“So, what you’re saying is, you made it back to the car before you noticed I was gone?”
“Not the point.” Kimmie playfully rolled her eyes. “But if you’re going to disappear like that, just give us a heads up, okay?”
“Sorry if I made you worry,” I replied. “I was just hanging out with Morgan.”
“You were hanging out with Morgan? Our wedding caterer?” Dirk asked as he came around the corner. He was holding an apple in his hand, about to take a bite. “Why?”
“Yeah. Why?” Kimmie asked, her tone lined with suspicion.
“What? Two people can’t just hang out?” I shook my head. “Morgan’s a pretty cool guy. You should try getting to know him.”
“Oh, yeah? What were you two doing on this little hangout of yours?” Kimmie pressed.
“We just walked to one of his favorite stores, and then we had some really good sandwiches for lunch,” I answered, skipping over a few details. “Nothing major.”
“Is Morgan gay?” Dirk asked, his mouth full of apple.
“Dirk!” Kimmie shrieked.
“What?” Dirk seemed confused. “I thought being gay wasn’t a big deal anymore.”
“It’s not, but you don’t just ask like that.” Kimmie scoffed. “Besides, how would Harrison know something like that, anyway?”
“I think he might be?” I guessed. “I don’t know. I don’t know a lot of straight guys who wear nail polish to work.”
“First of all, straight guys totally wear nail polish to work,” Kimmie corrected me. “Get with the times, big brother. Men can be pretty, too.”
“Okay, but if he is gay…” Dirk wondered. “Would you two hanging out be more of a friend thing? Or more of a dating thing?”
“Goddammit Harrison!” Kimmie nudged me in the arm again. “I swear to God, if you lead Morgan on—”
“What? I didn’t even do anything!”
“It doesn’t matter! I don’t want Morgan getting hurt and calling off the catering for our wedding,” Kimmie warned. “Morgan is basically the best caterer in the city and he’s the only one willing to work with us so last-minute. If we lose our caterer, our wedding is going to be a disaster, and it’s going to be all your fault.”
“I don’t know if that’s fair, Kimmie—”
“It’s going to be all your fault, Harrison!”
“Okay! Okay!” I sighed. “I get it. I’m not going to ruin your wedding, okay?”
“You better not,” Kimmie warned again before she calmed down. “What kind of sandwich did you have for lunch?”
“A Cuban.”
“Ooh, a Cuban sounds really good right now.” Kimmie’s tone was wistful as she turned toward Dirk. “Dirk, sweetie, do you think we should order some Cubans for dinner?”
“Sounds like a plan, princess.”
“Dude. Gross.” I grimaced. “That’s my sister. Can you two maybe save the pet names for when I’m not around?”
“Nope!” Kimmie exclaimed, playfully patting me on the shoulder.
I wasn’t going to go to The Femme Fox.
I was going to stay at Kimmie’s place for the night, relaxing on the couch, not letting another thought of Morgan cross my mind. I figured that if I didn’t show up to the bar tonight, then Morgan would get the hint that I wasn’t interested.
The only problem? I was interested. I was so interested that I hadn’t stopped thinking about him since I’d gotten back from lunch. I was so interested that the mere thought of Morgan thinking that I wasn’t interested was enough to unnerve me, so much so that I’d hastily gotten dressed and headed out Kimmie’s front door.
I’d decided to take an Uber to the bar, unsure of where I was going. I wasn’t a fan of traveling around at night in an unfamiliar city, since looking like a lost tourist was a good way to get treated like one by people who were out to steal wallets or bust car windows. But when I first slid into the backseat of the Uber, the driver took a moment to look at me in the rearview mirror.
“The Femme Fox?” the driver asked. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. It’s just a bar, isn’t it?”
“Sure. My partner and I go there all the time,” he continued. “But I’m not sure it’s the place for you.”
I noticed a rainbow flag out of the corner of my eye, prominently displayed on the driver’s dashboard. I quickly put two and two together.
The Femme Fox must’ve been a gay bar. And the driver, assuming that I wasn’t gay, was trying to keep me from visiting. I understood the driver’s hesitation, especially with the way straight guys had historically treated gay men.
But I wasn’t like that.
“No. It’s the right bar,” I replied. “I’m meeting up with a few of my friends.”
“Oh. Sounds good.” The driver seemed to relax as he pulled out of the driveway.
And as we drove through the city, I tried to think through what exactly I was doing tonight.
I wasn’t gay.
So, why was I rushing to meet up with a man who was probably hoping that I was? Why did I like the idea of Morgan being turned on by me? Why did I want to be the one who turned him on?
I leaned my head against the window, letting out a huge sigh.
None of that mattered.
I couldn’t hook up with Morgan, even if I wanted to, even if he wanted to. I couldn’t risk things going south and ruining Kimmie’s wedding. I couldn’t let my own selfishness overtake my sister’s big day.
And so, in the backseat of an Uber ride, I decided that I was going to The Femme Fox to let Morgan know that I wasn’t interested.
Even though it felt like the biggest lie in the world.
3
Morgan
“Why aren’t you drinking?” Taylor asked as he took a sip of his strawberry margarita. “Not in the mood for a margarita?”
I was sitting at a table at The Femme Fox, with Taylor and Avery on either side of me. We’d been here for half an hour, and they were halfway through their first pitcher of margaritas.
“Hmm. That doesn’t sound like Morgan,” Avery joked, resting his head against my shoulder. “Bad day at work?”
“No. I’m just not ready to start drinking yet,” I admitted. “I’m… waiting on someone.”
“Waiting on someone?” Taylor smirked. “And just who are we waiting for, Morgan?”
“Yeah! Who are we waiting for?” Avery moved away from me as he reached for the margarita pitcher. He poured himself a drink before he asked, “And how cute is he? On a scale of one to ten?”
“Ten. Morgan only dates tens,” Taylor answered for me.
“I actually don’t adhere to the numerical system when it comes to guys,” I interjected. “It seems barbaric.”
Avery gasped. “Oh my God. Morgan doesn’t want us judging his new guy based on his looks.”
“That must mean you like him a lot,” Taylor said before he sipped at his drink. “How’d you two meet each other, anyway? Dating app?”