The conversation moved on to me complaining about how I never hung out with Easton and Elio these days, but it somehow went into a broader discussion of dating and relationships.
With all of us together, it was impossible to have a long conversation on any one topic. Serious words were flipped on their head to provide a dirty meaning, and banter spiced up all the topics. My dating history seemed to be a dart game for them, sans Shane, and they took their aims and hits like a well-oiled machine.
“There isn’t much you haven’t tried to flirt with,” Easton pointed out, making me want to shrink into myself. Odd. Any other day, I would have beamed with pride.
“You can’t even turn it off for the librarian, and she’s nearing retirement,” Elio pointed out.
“I was being nice,” I said.
“You don’t know the difference,” Elio said.
“Remember when you flirted with that red-haired girl at the bar all night, went to the toilet before leaving, and invited her to your place on your way out?” Easton asked.
My face drooped with a scowl. I hadn’t realized this was the Roast of Patrick Callahan.
“Why is that funny?” Shane asked.
Easton laughed for a moment longer, then caught enough breath to say, “Because he picked up the wrong redhead and didn’t realize until they were in his room.”
“I was a little drunk, and she did me no favors,” I said.
“I feel like everyone’s like that around you,” Shane said. It wasn’t a tease, and I adored him for being on my side.
“Is that a professional opinion?” Jaxon asked.
Shane shrugged. “Sort of. You can’t not notice that people turn their heads after him. Some people just haveit.”
“Alright, that’s enough about me,” I said. “These two were adopted brothers before hooking up.” I pointed at Jace and Easton, a mean little smirk flashing on my lips and matching Jace’s fascinated gaze.
“It’s not a secret,” Jace said.
“It’s hard to go around it when people ask how we met,” Easton explained.
“And we spent the last seven years apart,” Jace said. “Those kids? They were nothing like us.”
“You sneaky little fuck,” Easton said with an impressed smile.
“What about you, Shane?” Jaxon asked. “Do you match his freak?”
Shane choked mid-sip and shook his head quickly.
“Cut it out, guys,” I said. “Shane’s too sweet for this table.”
“I don’t think he needs you to rescue him, straight guy,” Elio said. “Let the guy speak.”
“No, that’s alright,” Shane said. “I get tongue-tied. Um, Patrick knows this.”
The guys didn’t tease him for it, and I was grateful. We joked around for a while longer, and then Shane yawned and shrugged, saying he might have to leave. I realized it was midnight already. “I’ll walk you back,” I said.
“No, you don’t have to,” Shane said. “Metro’s just outside.”
“Sure?”
He chuckled. “Patrick, I can walk a few paces on my own.”
I scratched the back of my neck. “Right. Of course.” But worrisome images filled my head anyway. It was midnight, and we were downtown, and he had to go down underground.
I wanted to make up to him, too. I’d freaked out a little a few days ago, and I absolutely didn’t want to talk about it, but it felt like he wasn’t going to take my offers of cavalier politeness as an apology for my odd behavior. Whatever had come over me that evening was in the past. A momentary loss of focus, probably, that had knocked me off my game and tossed me into a weird fever dream. I was fine again.
