Page 21 of AJ’s Fire
“What the fuck color are your eyes, bro?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s what you want to ask me? They’re hazel.”
“They have like green and brown.” His face was so close as he explored my face, his legs sliding even closer so that our inner thighs touched. It was equal parts exciting and uncomfortable. “And is that orange? I guess I’ve never really …” He trailed off and kept searching my eyes. “I don’t even know how to describe them, bro.”
“You literally just did. And what you described was hazel.”
He ignored me as he pulled out his phone. “Can I take a picture of them to send to my dad?”
“Your dad?” I laughed.
“My dad, the poet. Fucking sonnets should be written about those eyes.”
There wasn’t a hint of romance in his tone. He’d leaned back and was holding a beer bottle pre-sip as he said it; running his fingers through his always slightly too-long hair. Our legs separated while my heart grabbed that sentence and wrapped itself up in it anyway.
I watched him sip his drink, imagining him whispering in my ear about my eyes instead. It did very funny things to my cock.
“What?” He’d caught me looking.
I shrugged. “Just tryin’ to find something to compliment you about.”
He spread his arms wide. “What’cha got?”
“I …” You’re beautiful. You’re fun. I love the way you love your niece and the way you complain about the rest of your family even though you have the same look in your eyes then as when you talk about Vera. I love when we joke and when we stumble home together. I love how we don’t need to talk when we work because we’re so in sync. I love the way the corners of your eyes crinkle when you smile because I love to see you happy.
“Your hair’s alright. Brown. Like the bark of a tree. Quick, write that down! Send it to Professor Gordon!”
“Dumbass.” He paused and looked at my eyes again like he really was taking notes on them. He narrowed his own before continuing. “I see what you’re doing.” Holy fuck, what could he see? I sat up straight and double-checked that my phone was face down on the table since I’d downloaded that fucking app again, with silenced notifications.
“What am I doing?” I tried to be nonchalant in my ask.
“You're distracting me from asking you what’s been up with you lately.”
“You are such a dumbass! It’s one hundred percent you that got distracted by my poetry-worthy eyes.”
“Oh, yeah. I guess so,” he admitted, then he just stared at me.
“Fine! Okay.” I huffed. “We’re doing this?”
“I worry about you, bro. I thought at first that maybe you were seeing Emily and didn’t … I don’t know, like, didn’t want to disappoint me or something.”
“Disappoint you?”
“Like, how you don’t want to be my wingman anymore. Are you seeing someone? Is that why you stopped hooking up? Stopped going out with me?”
“No, there’s no one. But lately, I have been feeling like maybe I want more.” It was tough not being honest with AJ; we pretty much had no boundaries in the things we talked about. Yet there was no way I could tell him I didn’t want to hang out with him because I was pretty sure I was in love with him, and because it had become too hard to see him with other people.
He waited patiently while I processed my thoughts, another trait I loved about him and another thing that was not helping my little crush. I landed on a version of the truth.
“I had, maybe have, a little crush on someone.” He opened his mouth, and I shook my head no. “Trust me, it doesn’t matter who, because they for sure don’t feel the same way. But the crush, it made me realize some things, like why I was hooking up so much, and why I maybe don’t want to anymore.”
We spoke over each other, but AJ let me finish.
“You could have …”
“I should have … Yeah. I should have told you. You’re my best friend, and I’ve missed hanging out with you.”
“You’re a good wingman, but you're my best friend. If it’s dinner and dance lessons, or real dates for New Year’s Eve, I’m there for you, bro. Bro code.”
