As we were kissing, he paused to look at me to say “yeah, we are totally dating other people” with a laugh and a wink.
I had a bad Friday afternoon . . . Dealing with some stress and tension from YM meant I released YM from going to a friend’s show. I’d initially invited FM, but I hadn’t heard back so a day later, I asked YM as a courtesy, assuming he’d say no. He said yes.
Then so did FM.
As YM and I argued — about work and life, we’ve officially split permanently, but we’re now very close friends and he’s working for me (I know, I know) — FM tried to confirm and everything just went to shit. I told YM to go hang out with other friends, told FM it was okay to do whatever, and went on alone.
Thanks to a snafu, I ended up extremely upset, calling YM to yell at him, and then calling FM and asking if I could join him.
He graciously agreed, directing me to an upscale restaurant. I spotted him, I thought, at the bar, but uncertain, I walked to restroom first, fixed lipstick, before confirming. He’d been having a rough day, so he said he’d decided yo take himself out on a date.
He told the bartender that he was buying whatever I was drinking and I finally settled on the house cocktail. We were friendly, but not intimate. I touched him a little, but it was very much a friend thing. We debated a bit whether to order more there ($12 mediocre cocktails seemed silly). I made a suggestion to a place where I have a hookup. Instead, we went to his preference, as I was essentially tagging along.
We walked maybe 10 blocks. I held his arm at times, but everything was just friendly. We grabbed two seats at the bar and I ordered water as he ordered a cocktail. It was freezing cold and we were on an unheated patio, facing each other on barstools. I was aware constantly of the fact that we had friend chemistry. He was rather closed to me, it appeared, but we were facing each other with my legs in between his. Eventually, I order my usual vodka soda and he gets a second and tells me I’m getting his next drink at the next place. Fine. Cute. Friends.
We start talking about YM, who he calls a very good friend. YM is the same to me. Essentially YM and I went out on three dates because he got sick and then his life went sideways and he decided he was not in a position to date anyone (he wasn’t), and whatever. It’s weird and I should talk more about it. Anyway, he knows me as YM’s friend, not YM’s girl. So we are talking about YM and whatever and we both check in using location based services. Different ones, but they both publish to our feeds. What this means is that I checked in at a bar I never go to, and within 30 seconds, so did FM. We giggled a bit about it, and within 2 minutes, I had a message from YM: “You and FM are both at Lounge Y. Purely coincidental.”
Yeah, we howled. We did. I asked FM, so what do you want me to say. He said, don’t reply. Let’s make him crazy. We were really cold, so we finished our drinks and walked across the street to another lounge that had a dj and a dance floor. I got our first round, as I’d told him I would, and we stood talking for a while until I spotted a banquette curved into the wall. Private and quieter than where we were, but also closer to the dance floor action.
We sat next to each other at the table, closer than necessary, and our chemistry was palpable. We talked about bar-hopping adventures and our age difference comes into play a bit. He is 6 years my junior. I know. And yet, older than YM. Heh.
So we’re sitting and talking and he orders another round at the table and the music is great. We both decide to again torment YM and publish our location. I say something about the place; FM says something about starting people talking. Immediately, both of our phones and our streams blow up. Not just YM, but YM was first, of course. Everyone is paying attention to the fact that we’re now obviously bar-hopping together. I am on drinks 3 and 4. He was already ahead of me. We are both getting quite drunk.
But it’s a party and people are dancing and having a blast, as are we.
At some point, I turn to him and kiss him. We laughed about it later, but I essentially made the first move though it was inevitable as we were glued together. So I kiss him and yeah, it’s just the most natural wonderful thing in the world. No awkwardness. No, what the hell are we doing. It’s just excellent.
He tells me he would have kissed me first, but he was trying to feel out how things were going.
We break from time to time, aware that we are in a club. And our texts and messages are still blowing up. He has his arm wrapped around me and he keeps his hand on my hip. He turns to me and says as we’re kissing, “yeah, we are totally dating other people right” and I am like right of course because we are. But we’re laughing because at this moment, this is the only place we want to be.
He said, as we watched our phones erupt that we had about 20 minutes before people found us. He was right. I was drunk enough at this point, though ambulatory and able to do simple math when I tabbed out, that I did not notice when two guys, friends of FM, walked up to our table. We were kissing, of course, and then were caught. To say it was embarrassing … well, yeah.
I excused myself for the rest room and texted a girlfriend to giggle about it, and then rejoined him. He excused himself and I glanced up as he was on his way back as he was getting hugged by two women. He was looking at me over their shoulders, and he did not bring them back to the table. He said, yeah those were my friends who were meeting me, let’s get the hell out of here.
We each tabbed out, and walked out so completely connected that we were wrapped around each other at the taxi stand. It was not yet 1 am. There was not really a decision made. He just told me we were going back to his place. No discussion, no debate, and I didn’t even think about it.