I pop my lips after applying red lipstick and smile in the mirror. Tonight’s the big night. I’m excited but also nervous. Everything should be fine. I check my purse to make sure I’ve got mints, my phone and car keys. Perfect.
I park in front of the club and adjust my flowy, blonde hair while looking in the rearview mirror. It looked fine when I checked at home, but I want to make sure that not a single strand is out of place. My shoulders rise and my chest expands as I inhale a deep breath. I exhale and inhale again. My heartbeat has gained momentum, and I feel my mouth dry up.
I pop a mint into my mouth and let it swirl around to refresh my breath. I’m not taking chances on anything. Every part of me has to be immaculate. I’ve waited for tonight for so long, and it has to work out. It just has to.
The hostess escorts me to the booth. I smile as I walk towards Dean, holding the gift. He’s toasting with his buddies, and he looks at me and smiles. I step up and enter the VIP lounge. Dean throws his arms around me and kisses my cheek.
“Happy birthday,” I say, holding up the wrapped gift.
“Thank you. You didn’t have to.”
“Of course I did. You always get me a gift for my birthday. It’s only fair.”
“Do you want me to open it now?”
“Yes.”
He unwraps the ribbon and then pulls out the transparent box. His eyes widen and his lips part as he holds it up.
“I couldn’t get you the real thing, so this was the next best thing,” I said.
“Oh, my God. I don’t know what to say. How did you get a hold of this?”
“I tracked down a huge James Bond collector online and managed to convince him that you would appreciate this car more than he would. He laughed, but I made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.”
It was a toy model of the Aston Martin DB5. Dean loves that car, and the major difference with this toy is that Sean Connery, Pierce Brosnan and Daniel Craig autographed it.
Dean curls his lips and shakes his head. “I can’t believe this. It’s the best gift I’ve ever gotten.”
“I’m glad.”
He throws his arms around me again and kisses my cheek twice. Making him happy is all the satisfaction that I need. He’s such an amazing guy, and I’m thrilled to have him in my life.
I greet the rest of the gang, and we party the night away. My eyes drift to him often. Whenever I think about going for it, my heartbeat pounds against my chest and my mind comes up with an excuse to delay it. No, I can’t. Tonight’s the night. I’ve been waiting for this for far too long. I have to come out with it.
I down a double vodka with cranberry juice, trying to settle the nerves. It works slightly. I go to the bathroom to inhale a few more deep breaths.
In the mirror, I check my hair and makeup again. Those are still fine, but my heartbeat has gotten completely out of control. Maybe this is my heart’s way of telling me I should go for it. I’m sure it’s a sign.
I plod back to the VIP section and gently grab Dean’s arm. He looks at me, and I smile. He leans into me, and I say in his ear, “Can I talk to you in private for a second?”
“Sure.”
We walk towards the bouncer standing in front of the V-VIP balcony. I tell him that we need only a few minutes, and we’ll be out. He unhooks the red rope from the stanchion and lets us in. I’m glad that it’s empty.
I smile as I grab Dean’s wrists and pull him towards me. “Sorry that I pulled you away from everyone,” I say.
“It’s not a problem. What’s on your mind?”
I look at his chest and inhale a deep breath. “This isn’t easy for me to say. I thought about whether or not I should bring it up, and I decided that I have to tell you.”
“Okay. What is it?”
“Dean, we’ve been best friends for years, and I cherish our friendship more than anything. I cherish you. You’re an amazing guy. But…” I look down and gulp and then make eye contact again. “…I’m in love with you.”
His smile vanishes. He keeps looking at me as if I’ve just sworn at him. What is he thinking? He pulls his arms towards him, and I let go of his wrists. His gaze drops to the floor as he steps back. I want to step towards him, but I feel that I shouldn’t. It could scare him away. He looks beside him, turns his back to me and then walks away.
A few seconds ago, my heart was beating wildly. Now, it feels like I don’t even have a heart. I’m completely numb inside, almost like I’m dead. I don’t know what to think, but I know that I feel nothing but emptiness. It’s the worst feeling ever.
I’m completely stunned by his reaction. He didn’t even utter a single word. Nothing. He just walked away like I was some ugly girl who spoke to him for the first time and asked him to dance. This is my life at stake, not just some mild crush. How could he be so callous? It’s like he was disappointed that I professed my love for him.
The more I thought about what just happened, the heavier the emotional toll weighed me down. I couldn’t take it anymore, so I squeezed my eyes closed and sputtered cries as my shoulders trembled. Tears slid down my face uncontrollably.
Standing in that spot served as a repetitive reminder of what just happened. I have to get away. I run towards the bouncer, and he quickly lifts the red rope. Some people look at me as I run through the dancefloor, tears still streaming down my face.
In the corner, by the entrance, there’s an empty table. Nobody’s around it, so I feel that it’s the best place to regain my composure before leaving. It’s bad enough that the people on the dancefloor saw me weep. I don’t need the long queue of people outside to see me at my worst.
I sit, my elbows resting on the table and my palms covering my face. Somebody sits next to me, and I look and say, “Oh, no. I’m not in the mood for this,” thinking that he was going to hit on me.
“Tell me what pigs men are,” he says, smiling.
“Oh, I can tell you all about it.”
“Go ahead.”
I look at him for a few seconds, contemplating if I should share my story. He’s a stranger, so he’s not going to judge me, and I might feel better by getting it off my chest.
“I told my best friend that I’m in love with him.”
“Okay. And how did he react?”
“He looked at me like I was crazy and then just left.”
“How long have you been friends with him?”
“For five years. We’re going to colleges in different states, so I thought I’d tell him in hopes that we would somehow remain together.”
“Did you give him any hints that you were interested in him romantically prior to tonight?”
“No.”
“You have to look at it from his perspective. He’s viewed you as his best friend for years. Now, all of a sudden, you tell him that you’re in love with him. You caught him off guard. He doesn’t know what to make of it. The poor guy is confused.”
“I didn’t look at it like that.”
“Don’t let his reaction put you off. Keep trying. For all you know, he’s also interested in you but doesn’t know how to express it. You have to give it a little push. He’ll open up, eventually.”
“I don’t know. The way he reacted hurt me.”
“What’s going to hurt you more is losing the love of your life. Don’t let your ego stand in the way.”
“Thanks. I don’t even know your name.”
“Mike.”
“Thanks, Mike. I’m Layla. I appreciate the advice. You’re a star.”
“It’s my pleasure. Take my number if you need to talk.”
Talking to Mike gave me hope that Dean could feel the same way about me. I feel better. I walk out of the club and go to my car. Dean needs a day or two to take in everything before I speak to him.
In bed, I think about how it would feel to be with him. We could have picnics, watch movies at home and have sex. Yeah, that sounds great. Something tells me that he would be great in bed.
I picture him grabbing my thighs while I’m lying on the bed and parting my legs. He’d fiddle with my clitoris while wagging his tongue on my pussy in every direction. I’d raise my head off the pillow to look at him and then drop it and arch my back as he continues the licking.
After licking my pussy for some time, Dean would get on top of me and stick his dick inside me. He would breathe heavily into my ear while bobbing up and down. My pussy would get wetter, and I would dig my nails into his back from the hard ramming he would give me.
A few loud screams would shoot out of my mouth. I would beg him to keep going and never stop. Of course, I’d want him to cum so he can get me pregnant, but he can save the shooting for later.
Then, I’d lie on my stomach, and he would put a pillow under it so that my bum is perched up. He’d lie on top of me and give it to me while kissing my shoulder and running his hand down my leg.
The intimacy would be more than sex. It would be a love-making session to express our love for each other and the irresistible attraction we have for each other.
To finish me off, Dean would demand that I get on my hands and knees. He would kneel behind me and give it to me from behind. He’d grab my shoulders and thrust hard and fast. I would sputter screams, trying to catch my breath. My face would be flushed and covered with sweat from the steamy session.
Eventually, I would drop my head and scream my lungs out as I orgasm. Dean would slow down and rub my back. As I raise my head, he would continue the hard pounding, eventually cumming inside of me.
Oh, wow. That would be incredible. I can’t wait for that. Mike is right. I have to go after the man I love. I’m going to miss out on so many great experiences if I don’t do it. We have a chance to build something really great, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make it come true.
The following day, I look at my phone several times, desperately wanting to call Dean. I decide against it, as he might still have a hangover. He needs a bit more time. I’ll call him tomorrow.
I can’t wait to talk to him. I’ve got a good feeling about it. He’ll come to his senses, and I’m certain that he will feel the same way about me if he gives me a chance. Maybe he already does but doesn’t know it. That’s why I have to nudge him a bit.
During lunchtime, the following day, I pick up my phone. As my finger hovers over Dean’s name, my heartbeat speeds up. It feels like his birthday celebration all over again. But he already knows how I feel about him, so I’ve got nothing to lose. I press dial and hope for the best.
“Hello,” he says.
“Dean, hi. How are you?”
“Hey. What’s up?”
“I was hoping we could talk in person. I know I laid a load on you the other night, and I wanted to discuss it. Are you free to meet up now? We can grab a bite.”
“All right.”
We meet at our favourite burger joint. I’m glad that he’s not so upset with me that he never wants to see me again. That’s a good start. But I have to give things a little nudge.
“You know that I would never want to do anything to make you feel uncomfortable,” I say. “It’s just that I’ve felt strongly about you for a long time, and I didn’t know how to express it. I thought if I told you how I felt that you may feel the same.”
“We’ve been friends for so long, Layla, and you dumped this news on me out of nowhere. I’m sure you can understand why I reacted the way I did.”
“Of course. I’m sorry if I made you feel weird and possibly ruined your special night. That wasn’t my intention. I just wanted you to know how I felt.”
“Okay. Fine.”
I smile at him for a few seconds, uncertain of what to say next. I’m treading carefully, but I can’t leave things as they are.
“How do you feel about me?’ I ask.
He looks at me for some time, with a deadpan expression. He reclines and inhales a breath. “I don’t know. Give me some time.”
“Okay. No problem.”
A week has passed, and I still haven’t heard from Dean. Surely he would want to tell me how he feels about me?
I call him. “Hey, you.”
“Hi, Layla.”
He doesn’t sound happy. I ask him if anything is wrong, and he tells me that he’s fine. But it sounds like he’s dragging the words out of his mouth. I didn’t want to be too pushy. It doesn’t sound like he’s in the mood for it.
I wish him a good day and then think about the conversation for the rest of the day. I’ll give it a day or two for him to cheer up.
Two days later, I call. The phone keeps ringing, and I eventually hang up. I’m sure he’s busy. He’ll call back.
He didn’t. What is going on with him?
We’re a week away from going to our respective colleges. I don’t want to carry on with my life without knowing how he feels about me. If there’s the slightest chance we can be together, I’m going to push for it. I’m sure he feels the same way about me. He just doesn’t know how to express it. I’ll have to get it out of him.
I call again. No answer. I can’t believe this. Maybe something has happened to him. He could be hurt, and he needs me.
His phone rings again, but no answer. Now I’m really worried about him. I send a text to tell him that he should contact me urgently.
Two hours pass, and he hasn’t gotten in touch with me.
What do I do? I call a few of our mutual friends, and all of them tell me that they spoke to him recently. They said he’s fine and they don’t know why he hasn’t answered my calls.
Now, I feel even worse. He doesn’t want to talk to me. Maybe he doesn’t know how to express himself. What if that’s not it?
I continue scrolling through my contacts and see Mike’s name. Hmmm. Maybe I should call him. He might be able to help me.
“Hi, Mike. It’s Layla.”
“Hey. How’s everything?”
I catch him up on everything that happened with Dean. “So, what do you think?” I ask.
“Go after him, girl.”
“You really think so?”
“Give it all you’ve got. Be on his case. He needs to know that you’re crazy about him. If you need to be pushy, then be pushy. What have you got to lose?”
“Maybe my best friend.”
“Nonsense. Go for it. Keep badgering him.”
The only way I knew how to get in touch with him was in person. Dean works at a clothing shop, so I decided to wait for him after work.
He steps out, and I approach him, smiling. He looks at me, shocked. “What are you doing here?” he asks.
“I wanted to see you. You haven’t answered any of my calls.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Okay.” I know that’s a lie. I add, “How is everything?”
“Good.”
One-word answers tell me that he doesn’t want to talk. I need to get straight to the point. “Dean, I wanted to know how you felt.”
He scratches his forehead and puffs his cheeks. “Let’s talk about this another time,” he says and then turns to walk away from me.
I grab his arm. “No, don’t go. Tell me how you feel.”
He rolls his eyes. “Please, leave me alone.”
“I can’t. I need to know how you feel about me. Please.”
“I’m not going to get into this with you now.”
He turns his back to me and walks away. I scuttle after him and intercept him by getting right up in his face.
“Tell me how you feel, Dean.”
“Jesus, Layla. What the hell is the matter with you?” He raises his voice.
“Tell me.”
“Oh, my God. Leave the hell alone, bitch. I’m not into you.”
His words pierce my heart. I can’t believe what I’ve just heard. “Why not?”
He steps to the side, and I get in his way again. “Layla, get out of the way.”
“Just tell. I need to know.”
He attempts to dodge me by going to the other side, and I intercept him again. “Get out of the way.”
“No, tell me.”
“You really wanna know?”
“Yes.”
“I’m gay. There, are you happy now?”
A few minutes have passed since Dean left, and I’m still standing in the same spot, frozen. I don’t think I’ve even blinked. I can’t believe what just happened. The man I’m in love with is gay. How is this possible? After putting myself out there like an idiot and buying him an expensive gift, this is how it turns out.
I can’t remember how I got home. I slump onto my bed and bawl my eyes out. My stomach feels like it’s turned upside down, and I can’t even feel my heart beating. I’m emotionally beat up like never before.
Three days later, I’m walking out of a supermarket, and I spot Dean with some guy. I can’t make out who he is because I can see only the back of his head, but he looks familiar.
I follow them to the parking lot, and the guy with the black hair tilts his face to the right. My mouth slacks open, seeing that it’s Mike. What the hell is he doing here? Something feels off about this whole thing.
I gulp and then approach them. “Hi.”
They turn around. Dean looks surprised to see me, but Mike is smirking. I hate the way he’s looking at me.
“How do you guys know each other?” I ask.
They look at each other, and Dean says, “We’re friends.”
The smirk on Mike’s face tells me there’s more to the story. “Mike, you wanna tell me what’s going on?”
“Dean and I hooked up at a gay bar a few weeks ago, but he wouldn’t come out of his shell. When I ran into you at his birthday party, I knew that you were the perfect decoy.”
“For what?”
“To get him to admit to being gay so that he and I could finally be together.”
“So your strategy was for me to badger Dean until he got so fed up with me that he’d confess his sexuality?”
His smirk broadened, disgusting me even more. “Exactly,” he says.
“Instead of telling me, when you met me, the truth so I can feel better and not waste my time chasing a man who’s not interested in me, you used me.”
“Oh, come on, doll. Don’t take it so seriously.”
POW! I slap the smirk right off Mike’s face. He presses his hand against his cheek, his mouth wide open.
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