beat me to it, stepping out just as I rounded the hood of the truck.

He realized what I was trying to do and became flustered.

“Oh, sorry. I, uh, didn’t realize.”

“This is a date, Carlisle. I’m treating it as such.”

He swallowed, breaking eye contact with me, and brushed past me without another word.

We quickly became invested in our task. A large group of volunteers were already hard at work when we arrived, and the cleanup was well underway. They handed us bags and a stick with grabbers on the end, like prongs, and asked us to walk the shoreline, collecting plastics and trash.

I’d been to the beach more times than I could count, and of course, I’d seen the trash, but it was easy not to see it as well. Not when I was having a day of fun and sun. Trying to relax and unwind my head. But now that we were here and focused on the mess, it was a larger problem than I had realized.

There was trash everywhere. Potato chip and snack bags, plastic cartons, and cardboard juice boxes. Empty bottles of suntan lotion. Deflated and popped rafts and tubes. A cracked plastic cooler. A wad of fishing line. It seemed as if people just didn’t care that this was an ecosystem, and not just a vacation destination.

Carlisle always kept several steps ahead of me, so that he wouldn’t have to linger at my side and make conversation with me.

So clever.

He set his bag down and stretched his arms above his head, basking in the sun that warmed his face. Then he settled his hands on the small of his back and arched his spine to stretch the kinks out. It was tough on your back being hunched over for so long. I stopped and stared, admiring the shape of him, long and lean, graceful.

I had only ever seen him fully clothed, but curiosity burned deep within my gut. What would he look like underneath? Was his skin smooth or did he have hair on his chest? Were his nipples pink or brown? Did he have an innie or an outie belly button?

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