Fic - It Starts With A Rose [2/3]
Dec. 12th, 2011 10:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
arcadianmaggieSummary: The first time Andrew stumbles across Jesse's Flowers, he's looking to send his girlfriend flowers for her birthday.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
“What on earth are you doing?” Carey asked, looking over Andrew’s shoulder at the web site detailing a long list of Bizarre Holidays, ones for almost every day of the year.
“What? Nothing,” Andrew replied, quickly clicking the browser closed with a guilty look on his face, as if he’d been caught watching porn.
“Yes you were. You were totally checking out flower buying opportunities, weren’t you?”
“No I wasn’t,” he denied.
“You so were.”
“Was not.”
“Were too.”
This could go on indefinitely; Carey was a persistent little thing. Andrew capitulated. “Well so what if I was?” he asked defensively.
“I knew it!”
His shoulders slumped. “I can’t help it,” Andrew said, a hint of a whine in his voice. “It’s been six days since I saw him. Six days, Carey! That’s almost an entire week!”
“You don’t say.”
“Oh shut up,” he laughed at her teasing. “You’re a terrible friend. You should be commiserating with me, or at least helping me find excuses to see him.”
“You don’t need excuses to see him. Just… go see him. I thought the whole coffee thing went well. At least that’s how it sounded from the way you’ve been raving about it for the past six days.”
That was all the opening Andrew needed. “It did go well. He’s so easy to talk to. I know we’ve just met, but I feel like we’ve known each other forever. And he’s charming and funny—”
Carey cut him off, “And intelligent. And his eyes are so blue…”
Andrew looked sheepish. “Yes, well, clearly you’ve heard me talk about all this before.”
“Clearly.”
“I know, I know. I’m being ridiculous. But there’s something about him. I think I could seriously fall in love with this man. I can see us getting married and living in a house together and going shopping and cuddling on the couch watching reality TV…” he trailed off, feeling the back of his neck growing hot as he anticipated Carey’s reaction to his confession.
“Dear Lord you have it bad. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this way before.” Carey studied him thoughtfully. After a long moment she said, “Pull up that web site again. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Andrew did a little fist pump chair dance and let out a quiet “yesss,” before turning back to the computer to strategize.
-o-
“And what brings you to Jesse’s Flowers today?” the man himself asked when Andrew entered the shop.
You, Andrew thought. You, you, you, always you.
“I’m here for some flowers.”
“What a coincidence.”
Andrew smiled and felt as if this was their own private little joke. He refused to think about whether Jesse had used this shtick with anyone else before.
Jesse stepped out from behind the counter, asking, “Who are the flowers for this time?”
“These aren’t actually from me,” Andrew replied. “I’m doing a favor for a friend. You remember me talking about Justin, and his throat surgery?”
“Ah, yes. Your old band mate.”
“Ha. I promise I am not harboring a secret boy band background.”
“I still find it hard to believe. Especially with that hair…”
“My hair is awesome.”
“If you say so.”
“I do. And so do my legion of screaming teenage fans.”
“I knew it!”
They were both laughing at their ridiculous conversation. Jesse’s smile caused something in Andrew’s belly to glow warm and bright.
“All right, then… Justin?” Jesse asked once their laughter subsided. The warmth remained.
Andrew was about to answer when he felt something soft against his calf. He looked down to see a small calico rubbing against his leg.
“What have we here?” he asked, crouching down to inspect the small cat. It purred loudly when he scratched behind its ears. He looked up, trying not to notice how his face was eye level with Jesse’s crotch, to ask, “Who’s this?”
“That’s Erica Albright. She sometimes likes to help out in the shop.”
“You gave your cat a last name?” Andrew found this absurdly charming.
Jesse rubbed the back of his neck and gave a little embarrassed shrug.
“She was a stray. It seemed like the thing to do.”
“I like it,” Andrew said decisively. If Jesse’s smile was any indication, he had said the right thing. He gave the cat one last scratch saying, “It was a pleasure to meet you Ms. Albright,” before standing back up.
“So… the flowers?” Jesse asked.
“Right. Yes. Well, it’s like this. Justin isn’t allowed to speak for weeks, because of the surgery, to give his throat time to heal. And today is National Scrabble Day, which is a special day for him and his girlfriend, since they play the game together all the time. So he thought it would be nice to send some flowers to do a little speaking for him, since she’s on location, and he can’t really talk on the phone. You know, to let her know he’s thinking of her.
“I told him I knew just the place—a shop where the flowers are more verbose than he could possibly imagine.”
Jesse smiled appreciatively. Andrew tried not to stare at his dimple.
“Here, you’ll enjoy this,” he added, reaching into his pocket to pull out a folded piece of paper. “He even wrote a poem to be included.”
To Jessica:
It’s National Scrabble Day
And I just wanted to say
That I think of your smiles
When I’m choosing my tiles
The way you balance your rack
Now that’s bringing sexy back
I couldn’t love you more
You’re my triple word score.
Love, Justin
Andrew took advantage of the opportunity to study Jesse’s face as he read Justin’s verse. He watched delightedly as his expression went from curious, to horrified, to amused. When Jesse chewed on his bottom lip to bite back his smile, Andrew stared, fascinated.
“It’s easy to see how he became a multi-platinum selling songwriter,” Jesse finally said, deadpan.
“Quite,” Andrew agreed seriously.
-o-
A familiar sight greeted Andrew as the bell to Jesse’s Flowers rung, announcing his arrival—the object of his affection seated on a stool behind the counter, laptop open beside him. His face lit with a smile when he caught sight of Andrew, and Andrew hoped it was a smile for him, personally, and not simply his standard customer smile.
“You’re getting to be a regular.”
“Now that I know how to say it with flowers, I don’t want to say it any other way. Really, I had no idea it was such a complex art.”
“It does have a long tradition and well-documented history.”
“I’m beginning to understand that.”
“What can I help you with today? Another errand for the silenced Mr. Timberlake? Did he give you some Parcheesi poetry to woo his lady love?” Jesse may have placed extra emphasis on the ‘cheesy’.
Andrew tipped his head back and laughed. “Ha. That was a terrible pun.” His reaction and wide smile would argue he thought it was anything but. “No, nothing like that. This one’s actually from me.”
“Delivery?”
“Yes. I’d like to send a nice plant to the animal shelter near my neighborhood, something to brighten up the place.”
“Oh?”
“After I left here the other day, I was thinking about your Erica Albright and how lucky she was to have you. You said she was a stray, right?” Andrew wished for a moment that he had been taken in by the lovely Jesse and allowed to sit on his lap, and be stroked by those capable hands.
“Yes, that’s right.”
“I started wondering about all the other animals that weren’t so lucky—no homes, no scratches behind the ears, scrounging for meals. And then later that evening I flipped on the television to watch some Animal Planet, and there was Sarah McLaughlin singing Arms of an Angel. You know the song?”
Andrew hummed a few bars, slightly off-key, until Jesse cut in, smiling, “Yes, I’m familiar with the commercial.”
“Right. Well, I somehow found myself down at the shelter the next afternoon, intending to make a donation, but ending up volunteering half the day in addition and promising to return, schedule permitting.”
Jesse was staring at him with a look on his face Andrew couldn’t decipher.
“Erica Albright inspired you to volunteer at an animal shelter?”
Andrew’s brow furrowed. “In a manner of speaking, yes. Their little furry faces are hard to resist.”
“That they are,” Jesse agreed.
“In any case, I thought it’d be nice to send the regular volunteers a ‘thank you’, especially as this is Pet Owners Independence Day.”
“Is it?”
“That it is.”
“By all means, let’s pick something out,” he said, motioning to the refrigerated cases.
“What about that one,” Andrew asked, pointing to a flowering plant in a nice looking pot.
“You definitely don’t want that one; the leaves are toxic to animals.”
“Oh dear. Not exactly the message I was going for. This is obviously a job for a trained professional.”
“You’re in luck; there happens to be one close by.”
“How fortuitous,” Andrew said, and felt a shiver of delight when he was rewarded with Jesse’s beautiful dimpled smile.
Once the plant was selected and paid for, and the address taken down, Andrew stood at the counter, drumming his fingers nervously, while he worked up his courage.
Taking a deep breath, he let the words tumble out.
“So, apparently, the point of Pet Owners Independence Day is to let the pets take over and fill in for their owners at their jobs while the owners have a bit of freedom. Do you think Erica Albright would be willing to mind the store while you took a coffee break with me down on the corner?”
Jesse looked up in surprise.
“Oh…well… um…” He seemed flustered.
“If you’re too busy, that’s all right. It was just a thought. I enjoyed our last conversation,” he cut in, disappointed.
“No… it’s…. uh…yeah…” Jesse stammered another moment before taking a breath and closing his mouth, gathering himself.
“Erica has a little trouble managing the cash register, but if you hold on just a moment?” He held up a finger as he walked to the swinging door marked Employees Only.
Andrew smiled and nodded eagerly.
He heard Jesse asking someone in the back if they would mind watching the front while he went out for a bit. He assumed the answer was yes when Jesse came back smiling, untying the apron he had on over his clothes.
“Coffee it is,” Jesse said.
-o-
This was it. National Take A Chance Day. He was going to go down to Jesse’s Flowers and ask Jesse on a real date, one where Jesse knew it was a date and not just two friends having coffee.
That’s not to say the last time they had coffee hadn’t gone well. Because it had. Swimmingly, in fact. They had talked about Erica Albright, how Jesse found her in the alley behind his building, a tiny little thing, all dirty and scared. How he set out food for her day after day until she stopped running away every time he opened the back door and finally allowed him to pet her. How he befriended the little calico slowly, gaining her trust until one day, as he turned to go back into the shop, she had followed him inside. She hadn’t left since.
Andrew had told him how much he wanted a pet, but with his schedule it wouldn’t be fair to the animal.
“We always had cats and dogs growing up. There’s something about a pet that makes a place a home. Do you know what I mean?”
Jesse did.
“I’d love to have one here, but when I’m lucky enough to have a job, sometimes I’m away months at a time.”
The rest of their conversation had flowed smoothly and easily. There was a comfort between them, and he felt as if he could tell Jesse anything. Anything at all.
Except, of course, that he was falling head over heels and wanted to jump his bones.
As he approached the shop, his nerves set in. He felt a small amount of pressure since it was also Lover’s Day, and he didn’t want to get his hopes up too high, afraid he wouldn’t withstand the crash if things didn’t go as planned. But then again, National Zucchini Bread Day was also being celebrated—although he wasn’t sure where—so he supposed they balanced each other out. Andrew was skeptical about some of these holidays listed on the web site, but if they could help him win the charming Jesse, he’d lend his complete support.
The bell rang as he opened the door and he looked eagerly to the counter to find… not Jesse.
“Can I help you?” a pretty red-haired girl with a raspy voice asked.
“I was looking for Jesse. Is he in back?”
“No.” She made a sympathetic face. “He had some meetings today. Wait,” she cocked her head. “You’re the actor. Andrew.”
“Yes, I am.” He approached the girl and held out his hand. “Andrew Garfield. Pleased to meet you.”
“Likewise,” she said. “Emma Stone.” She held onto his hand, examining his face closely. “I have to say… you’re much cuter without the mullet.”
He pulled away from her grip so he could cover his face with both hands. “Oh no,” he groaned, “That’s a terrible movie. Did you really watch it?”
She laughed. “Jesse and I watched it last night. All the way to the bitter end. And that’s a true testament to your fine acting skills and pretty pretty face.”
Andrew felt a cold spike through his heart, even though her words were teasing and complimentary. What did she mean that she and Jesse watched it last night? Was there a ‘she and Jesse’? He told Carey Jesse might not be gay.
He pulled his hands away from his face and watched Emma closely as he asked, “Do you and Jesse watch movies together often?”
She appeared to be watching him just as closely as she responded. “Every now and then. Especially when there’s an actor he’d like to check out.”
What did she mean ‘check out’, Andrew wondered? He would never understand women.
“Does he… check out actors often?” God, what in the world was he doing? He needed to get out of there before he made an even bigger fool of himself.
“Not especially,” Emma responded, still studying him thoughtfully.
“That’s good. That’s good,” Andrew muttered to himself.
“So was there anything I could help you with? Some flowers maybe?”
“What? No, not today, I don’t think, but thank you.”
“You know,” Emma said, “the flower shop has a web site where you can order online. That way you don’t have to drive all the way to the shop. Our customers really enjoy the convenience.”
Andrew frowned. Was she warning him away from Jesse? He felt as if they were having an entirely different conversation under the surface, but he had no idea what she was saying.
“I don’t mind coming down here. And this way I can actually smell the flowers. You can’t get that online.”
“No, no you can’t.”
“Well, it was nice meeting you, Emma. Can you please let Jesse know I stopped by?”
“Oh, you can just bet I will,” she said, with an emphasis that made Andrew nervous.
What on earth did she mean? “Right. Thanks then.”
-o-
“I’m telling you, she was totally checking you out as Jesse’s friend, to see if you were good enough for him.”
“How on earth could you possibly know that?”
“Because I’m a girl.”
“Sometimes I think your kind is an entirely different species.”
Carey climbed on his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck, tucking her head under his chin.
“Darling, you’re completely hopeless.”
“But you love me anyway.”
“Of course I do.”
Andrew gave her a squeeze, hoping she was right. In any case, he was going to take a step back and revert to his previous method of strategically timed flower purchases and coffee invitations. Take A Chance Day obviously wasn’t for everyone.
-o-
“World Penguin Day?”
“Penguins made me think of tuxedos which made me think of formal occasions, and every formal occasion needs flowers, don’t you agree?”
“Indeed.”
-o-
“I thought for sure I’d see you here on Wednesday—Star Wars Day and National Candied Orange Peel Day.”
Someone had obviously been surfing the web.
“I couldn’t make it, unfortunately. Had a meeting with my agent.”
“Oh? How did that go?”
Andrew made a so-so motion with his hand. “Not sure yet. I’m up for a part that I really really want, but I don’t think I’m going to get it.”
“Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
“So what’s the occasion today?”
“National Public Gardens Day. I thought you might want to go for a coffee to celebrate.”
“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” Jesse said from behind the counter.
“Why’s that?” Andrew asked, disappointed.
“We’re celebrating No Pants Day in the shop today.” His eyes twinkled with mischief.
Andrew barked out a laugh, face flushing.
-o-
“Let me guess… You’re here for Iris Day.”
“You would be wrong. After the No Pants surprise, I thought for sure you’d be up for No Socks Day.”
Jesse laughed. Andrew would never get tired of seeing those dimples appear.
“Let me just tell Erica Albright I’m running out for bit.”
-o-
“National Sea Monkey Day? Really?”
“They’re a bowl full of happiness.”
Jesse smiled.
“And,” Andrew added, “It’s Love A Tree Day as well. Trees made me think of plants which made me think of flowers…” which made me think of you, he finished in his head.
“Andrew,” Jesse started, then stopped what he was going to say. He chewed his lower lip.
“Yes?” Andrew prompted.
Jesse took a deep breath then looked at him with bright blue eyes. Andrew’s knees felt weak.
“You don’t have to keep finding obscure holidays to come visit, you know.”
“What? I’m not—”
The rest of his comment was quelled by Jesse’s knowing look.
“We could just, um, hang out.” Jesse stumbled a bit over the words. “I mean,” he added quickly, “if you wanted to.”
“I’d like that a lot. Of course I want to.”
“You do?”
“I really do.”
Jesse’s smile was breathtaking.
--o--
Andrew and Jesse soon settled into a routine, if you could call Andrew stopping by the shop at random times on random days—though more days than not—and stealing Jesse away for coffee, or lunch, or a beer after closing, and the occasional dinner, a routine. Erica Albright, it turned out, was amenable to watching the shop at all hours of the day. Andrew suspected Emma had more to do with Jesse’s scheduling flexibility than the calico, but who was he to argue?
Even though Carey insisted Emma was only Jesse’s friend, Andrew couldn’t help but feel him out, just to be sure. How could Carey actually know, after all? The argument, “because I’m a girl,” wasn’t terribly convincing. He chose a time when they were out for a beer, hoping the alcohol would relax his nerves and loosen Jesse’s tongue. Not that he needed any more reasons to be thinking about Jesse’s tongue; he already thought about Jesse’s mouth far more often than was probably healthy.
“I stopped by your shop one afternoon when you weren’t there. I met your Emma.”
Jesse gave a short laugh. “Don’t let her hear you call her that.”
“Oh really?” Andrew liked the direction this conversation was going already.
“She mentioned you stopped by. Said she gave you a little bit of a hard time.”
“Not really.” Jesse shot him a look. “Well, maybe just a little.” Unkind thoughts about the pretty red head started filtering through his mind.
Jesse smiled. “She really liked you.”
Andrew sat up in surprise. “She did?” All unkind thoughts fled his brain immediately.
Jesse laughed at Andrew’s reaction. “She did. She’s an actor too, you know.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Yeah. I’m probably going to lose her soon. She’s much too good to be working in my flower shop.”
“That’s too bad. For you, I mean. Not for her, I suppose.”
“I’ll really miss her. It means I’ll have to get used to somebody new, and she’s always so great at dealing with people. She handles most of the bigger events now. I’ve got a few other employees who are pretty good, and I’m sure I can train them to take over for her, but Emma’s the best. She doesn’t take shit from anyone. And the customers all love her. I suppose I’ll have to start dealing with more of them myself again once she’s gone.”
Andrew chose to focus on the business side of the conversation rather than Jesse’s glowing praise of Emma. He could wish a fellow thespian success. He wouldn’t even allow himself to consciously tack on the part where he was especially happy for her success if it meant she would be spending less time with Jesse.
“I would imagine that’s the worst part of a job like yours—dealing with all those customers.”
Jesse looked up, focusing his bright blue eyes on Andrew, a soft smile on his face. Andrew’s stomach swooped. “I don’t know. Sometimes it’s not so bad.”
-o-
“What’s wrong?” Jesse asked when Andrew showed up at the shop one day near closing time. His entire demeanor projected dejection.
“I didn’t get the part,” Andrew answered.
“Oh. I’m really sorry to hear that.”
“I need something stronger than coffee. You’re taking me out for drinks, so I can drown my disappointment in copious amounts of alcohol.”
Jesse smiled at his presumption and gave him an awkward, sympathetic pat on his shoulder.
“I can do that.”
“You’re a good friend,” Andrew said in a serious tone.
Jesse looked up, a slightly surprised expression on his face. His cheeks pinked. Andrew smiled at him and gave a small laugh.
“Well, you are.”
Jesse smiled back, looking pleased. “Just give me a few minutes to get everything closed up, and we can go.”
“Can I help?”
“No. Thank you, but it won’t take me long.”
Jesse disappeared in back and Andrew heard low voices. He wandered around the shop aimlessly, reading the tags next to the flowers in the cases, the various items on the walls. Slightly bored, when Jesse didn’t return right away, he wandered behind the counter to where Jesse’s laptop always sat. He expected to see the shop’s online ordering site, but instead, a text document was open on the screen. He leaned over, intrigued, reading a few lines, then reared back in embarrassment when he heard Jesse returning.
“I’m sorry,” he said, flustered when Jesse halted in shock at seeing him behind the counter. “I was just being nosy. I didn’t touch anything, I swear.” He held up his hands as proof.
Jesse recovered quickly. “That’s fine,” he said, moving around Andrew to close the window on the open document and shut the laptop down. His shoulders were tense.
“No, really, I’m so sorry. I usually have much better manners. I promise to stay on this side of the counter from now on.” He jumped around to the customer side in a dramatic fashion, watching in appreciation as the corners of Jesse’s mouth quirked into a small smile.
“It’s fine,” Jesse said. “Really. You’re not just some customer. We’re friends, right?”
Andrew’s wide smile lit the entire room. “Right. Yes. Friends. We certainly are.” And if he had his way about things, they would be much, much more.
-o-
“It’s not that it was even a big part, or even a big film,” Andrew slurred some time later, having followed through on his plans to drown his sorrows. Jesse had been surreptitiously moving a water glass in front of his hand periodically, trying to keep him hydrated. Andrew obliged, taking a large swallow, thinking, even in his inebriated state, how thoughtful the action was. “But the role spoke to me. I just really wanted it.”
Andrew groaned, rubbed his face with his hands, then pushed the bottles out of the way so he could lean down and bang his forehead against the table. After the third bang, he folded his arms and lay his head down, groaning again before letting out a large sigh. “Ugh, I’ll be unemployed forever,” he mumbled into his arms. “Maybe I should just give it all up and get a real job. Are you hiring? I could be one of your drivers. I obviously can’t be trusted with the arrangements, what with almost poisoning cats and pledging eternal love to psychotic pyromaniacs.”
“Andrew—”
“Hmmm?” Andrew opened one eye and turned his head to peer out over his arms. Jesse’s shoulders were shaking in silent laughter.
“I don’t think you have anything to worry about. You’re an incredible actor. Any director would be lucky to have you.”
“Of course you’d say that. You’re playing the role of sympathetic friend to the disappointed loser tonight.”
“Not at all,” Jesse assured him, still smiling. “I’ve seen your work and you’re amazing.”
“You must really be feeling sorry for me if you’re calling that horrible movie with Justin and the mullet amazing. Now I know I’m doomed to failure.”
Jesse laughed and Andrew wasn’t feeling so drunk or disappointed that he couldn’t appreciate a good dimple showing. His misery was worth it if it could elicit that kind of reaction from Jesse.
“I’ve seen more of your work than that.”
Andrew sat up abruptly, his head clearing. “You have?” he asked curiously. “What else have you seen?”
“Um… well…” Jesse fidgeted. “All of it?”
“You did?” Andrew’s mood immediately lifted. He could barely feel his face, but he suspected it was sporting an enormous stupid smile.
Jesse rubbed the back of his neck. “I did.”
“Oh. Well, that’s… that’s… oh.” The feeling was returning to his face and he thought his cheeks might split from the grin he couldn’t contain.
“So you should believe me when I say that you’re incredibly talented. Okay?”
“You’re not just saying that because you’re afraid of my driving, are you?”
-o-
“Whoa, careful there,” Jesse said as he helped Andrew navigate the stairs.
“Are you sure you don’t mind? I can catch a cab,” Andrew slurred.
“I don’t mind. I’d rather you stay here tonight; otherwise, I’d just worry about you getting home safely.”
“I could text you.”
“You’re already here. Whoops. Careful.”
Andrew leaned into Jesse, enjoying the feel of his body pressed against his side.
“You’re a good friend, Jesse.”
“So you’ve said,” Jesse replied drily.
“Ah. Have I been repeating myself? Carey always says I tend to do that when I’m totally pissed.” Jesse ignored his rambling.
“All right, here we go,” Jesse said, leading him to the couch. He helped Andrew sit down and watched with amusement as he tried to kick off his shoes.
Rolling his eyes, Jesse directed, “Stop. Give them here.”
Andrew leaned back on the couch and lifted his feet up, waving one in front of Jesse’s face.
Jesse snorted and grabbed his ankle, then sat on the couch by his feet, pulling them into his lap while he untied the laces. Once he removed Andrew’s shoes he asked, “Can I get you some clothes to sleep in?”
Andrew started unfastening his belt and then his pants, tugging them down his hips.
“Just help me off with these.”
Jesse hesitated, then rolled his eyes as Andrew twisted on the couch, trying to get his pants down his long legs, laughing when he tumbled off the couch and landed on the floor with a thud.
“Ouch,” Andrew said.
“Hold still. Give me your feet.”
Andrew raised them obediently and Jesse tugged the hems, pulling Andrew’s jeans off, keeping his eyes averted from the black boxer briefs as they were uncovered.
As Andrew climbed back up on the couch he asked, “Will you still respect me in the morning?”
Jesse snorted. “That implies I respect you right now.”
Andrews collapsed in a pile of gangly limbs and hysterical giggles while Jesse looked on, bemused. “You’re quite funny, Jesse,” he finally choked out.
Jesse gave him an indulgent smile. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
He returned in a few minutes with a glass of water, a couple of Tylenol, and a pillow and blanket tucked under his arm.
“Take these,” he instructed, handing Andrew the glass of water and tablets before tucking the pillow behind his head.
“The bathroom’s right down the hall. First door on the left. Do you think you’ll be sick? I can get something to keep by the couch, if you think you’ll need…”
“No, I’ll be fine, but thanks.”
“Okay. Here’s a blanket if it gets too cold. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Thanks,” Andrew mumbled as he curled up on the couch, tucking a hand under his chin.
“You’re welcome.”
As Jesse started to leave the room, Andrew’s hand shot out and grabbed at his fingers.
“Jesse?”
“Yes?”
“Did you mean what you said? You really think I’m good? You weren’t just saying that to make me feel better?”
Andrew was already drifting off, so he wasn’t sure if he imagined it, but he could swear Jesse’s fingers tightened on his own, his thumb rubbing gently across the top of his hand.
“No, I wasn’t just saying that. You’re incredibly talented. I… I think you’re absolutely amazing.”
Andrew hummed softly as Jesse returned his hand to its spot by his chin. The last thing he heard as he slipped into sleep was Jesse’s soft voice saying, “Sweet dreams, Andrew.”
--o--
“Carey, you have to help me,” Andrew begged, his voice tinged with desperation. “If we go on like this much longer, I’m afraid I’m going to end up stuck in the friend zone for all eternity.”
“How is that possible? Haven’t you been seeing him almost every night this week?”
“And last week, and the week before, and for ages before that. But nothing’s happened.”
“Nothing’s happened?”
“Nothing’s happened.”
Ever since Andrew had woken up in Jesse’s flat, hungover and alone, and not wearing any trousers, he had kicked himself that he hadn’t had the presence of mind to at least try and kiss Jesse the previous evening. After all, he’d had the excuse of alcohol, not to mention emotional distress, to fall back on if things had gone terribly wrong.
Of course the thought had crossed his mind the night before—several hundred times, in fact, especially every time Jesse’s full pink lips wrapped themselves around the mouth of his beer bottle. And every time he smiled. And every time he opened his mouth to speak, or looked at Andrew with his gorgeous blue eyes, or just sat there looking all scrumptious and delicious. But Andrew hadn’t wanted their first kiss to be while he was sloppy drunk and emotionally needy. He wanted their first kiss to be special and sweet, and maybe a little bit dirty (or, okay, a lot dirty), and he wanted both of them to be fully aware of what was happening between them. Because, indeed, something would most definitely be happening between them.
Now he was left wondering if he’d ever get to kiss Jesse at all.
They had certainly grown closer to each other. Jesse was no longer a charming bit of mystery with a love of cats and a biting wit. Sometimes Andrew felt he knew Jesse almost as well as he knew himself. He had taken advantage of having Jesse’s flat to himself that first morning, smiling at the glass of water and headache medicine left out for him atop a note written in Jesse’s scratchy handwriting stating that he should come downstairs to the shop when he was awake and they could go grab some coffee, and to make himself at home, and he had left a fresh towel out if he wanted to take a shower, and tempting as it was, he had not hidden his pants and they were folded on the back of the couch. A smile quirked at his lips at that last part.
Surprisingly, Andrew hadn’t felt too bad that morning—a slight headache, a little upset in his stomach. Nothing the pain tablets, coffee and some greasy hangover food wouldn’t cure. He took advantage of Jesse’s offer to use his shower and felt not the slightest bit of guilt poking through his medicine cabinet, sniffing his shampoo once he was under the spray, imagining what Jesse’s soft curls would smell like.
After he was dressed, he nosed around the flat, taking in the shelf after shelf of books, full of an eclectic assortment of titles, from history, to Russian humorists, to classics, to modern thrillers. He perused the artwork on the walls—a collection of old maps in similarly aged wooden frames, several movie posters in more modern presentations, some original paintings and sketches.
The kitchen was bright and cheerful, with a few dishes in the sink. A mat on the floor held two white bowls, one filled with water and the other with cat food. Noticing the writing on the sides, Andrew leaned down to get a better look. One said, simply, “J’acccuse!” and the other was adorned with a quotation by Mark Twain: “Good friends, good books and a sleepy conscience: this is the ideal life.” Jesse had never seemed the type to own novelty items, but for some reason, these suited him. Andrew deemed them aptly appropriate for a cat named Erica Albright.
Taking the famous humorist’s words to heart, Andrew decided to peek into Jesse’s bedroom, a room which he had originally resisted entering. Like the rest of the flat, it was neat and tidy and similarly decorated, with another old map above the bed and more books along one wall. A few framed photographs rested on the dresser alongside an assortment of coins, scraps of paper, and a few paperclips. The bed was covered in a plush blue comforter. Andrew tried not to imagine how the bedding would bring out the color of Jesse’s eyes were he lying there naked. Before he could get carried away with his thoughts, he exited the bedroom and headed down to the shop to thank Jesse for his hospitality.
The details of the interior of Jesse’s home weren’t the only insights he had gained into the life of the adorable flower shop owner. Over coffee one afternoon he had discovered the most interesting fact about Jesse to date. They had had numerous conversations about books since their very first meeting where their common interest had been established. As they conversed, the discussion somehow moved to the topic of electronic publishing. Andrew was reminded to finally ask about the story he had caught a glimpse of on Jesse’s laptop the day he had been caught behind the counter.
“So that story you had open on your computer that day… What were you reading?”
Jesse blushed, taken off guard. Andrew was intrigued, not to mention charmed by the flush in Jesse’s cheeks. His hands itched to touch the skin and feel the heat beneath his fingertips.
“What?” Andrew pressed. “Was it porn or something? You’re blushing.”
Jesse laughed, rubbing the back of his neck, ducking his head sheepishly.
“No, it wasn’t porn.”
“What then? Why are you embarrassed? Was it teen paranormal romance? A former boy band tell all?”
“No, nothing like that.” Jesse laughed softly, his face still tinged with color.
“The reality can hardly be worse than my imagination then, can it? C’mon. Fess up. What were you reading?”
“I…uh… I wasn’t exactly reading anything.”
“You weren’t?” Andrew asked, puzzled.
“No. It was something… something I was writing.”
Andrew’s eyes lit up. “Really? That’s fantastic. I didn’t realize you wrote. Have you had anything published?”
“I’ve had… some success,” Jesse admitted.
“I’d love to read your writing. Will you show me some of it?”
Jesse fidgeted uncomfortably and didn’t answer right away.
Andrew picked up on his reluctance. “Okay, maybe not now, but… sometime? I’d really like to read your work.”
“Yeah, okay,” Jesse capitulated. “Sometime.”
“You promise?”
Jesse smiled, the tenseness leaving his shoulders. “Yes, I promise. At some point, I’d be more than happy for you to read my writing.”
“Well then. Good,” Andrew said, smiling in return.
The interior of the flat, the secret writing career—these things were just facts. Even casual acquaintances could gain such insights, given the right circumstances. But it was the private observations Andrew made through his many hours of studying Jesse’s every expression that made him feel a deep connection, a closeness, with the other man. The way he chewed at the sides of his thumbs when he was nervous. The self-deprecating humor that masked a modesty and shyness Andrew would never have guessed from their initial interactions. The variations in his smiles—soft, gentle ones when he held Erica Albright; mischievous, sly ones when he was putting someone on; the happy, open ones when they laughed together over a shared joke or funny story. These last were by far Andrew’s favorites.
Carey’s voice cutting in interrupted Andrew’s reminiscing. “Jesus, Andrew. What the hell are you waiting for?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know.”
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t had opportunity. There was the time he had been walking Jesse back to his flat after a night out for dinner. Jesse had had a little more to drink than usual, and Andrew wanted to make sure he made it safely home. When Jesse stumbled on a crack in the sidewalk, Andrew had grabbed his upper arm to prevent him from falling. Jesse had turned to him with one of his brilliant smiles, saying, “Thanks, Andrew.” His face was so close, the heat of his body warm under Andrew’s hand and all he’d have to do was lean just a few inches… But… no. He’d have felt like he was taking advantage of Jesse’s inebriated state.
Then there was that evening they were relaxing on Jesse’s couch, watching a movie. They were sitting close, in order to share the bowl of popcorn resting on Jesse’s lap. And cliché of all clichés, their fingers brushed against each other in the bowl time and time again, until Andrew was almost sure Jesse was timing his snacking deliberately, especially when he could swear he felt Jesse’s finger slide slowly and caressingly down the side of his hand. He looked over and saw Jesse watching him intently and his heart started racing in his chest. Their eyes were locked and he was trying to gather his courage to wrap his hand around Jesse’s and tug him closer when Erica Albright jumped onto Jesse’s lap, dislodging the popcorn, spilling it everywhere. The moment, of course, was lost.
And then there was the recent afternoon he stopped by the shop just to chat, even though he knew it would be inconvenient timing. He’d been leaning on the counter, in between customers, chatting away about another audition he’d gone on, 99.4% sure he wasn’t going to get the role—he wasn’t really right for the part, to be honest, but his agent still wanted to get his face in front of the casting director. He was feeling just the slightest bit sorry for himself and knew talking to Jesse would cheer him up. Which it did, right away. When Jesse had offered to take a break and have someone watch the front so they could go grab coffee, even though he was obviously too busy, Andrew wanted to leap over the counter and kiss his gorgeous face off. But… he didn’t. Nor did he take Jesse up on his generous offer for coffee, even though his heart was warmed and full of gratitude.
There were a million similar circumstances, each ending with over-thinking, hesitation, missed opportunity.
“I think I just want to make that first kiss perfect so much that I’ve completely cock-blocked myself at every turn,” he continued.
“Screw perfect first kisses. You can make the second kiss perfect. Or the third. Or the fifteenth. But unless you actually have a first kiss, you’re never going to get to a fifteenth, let alone a second.”
“I know. God, I do. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I mean, I had my cock down Christy’s throat the very first night—”
“Yes, and that turned out well.”
“Oh, shut up.” Andrew laughed. “I just mean, it’s not that I’m usually shy when it comes to romantic entanglements. But now, it seems that the longer things go on like they have between us, the more paralyzed I become.”
“When are you seeing him next?”
“Tomorrow night.”
“Good. Now listen to me, Andrew Garfield.”
“Okay.”
“Are you listening?”
“I’m listening.”
“Tomorrow evening, you are going to make a move. Stop thinking, stop worrying. Just do it. Kiss him. Grope him. I don’t care what it is, but your intentions will be clear.”
“But what—”
“Uh uh.”
“But if he—”
“No, no buts.”
“Carey, what—”
“Stop. Stop it right there. No excuses. You asked for my help, and I’m giving it to you. It’s time to man up.”
“Man up? Really, Carey?”
“Yes, really, Garfield. I want you to promise me that you are not ending the evening without making your move. Put your big boy pants on and go for it.”
“Oh, you know I’ll be wearing my big boy pants,” Andrew said, a suggestive leer in his voice.
They were both laughing now.
“You’re hopeless. I don’t know why I bother.”
“Because you love me.”
“I do, although sometimes I’m not sure why.” She let out a long suffering sigh.
“My good looks and sparkling personality?”
“Yes, that must be it,” she said dryly. “But you know I do want you to be happy, and not all miserable and mopey, so promise me.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yes, okay. I’m going to make my move.”
“Brilliant.”
-o-
As Andrew stepped out of the shower, he heard his phone ringing for the third time that day. His agent had been trying to reach him since late yesterday, but he knew the call was simply to give him the news he was already quite aware of: he didn’t get the part. He also knew his agent wouldn’t leave a message, but would keep trying to reach him to tell him in person. It’s not that he would be particularly upset by the news (he had told his agent he wasn’t right for it); it was just that he was trying to psyche himself up for the evening with Jesse, and bad news was still bad news, no matter how expected it might be. He needed to keep his head on straight, maintain a positive attitude, if he was finally going to burst out of the friend zone. He had promised Carey he would make a move, and a move he was definitely going to make. His agent could wait.
When his phone rang twice more during dinner, he finally switched it to vibrate.
“You can take that,” Jesse said. “I don’t mind.”
“No, that’s okay. It’s just my agent.”
“Aren’t those the sorts of calls you should be taking?”
“Usually, but it this case, he’s just going to tell me I didn’t get that part I knew I wouldn’t get. I’d rather hear it tomorrow. Or better yet, never.” His tone was wry. “Besides,” he added with a smile, “I don’t want it to ruin my night out with you.”
Jesse smiled in return and Andrew wondered, once again, how he had gone so long without kissing this beautiful man.
All evening his body was buzzing with excitement. Conversation flowed easily, as always, and Andrew was certain Jesse was putting off vibes that indicated his advances would not be unwelcome. He paid careful attention to the body language—lots of eye contact, leaning in to talk, friendly smiles. When Jesse invited him over to his place after their meal, Andrew knew they were completely on the same page. Their hands brushed against each other’s as they walked, neither of them moving away, and Andrew thought that if things went well, maybe next time they walked side by side, he’d be holding Jesse’s hand in his.
As they stood outside his door, Jesse fumbled a bit with his keys, hands slightly shaking. Andrew stood close behind him, feeling the heat of his body, staring at the soft curls brushing the back of his neck, the exposed bit of skin behind his ear, longing to lean in and press his mouth against it. He was relieved Jesse seemed to be as nervous as he himself was. Maybe Jesse had been feeling similarly, wanting to move things to the next level, but not sure how, or afraid to ruin the friendship they already had. Andrew would be sure to let Jesse know they could move things to all the levels and he’d still be sticking around; in fact, Jesse would never be rid of him if he had his way.
“Would you like some coffee?” Jesse asked once they were inside. “Or a beer?”
“A beer would be great. Thanks.” He was already jittery and wired; coffee would be a mistake. And a little liquid courage wouldn’t hurt.
Jesse exited the kitchen holding two bottles of beer. He sat next to Andrew on the couch, close, but not touching. His scraped at the label on the bottle, but his fingernails, bitten to the quick, made little headway. Seeming to realize what he was doing, he put the bottle down on the table, folding his hands in his lap.
“Would you… like to watch a movie or something?”
Or something, Andrew thought, taking a large swallow of his beer, gathering his nerve. He was going to just go for it, like Carey said.
Andrew took a deep breath, turning to Jesse. “I’d actually like something else,” he blurted before he could chicken out.
“Oh,” Jesse said with a soft release of air, eyes widening.
Andrew’s heart was racing; he was tense all over, palms sweating. It was now or never. A look of recognition passed between them and then they were moving toward each other at the same time, heads tilting.
A jarring buzz from his pocket caused Andrew to jump just as their faces were closing in. He jerked his head back in surprise and felt it connect hard with Jesse’s, who let out a grunt of pain.
He was going to kill his agent. Beyond frustrated, he dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone and jammed his finger on the talk button. “What? What the fuck is so goddamn important? I already know I didn’t get that part. So couldn’t this fucking wait until tomorrow?”
“No. No, this can’t wait until tomorrow,” his agent bit back, sounding just as frustrated and angry as Andrew. “I’ve been trying to reach you since yesterday. I’ve left you countless messages, texts, emails. Where the hell have you been?”
Andrew felt the first stirrings of guilt. It really was bad form to ignore his agent who did a crack job for him. “Sorry, sorry. I’ve been… busy.”
“Well, you’re about to get busier. Now listen up. You know that movie role you wanted, the one that went to the Elliot kid?”
“Yes.”
“He’s been in an accident. He’s okay,” he added before Andrew could ask, “but he’s going to be in traction and there’s no way he can finish the movie. You’ve got the job if you can be in New York Monday morning. I need to let them know tonight or they’re moving on to their next choice. The schedule is tight. They’re obviously going to have to reshoot all his scenes—your scenes now if you want them—so they need you there as soon as possible for wardrobe, and all the rest.”
Andrew was stunned, head spinning. He looked up at Jesse and was taken aback to see him holding a paper towel to his nose, which appeared to be bleeding quite profusely. His eyes widened with alarm.
Jesse saw his expression and held up his hand reassuringly, mouthing “I’m fine.”
“Andrew? Are you still there?”
He shook his head to regain focus. “I’m here. Yes, I’m listening.”
“I’ve emailed the contracts to you, and I’ll need them back as soon as you can. I need to at least give them a verbal tonight, so I’ve got to have your answer right away. I’m sorry you don’t have more time to think it over, but I’ve been trying to reach you.”
“Right. Right. Yes, I know.” Andrew already knew his answer, of course. There was no way he wasn’t taking this role. He’d have to move like crazy to look over the contract, pack, make arrangements for his flat while he was gone, schedule his flight. There was so much to do in less than 24 hours. His eyes fell on Jesse again, still dabbing at his nose—the bleeding seemed to have almost stopped at least, thank God. Maybe it was just as well things had turned out as disastrously as they had. He’d be gone for months, after all, and it was hard enough for committed couples to handle the separation his profession often called for. It was unrealistic to expect Jesse to wait for him, when they hadn’t even managed to have even their first kiss. No, it was probably better this way. When he got back, if Jesse was still single, then maybe they could see where things might go.
“Well, do you want the job?” his agent asked, cutting into his thoughts.
“Yes. Yes, of course I want the job. Provided the contracts hold no real surprises, I’m in. Thank you,” he added with sincerity. “I’m sorry I jumped on you when you called. And I apologize for being out of pocket. It won’t happen again.”
They wrapped up their conversation with his agent promising to have his assistant get in touch with details and flight information, then Andrew ended the call.
His mind whirring with all he’d have to do, he looked at Jesse helplessly, trying not to think about what ifs.
They stared at each other in silence for a moment then Andrew said, “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
“I understand.”
“Is your nose okay?”
“It will be fine.”
Jesse walked him to the door.
They both hesitated, the earlier tension returning, and Andrew’s eyes flickered to Jesse’s mouth for a second, his heart full of want and regret. He wanted so much to crush Jesse to him and press his lips to his, taste the inside of his mouth. But it wouldn’t be fair. “I’ll call you later and fill you in on the details,” he promised.
Jesse nodded.
“Good luck,” he said softly as Andrew was leaving. Andrew turned to look one last time at that gorgeous face, so beloved and dear, trying not to think about how sad Jesse looked.
--o--
Part 3
“What on earth are you doing?” Carey asked, looking over Andrew’s shoulder at the web site detailing a long list of Bizarre Holidays, ones for almost every day of the year.
“What? Nothing,” Andrew replied, quickly clicking the browser closed with a guilty look on his face, as if he’d been caught watching porn.
“Yes you were. You were totally checking out flower buying opportunities, weren’t you?”
“No I wasn’t,” he denied.
“You so were.”
“Was not.”
“Were too.”
This could go on indefinitely; Carey was a persistent little thing. Andrew capitulated. “Well so what if I was?” he asked defensively.
“I knew it!”
His shoulders slumped. “I can’t help it,” Andrew said, a hint of a whine in his voice. “It’s been six days since I saw him. Six days, Carey! That’s almost an entire week!”
“You don’t say.”
“Oh shut up,” he laughed at her teasing. “You’re a terrible friend. You should be commiserating with me, or at least helping me find excuses to see him.”
“You don’t need excuses to see him. Just… go see him. I thought the whole coffee thing went well. At least that’s how it sounded from the way you’ve been raving about it for the past six days.”
That was all the opening Andrew needed. “It did go well. He’s so easy to talk to. I know we’ve just met, but I feel like we’ve known each other forever. And he’s charming and funny—”
Carey cut him off, “And intelligent. And his eyes are so blue…”
Andrew looked sheepish. “Yes, well, clearly you’ve heard me talk about all this before.”
“Clearly.”
“I know, I know. I’m being ridiculous. But there’s something about him. I think I could seriously fall in love with this man. I can see us getting married and living in a house together and going shopping and cuddling on the couch watching reality TV…” he trailed off, feeling the back of his neck growing hot as he anticipated Carey’s reaction to his confession.
“Dear Lord you have it bad. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this way before.” Carey studied him thoughtfully. After a long moment she said, “Pull up that web site again. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Andrew did a little fist pump chair dance and let out a quiet “yesss,” before turning back to the computer to strategize.
“And what brings you to Jesse’s Flowers today?” the man himself asked when Andrew entered the shop.
You, Andrew thought. You, you, you, always you.
“I’m here for some flowers.”
“What a coincidence.”
Andrew smiled and felt as if this was their own private little joke. He refused to think about whether Jesse had used this shtick with anyone else before.
Jesse stepped out from behind the counter, asking, “Who are the flowers for this time?”
“These aren’t actually from me,” Andrew replied. “I’m doing a favor for a friend. You remember me talking about Justin, and his throat surgery?”
“Ah, yes. Your old band mate.”
“Ha. I promise I am not harboring a secret boy band background.”
“I still find it hard to believe. Especially with that hair…”
“My hair is awesome.”
“If you say so.”
“I do. And so do my legion of screaming teenage fans.”
“I knew it!”
They were both laughing at their ridiculous conversation. Jesse’s smile caused something in Andrew’s belly to glow warm and bright.
“All right, then… Justin?” Jesse asked once their laughter subsided. The warmth remained.
Andrew was about to answer when he felt something soft against his calf. He looked down to see a small calico rubbing against his leg.
“What have we here?” he asked, crouching down to inspect the small cat. It purred loudly when he scratched behind its ears. He looked up, trying not to notice how his face was eye level with Jesse’s crotch, to ask, “Who’s this?”
“That’s Erica Albright. She sometimes likes to help out in the shop.”
“You gave your cat a last name?” Andrew found this absurdly charming.
Jesse rubbed the back of his neck and gave a little embarrassed shrug.
“She was a stray. It seemed like the thing to do.”
“I like it,” Andrew said decisively. If Jesse’s smile was any indication, he had said the right thing. He gave the cat one last scratch saying, “It was a pleasure to meet you Ms. Albright,” before standing back up.
“So… the flowers?” Jesse asked.
“Right. Yes. Well, it’s like this. Justin isn’t allowed to speak for weeks, because of the surgery, to give his throat time to heal. And today is National Scrabble Day, which is a special day for him and his girlfriend, since they play the game together all the time. So he thought it would be nice to send some flowers to do a little speaking for him, since she’s on location, and he can’t really talk on the phone. You know, to let her know he’s thinking of her.
“I told him I knew just the place—a shop where the flowers are more verbose than he could possibly imagine.”
Jesse smiled appreciatively. Andrew tried not to stare at his dimple.
“Here, you’ll enjoy this,” he added, reaching into his pocket to pull out a folded piece of paper. “He even wrote a poem to be included.”
To Jessica:
It’s National Scrabble Day
And I just wanted to say
That I think of your smiles
When I’m choosing my tiles
The way you balance your rack
Now that’s bringing sexy back
I couldn’t love you more
You’re my triple word score.
Love, Justin
Andrew took advantage of the opportunity to study Jesse’s face as he read Justin’s verse. He watched delightedly as his expression went from curious, to horrified, to amused. When Jesse chewed on his bottom lip to bite back his smile, Andrew stared, fascinated.
“It’s easy to see how he became a multi-platinum selling songwriter,” Jesse finally said, deadpan.
“Quite,” Andrew agreed seriously.
A familiar sight greeted Andrew as the bell to Jesse’s Flowers rung, announcing his arrival—the object of his affection seated on a stool behind the counter, laptop open beside him. His face lit with a smile when he caught sight of Andrew, and Andrew hoped it was a smile for him, personally, and not simply his standard customer smile.
“You’re getting to be a regular.”
“Now that I know how to say it with flowers, I don’t want to say it any other way. Really, I had no idea it was such a complex art.”
“It does have a long tradition and well-documented history.”
“I’m beginning to understand that.”
“What can I help you with today? Another errand for the silenced Mr. Timberlake? Did he give you some Parcheesi poetry to woo his lady love?” Jesse may have placed extra emphasis on the ‘cheesy’.
Andrew tipped his head back and laughed. “Ha. That was a terrible pun.” His reaction and wide smile would argue he thought it was anything but. “No, nothing like that. This one’s actually from me.”
“Delivery?”
“Yes. I’d like to send a nice plant to the animal shelter near my neighborhood, something to brighten up the place.”
“Oh?”
“After I left here the other day, I was thinking about your Erica Albright and how lucky she was to have you. You said she was a stray, right?” Andrew wished for a moment that he had been taken in by the lovely Jesse and allowed to sit on his lap, and be stroked by those capable hands.
“Yes, that’s right.”
“I started wondering about all the other animals that weren’t so lucky—no homes, no scratches behind the ears, scrounging for meals. And then later that evening I flipped on the television to watch some Animal Planet, and there was Sarah McLaughlin singing Arms of an Angel. You know the song?”
Andrew hummed a few bars, slightly off-key, until Jesse cut in, smiling, “Yes, I’m familiar with the commercial.”
“Right. Well, I somehow found myself down at the shelter the next afternoon, intending to make a donation, but ending up volunteering half the day in addition and promising to return, schedule permitting.”
Jesse was staring at him with a look on his face Andrew couldn’t decipher.
“Erica Albright inspired you to volunteer at an animal shelter?”
Andrew’s brow furrowed. “In a manner of speaking, yes. Their little furry faces are hard to resist.”
“That they are,” Jesse agreed.
“In any case, I thought it’d be nice to send the regular volunteers a ‘thank you’, especially as this is Pet Owners Independence Day.”
“Is it?”
“That it is.”
“By all means, let’s pick something out,” he said, motioning to the refrigerated cases.
“What about that one,” Andrew asked, pointing to a flowering plant in a nice looking pot.
“You definitely don’t want that one; the leaves are toxic to animals.”
“Oh dear. Not exactly the message I was going for. This is obviously a job for a trained professional.”
“You’re in luck; there happens to be one close by.”
“How fortuitous,” Andrew said, and felt a shiver of delight when he was rewarded with Jesse’s beautiful dimpled smile.
Once the plant was selected and paid for, and the address taken down, Andrew stood at the counter, drumming his fingers nervously, while he worked up his courage.
Taking a deep breath, he let the words tumble out.
“So, apparently, the point of Pet Owners Independence Day is to let the pets take over and fill in for their owners at their jobs while the owners have a bit of freedom. Do you think Erica Albright would be willing to mind the store while you took a coffee break with me down on the corner?”
Jesse looked up in surprise.
“Oh…well… um…” He seemed flustered.
“If you’re too busy, that’s all right. It was just a thought. I enjoyed our last conversation,” he cut in, disappointed.
“No… it’s…. uh…yeah…” Jesse stammered another moment before taking a breath and closing his mouth, gathering himself.
“Erica has a little trouble managing the cash register, but if you hold on just a moment?” He held up a finger as he walked to the swinging door marked Employees Only.
Andrew smiled and nodded eagerly.
He heard Jesse asking someone in the back if they would mind watching the front while he went out for a bit. He assumed the answer was yes when Jesse came back smiling, untying the apron he had on over his clothes.
“Coffee it is,” Jesse said.
This was it. National Take A Chance Day. He was going to go down to Jesse’s Flowers and ask Jesse on a real date, one where Jesse knew it was a date and not just two friends having coffee.
That’s not to say the last time they had coffee hadn’t gone well. Because it had. Swimmingly, in fact. They had talked about Erica Albright, how Jesse found her in the alley behind his building, a tiny little thing, all dirty and scared. How he set out food for her day after day until she stopped running away every time he opened the back door and finally allowed him to pet her. How he befriended the little calico slowly, gaining her trust until one day, as he turned to go back into the shop, she had followed him inside. She hadn’t left since.
Andrew had told him how much he wanted a pet, but with his schedule it wouldn’t be fair to the animal.
“We always had cats and dogs growing up. There’s something about a pet that makes a place a home. Do you know what I mean?”
Jesse did.
“I’d love to have one here, but when I’m lucky enough to have a job, sometimes I’m away months at a time.”
The rest of their conversation had flowed smoothly and easily. There was a comfort between them, and he felt as if he could tell Jesse anything. Anything at all.
Except, of course, that he was falling head over heels and wanted to jump his bones.
As he approached the shop, his nerves set in. He felt a small amount of pressure since it was also Lover’s Day, and he didn’t want to get his hopes up too high, afraid he wouldn’t withstand the crash if things didn’t go as planned. But then again, National Zucchini Bread Day was also being celebrated—although he wasn’t sure where—so he supposed they balanced each other out. Andrew was skeptical about some of these holidays listed on the web site, but if they could help him win the charming Jesse, he’d lend his complete support.
The bell rang as he opened the door and he looked eagerly to the counter to find… not Jesse.
“Can I help you?” a pretty red-haired girl with a raspy voice asked.
“I was looking for Jesse. Is he in back?”
“No.” She made a sympathetic face. “He had some meetings today. Wait,” she cocked her head. “You’re the actor. Andrew.”
“Yes, I am.” He approached the girl and held out his hand. “Andrew Garfield. Pleased to meet you.”
“Likewise,” she said. “Emma Stone.” She held onto his hand, examining his face closely. “I have to say… you’re much cuter without the mullet.”
He pulled away from her grip so he could cover his face with both hands. “Oh no,” he groaned, “That’s a terrible movie. Did you really watch it?”
She laughed. “Jesse and I watched it last night. All the way to the bitter end. And that’s a true testament to your fine acting skills and pretty pretty face.”
Andrew felt a cold spike through his heart, even though her words were teasing and complimentary. What did she mean that she and Jesse watched it last night? Was there a ‘she and Jesse’? He told Carey Jesse might not be gay.
He pulled his hands away from his face and watched Emma closely as he asked, “Do you and Jesse watch movies together often?”
She appeared to be watching him just as closely as she responded. “Every now and then. Especially when there’s an actor he’d like to check out.”
What did she mean ‘check out’, Andrew wondered? He would never understand women.
“Does he… check out actors often?” God, what in the world was he doing? He needed to get out of there before he made an even bigger fool of himself.
“Not especially,” Emma responded, still studying him thoughtfully.
“That’s good. That’s good,” Andrew muttered to himself.
“So was there anything I could help you with? Some flowers maybe?”
“What? No, not today, I don’t think, but thank you.”
“You know,” Emma said, “the flower shop has a web site where you can order online. That way you don’t have to drive all the way to the shop. Our customers really enjoy the convenience.”
Andrew frowned. Was she warning him away from Jesse? He felt as if they were having an entirely different conversation under the surface, but he had no idea what she was saying.
“I don’t mind coming down here. And this way I can actually smell the flowers. You can’t get that online.”
“No, no you can’t.”
“Well, it was nice meeting you, Emma. Can you please let Jesse know I stopped by?”
“Oh, you can just bet I will,” she said, with an emphasis that made Andrew nervous.
What on earth did she mean? “Right. Thanks then.”
“I’m telling you, she was totally checking you out as Jesse’s friend, to see if you were good enough for him.”
“How on earth could you possibly know that?”
“Because I’m a girl.”
“Sometimes I think your kind is an entirely different species.”
Carey climbed on his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck, tucking her head under his chin.
“Darling, you’re completely hopeless.”
“But you love me anyway.”
“Of course I do.”
Andrew gave her a squeeze, hoping she was right. In any case, he was going to take a step back and revert to his previous method of strategically timed flower purchases and coffee invitations. Take A Chance Day obviously wasn’t for everyone.
“World Penguin Day?”
“Penguins made me think of tuxedos which made me think of formal occasions, and every formal occasion needs flowers, don’t you agree?”
“Indeed.”
“I thought for sure I’d see you here on Wednesday—Star Wars Day and National Candied Orange Peel Day.”
Someone had obviously been surfing the web.
“I couldn’t make it, unfortunately. Had a meeting with my agent.”
“Oh? How did that go?”
Andrew made a so-so motion with his hand. “Not sure yet. I’m up for a part that I really really want, but I don’t think I’m going to get it.”
“Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
“So what’s the occasion today?”
“National Public Gardens Day. I thought you might want to go for a coffee to celebrate.”
“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” Jesse said from behind the counter.
“Why’s that?” Andrew asked, disappointed.
“We’re celebrating No Pants Day in the shop today.” His eyes twinkled with mischief.
Andrew barked out a laugh, face flushing.
“Let me guess… You’re here for Iris Day.”
“You would be wrong. After the No Pants surprise, I thought for sure you’d be up for No Socks Day.”
Jesse laughed. Andrew would never get tired of seeing those dimples appear.
“Let me just tell Erica Albright I’m running out for bit.”
“National Sea Monkey Day? Really?”
“They’re a bowl full of happiness.”
Jesse smiled.
“And,” Andrew added, “It’s Love A Tree Day as well. Trees made me think of plants which made me think of flowers…” which made me think of you, he finished in his head.
“Andrew,” Jesse started, then stopped what he was going to say. He chewed his lower lip.
“Yes?” Andrew prompted.
Jesse took a deep breath then looked at him with bright blue eyes. Andrew’s knees felt weak.
“You don’t have to keep finding obscure holidays to come visit, you know.”
“What? I’m not—”
The rest of his comment was quelled by Jesse’s knowing look.
“We could just, um, hang out.” Jesse stumbled a bit over the words. “I mean,” he added quickly, “if you wanted to.”
“I’d like that a lot. Of course I want to.”
“You do?”
“I really do.”
Jesse’s smile was breathtaking.
Andrew and Jesse soon settled into a routine, if you could call Andrew stopping by the shop at random times on random days—though more days than not—and stealing Jesse away for coffee, or lunch, or a beer after closing, and the occasional dinner, a routine. Erica Albright, it turned out, was amenable to watching the shop at all hours of the day. Andrew suspected Emma had more to do with Jesse’s scheduling flexibility than the calico, but who was he to argue?
Even though Carey insisted Emma was only Jesse’s friend, Andrew couldn’t help but feel him out, just to be sure. How could Carey actually know, after all? The argument, “because I’m a girl,” wasn’t terribly convincing. He chose a time when they were out for a beer, hoping the alcohol would relax his nerves and loosen Jesse’s tongue. Not that he needed any more reasons to be thinking about Jesse’s tongue; he already thought about Jesse’s mouth far more often than was probably healthy.
“I stopped by your shop one afternoon when you weren’t there. I met your Emma.”
Jesse gave a short laugh. “Don’t let her hear you call her that.”
“Oh really?” Andrew liked the direction this conversation was going already.
“She mentioned you stopped by. Said she gave you a little bit of a hard time.”
“Not really.” Jesse shot him a look. “Well, maybe just a little.” Unkind thoughts about the pretty red head started filtering through his mind.
Jesse smiled. “She really liked you.”
Andrew sat up in surprise. “She did?” All unkind thoughts fled his brain immediately.
Jesse laughed at Andrew’s reaction. “She did. She’s an actor too, you know.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Yeah. I’m probably going to lose her soon. She’s much too good to be working in my flower shop.”
“That’s too bad. For you, I mean. Not for her, I suppose.”
“I’ll really miss her. It means I’ll have to get used to somebody new, and she’s always so great at dealing with people. She handles most of the bigger events now. I’ve got a few other employees who are pretty good, and I’m sure I can train them to take over for her, but Emma’s the best. She doesn’t take shit from anyone. And the customers all love her. I suppose I’ll have to start dealing with more of them myself again once she’s gone.”
Andrew chose to focus on the business side of the conversation rather than Jesse’s glowing praise of Emma. He could wish a fellow thespian success. He wouldn’t even allow himself to consciously tack on the part where he was especially happy for her success if it meant she would be spending less time with Jesse.
“I would imagine that’s the worst part of a job like yours—dealing with all those customers.”
Jesse looked up, focusing his bright blue eyes on Andrew, a soft smile on his face. Andrew’s stomach swooped. “I don’t know. Sometimes it’s not so bad.”
“What’s wrong?” Jesse asked when Andrew showed up at the shop one day near closing time. His entire demeanor projected dejection.
“I didn’t get the part,” Andrew answered.
“Oh. I’m really sorry to hear that.”
“I need something stronger than coffee. You’re taking me out for drinks, so I can drown my disappointment in copious amounts of alcohol.”
Jesse smiled at his presumption and gave him an awkward, sympathetic pat on his shoulder.
“I can do that.”
“You’re a good friend,” Andrew said in a serious tone.
Jesse looked up, a slightly surprised expression on his face. His cheeks pinked. Andrew smiled at him and gave a small laugh.
“Well, you are.”
Jesse smiled back, looking pleased. “Just give me a few minutes to get everything closed up, and we can go.”
“Can I help?”
“No. Thank you, but it won’t take me long.”
Jesse disappeared in back and Andrew heard low voices. He wandered around the shop aimlessly, reading the tags next to the flowers in the cases, the various items on the walls. Slightly bored, when Jesse didn’t return right away, he wandered behind the counter to where Jesse’s laptop always sat. He expected to see the shop’s online ordering site, but instead, a text document was open on the screen. He leaned over, intrigued, reading a few lines, then reared back in embarrassment when he heard Jesse returning.
“I’m sorry,” he said, flustered when Jesse halted in shock at seeing him behind the counter. “I was just being nosy. I didn’t touch anything, I swear.” He held up his hands as proof.
Jesse recovered quickly. “That’s fine,” he said, moving around Andrew to close the window on the open document and shut the laptop down. His shoulders were tense.
“No, really, I’m so sorry. I usually have much better manners. I promise to stay on this side of the counter from now on.” He jumped around to the customer side in a dramatic fashion, watching in appreciation as the corners of Jesse’s mouth quirked into a small smile.
“It’s fine,” Jesse said. “Really. You’re not just some customer. We’re friends, right?”
Andrew’s wide smile lit the entire room. “Right. Yes. Friends. We certainly are.” And if he had his way about things, they would be much, much more.
“It’s not that it was even a big part, or even a big film,” Andrew slurred some time later, having followed through on his plans to drown his sorrows. Jesse had been surreptitiously moving a water glass in front of his hand periodically, trying to keep him hydrated. Andrew obliged, taking a large swallow, thinking, even in his inebriated state, how thoughtful the action was. “But the role spoke to me. I just really wanted it.”
Andrew groaned, rubbed his face with his hands, then pushed the bottles out of the way so he could lean down and bang his forehead against the table. After the third bang, he folded his arms and lay his head down, groaning again before letting out a large sigh. “Ugh, I’ll be unemployed forever,” he mumbled into his arms. “Maybe I should just give it all up and get a real job. Are you hiring? I could be one of your drivers. I obviously can’t be trusted with the arrangements, what with almost poisoning cats and pledging eternal love to psychotic pyromaniacs.”
“Andrew—”
“Hmmm?” Andrew opened one eye and turned his head to peer out over his arms. Jesse’s shoulders were shaking in silent laughter.
“I don’t think you have anything to worry about. You’re an incredible actor. Any director would be lucky to have you.”
“Of course you’d say that. You’re playing the role of sympathetic friend to the disappointed loser tonight.”
“Not at all,” Jesse assured him, still smiling. “I’ve seen your work and you’re amazing.”
“You must really be feeling sorry for me if you’re calling that horrible movie with Justin and the mullet amazing. Now I know I’m doomed to failure.”
Jesse laughed and Andrew wasn’t feeling so drunk or disappointed that he couldn’t appreciate a good dimple showing. His misery was worth it if it could elicit that kind of reaction from Jesse.
“I’ve seen more of your work than that.”
Andrew sat up abruptly, his head clearing. “You have?” he asked curiously. “What else have you seen?”
“Um… well…” Jesse fidgeted. “All of it?”
“You did?” Andrew’s mood immediately lifted. He could barely feel his face, but he suspected it was sporting an enormous stupid smile.
Jesse rubbed the back of his neck. “I did.”
“Oh. Well, that’s… that’s… oh.” The feeling was returning to his face and he thought his cheeks might split from the grin he couldn’t contain.
“So you should believe me when I say that you’re incredibly talented. Okay?”
“You’re not just saying that because you’re afraid of my driving, are you?”
“Whoa, careful there,” Jesse said as he helped Andrew navigate the stairs.
“Are you sure you don’t mind? I can catch a cab,” Andrew slurred.
“I don’t mind. I’d rather you stay here tonight; otherwise, I’d just worry about you getting home safely.”
“I could text you.”
“You’re already here. Whoops. Careful.”
Andrew leaned into Jesse, enjoying the feel of his body pressed against his side.
“You’re a good friend, Jesse.”
“So you’ve said,” Jesse replied drily.
“Ah. Have I been repeating myself? Carey always says I tend to do that when I’m totally pissed.” Jesse ignored his rambling.
“All right, here we go,” Jesse said, leading him to the couch. He helped Andrew sit down and watched with amusement as he tried to kick off his shoes.
Rolling his eyes, Jesse directed, “Stop. Give them here.”
Andrew leaned back on the couch and lifted his feet up, waving one in front of Jesse’s face.
Jesse snorted and grabbed his ankle, then sat on the couch by his feet, pulling them into his lap while he untied the laces. Once he removed Andrew’s shoes he asked, “Can I get you some clothes to sleep in?”
Andrew started unfastening his belt and then his pants, tugging them down his hips.
“Just help me off with these.”
Jesse hesitated, then rolled his eyes as Andrew twisted on the couch, trying to get his pants down his long legs, laughing when he tumbled off the couch and landed on the floor with a thud.
“Ouch,” Andrew said.
“Hold still. Give me your feet.”
Andrew raised them obediently and Jesse tugged the hems, pulling Andrew’s jeans off, keeping his eyes averted from the black boxer briefs as they were uncovered.
As Andrew climbed back up on the couch he asked, “Will you still respect me in the morning?”
Jesse snorted. “That implies I respect you right now.”
Andrews collapsed in a pile of gangly limbs and hysterical giggles while Jesse looked on, bemused. “You’re quite funny, Jesse,” he finally choked out.
Jesse gave him an indulgent smile. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
He returned in a few minutes with a glass of water, a couple of Tylenol, and a pillow and blanket tucked under his arm.
“Take these,” he instructed, handing Andrew the glass of water and tablets before tucking the pillow behind his head.
“The bathroom’s right down the hall. First door on the left. Do you think you’ll be sick? I can get something to keep by the couch, if you think you’ll need…”
“No, I’ll be fine, but thanks.”
“Okay. Here’s a blanket if it gets too cold. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Thanks,” Andrew mumbled as he curled up on the couch, tucking a hand under his chin.
“You’re welcome.”
As Jesse started to leave the room, Andrew’s hand shot out and grabbed at his fingers.
“Jesse?”
“Yes?”
“Did you mean what you said? You really think I’m good? You weren’t just saying that to make me feel better?”
Andrew was already drifting off, so he wasn’t sure if he imagined it, but he could swear Jesse’s fingers tightened on his own, his thumb rubbing gently across the top of his hand.
“No, I wasn’t just saying that. You’re incredibly talented. I… I think you’re absolutely amazing.”
Andrew hummed softly as Jesse returned his hand to its spot by his chin. The last thing he heard as he slipped into sleep was Jesse’s soft voice saying, “Sweet dreams, Andrew.”
“Carey, you have to help me,” Andrew begged, his voice tinged with desperation. “If we go on like this much longer, I’m afraid I’m going to end up stuck in the friend zone for all eternity.”
“How is that possible? Haven’t you been seeing him almost every night this week?”
“And last week, and the week before, and for ages before that. But nothing’s happened.”
“Nothing’s happened?”
“Nothing’s happened.”
Ever since Andrew had woken up in Jesse’s flat, hungover and alone, and not wearing any trousers, he had kicked himself that he hadn’t had the presence of mind to at least try and kiss Jesse the previous evening. After all, he’d had the excuse of alcohol, not to mention emotional distress, to fall back on if things had gone terribly wrong.
Of course the thought had crossed his mind the night before—several hundred times, in fact, especially every time Jesse’s full pink lips wrapped themselves around the mouth of his beer bottle. And every time he smiled. And every time he opened his mouth to speak, or looked at Andrew with his gorgeous blue eyes, or just sat there looking all scrumptious and delicious. But Andrew hadn’t wanted their first kiss to be while he was sloppy drunk and emotionally needy. He wanted their first kiss to be special and sweet, and maybe a little bit dirty (or, okay, a lot dirty), and he wanted both of them to be fully aware of what was happening between them. Because, indeed, something would most definitely be happening between them.
Now he was left wondering if he’d ever get to kiss Jesse at all.
They had certainly grown closer to each other. Jesse was no longer a charming bit of mystery with a love of cats and a biting wit. Sometimes Andrew felt he knew Jesse almost as well as he knew himself. He had taken advantage of having Jesse’s flat to himself that first morning, smiling at the glass of water and headache medicine left out for him atop a note written in Jesse’s scratchy handwriting stating that he should come downstairs to the shop when he was awake and they could go grab some coffee, and to make himself at home, and he had left a fresh towel out if he wanted to take a shower, and tempting as it was, he had not hidden his pants and they were folded on the back of the couch. A smile quirked at his lips at that last part.
Surprisingly, Andrew hadn’t felt too bad that morning—a slight headache, a little upset in his stomach. Nothing the pain tablets, coffee and some greasy hangover food wouldn’t cure. He took advantage of Jesse’s offer to use his shower and felt not the slightest bit of guilt poking through his medicine cabinet, sniffing his shampoo once he was under the spray, imagining what Jesse’s soft curls would smell like.
After he was dressed, he nosed around the flat, taking in the shelf after shelf of books, full of an eclectic assortment of titles, from history, to Russian humorists, to classics, to modern thrillers. He perused the artwork on the walls—a collection of old maps in similarly aged wooden frames, several movie posters in more modern presentations, some original paintings and sketches.
The kitchen was bright and cheerful, with a few dishes in the sink. A mat on the floor held two white bowls, one filled with water and the other with cat food. Noticing the writing on the sides, Andrew leaned down to get a better look. One said, simply, “J’acccuse!” and the other was adorned with a quotation by Mark Twain: “Good friends, good books and a sleepy conscience: this is the ideal life.” Jesse had never seemed the type to own novelty items, but for some reason, these suited him. Andrew deemed them aptly appropriate for a cat named Erica Albright.
Taking the famous humorist’s words to heart, Andrew decided to peek into Jesse’s bedroom, a room which he had originally resisted entering. Like the rest of the flat, it was neat and tidy and similarly decorated, with another old map above the bed and more books along one wall. A few framed photographs rested on the dresser alongside an assortment of coins, scraps of paper, and a few paperclips. The bed was covered in a plush blue comforter. Andrew tried not to imagine how the bedding would bring out the color of Jesse’s eyes were he lying there naked. Before he could get carried away with his thoughts, he exited the bedroom and headed down to the shop to thank Jesse for his hospitality.
The details of the interior of Jesse’s home weren’t the only insights he had gained into the life of the adorable flower shop owner. Over coffee one afternoon he had discovered the most interesting fact about Jesse to date. They had had numerous conversations about books since their very first meeting where their common interest had been established. As they conversed, the discussion somehow moved to the topic of electronic publishing. Andrew was reminded to finally ask about the story he had caught a glimpse of on Jesse’s laptop the day he had been caught behind the counter.
“So that story you had open on your computer that day… What were you reading?”
Jesse blushed, taken off guard. Andrew was intrigued, not to mention charmed by the flush in Jesse’s cheeks. His hands itched to touch the skin and feel the heat beneath his fingertips.
“What?” Andrew pressed. “Was it porn or something? You’re blushing.”
Jesse laughed, rubbing the back of his neck, ducking his head sheepishly.
“No, it wasn’t porn.”
“What then? Why are you embarrassed? Was it teen paranormal romance? A former boy band tell all?”
“No, nothing like that.” Jesse laughed softly, his face still tinged with color.
“The reality can hardly be worse than my imagination then, can it? C’mon. Fess up. What were you reading?”
“I…uh… I wasn’t exactly reading anything.”
“You weren’t?” Andrew asked, puzzled.
“No. It was something… something I was writing.”
Andrew’s eyes lit up. “Really? That’s fantastic. I didn’t realize you wrote. Have you had anything published?”
“I’ve had… some success,” Jesse admitted.
“I’d love to read your writing. Will you show me some of it?”
Jesse fidgeted uncomfortably and didn’t answer right away.
Andrew picked up on his reluctance. “Okay, maybe not now, but… sometime? I’d really like to read your work.”
“Yeah, okay,” Jesse capitulated. “Sometime.”
“You promise?”
Jesse smiled, the tenseness leaving his shoulders. “Yes, I promise. At some point, I’d be more than happy for you to read my writing.”
“Well then. Good,” Andrew said, smiling in return.
The interior of the flat, the secret writing career—these things were just facts. Even casual acquaintances could gain such insights, given the right circumstances. But it was the private observations Andrew made through his many hours of studying Jesse’s every expression that made him feel a deep connection, a closeness, with the other man. The way he chewed at the sides of his thumbs when he was nervous. The self-deprecating humor that masked a modesty and shyness Andrew would never have guessed from their initial interactions. The variations in his smiles—soft, gentle ones when he held Erica Albright; mischievous, sly ones when he was putting someone on; the happy, open ones when they laughed together over a shared joke or funny story. These last were by far Andrew’s favorites.
Carey’s voice cutting in interrupted Andrew’s reminiscing. “Jesus, Andrew. What the hell are you waiting for?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know.”
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t had opportunity. There was the time he had been walking Jesse back to his flat after a night out for dinner. Jesse had had a little more to drink than usual, and Andrew wanted to make sure he made it safely home. When Jesse stumbled on a crack in the sidewalk, Andrew had grabbed his upper arm to prevent him from falling. Jesse had turned to him with one of his brilliant smiles, saying, “Thanks, Andrew.” His face was so close, the heat of his body warm under Andrew’s hand and all he’d have to do was lean just a few inches… But… no. He’d have felt like he was taking advantage of Jesse’s inebriated state.
Then there was that evening they were relaxing on Jesse’s couch, watching a movie. They were sitting close, in order to share the bowl of popcorn resting on Jesse’s lap. And cliché of all clichés, their fingers brushed against each other in the bowl time and time again, until Andrew was almost sure Jesse was timing his snacking deliberately, especially when he could swear he felt Jesse’s finger slide slowly and caressingly down the side of his hand. He looked over and saw Jesse watching him intently and his heart started racing in his chest. Their eyes were locked and he was trying to gather his courage to wrap his hand around Jesse’s and tug him closer when Erica Albright jumped onto Jesse’s lap, dislodging the popcorn, spilling it everywhere. The moment, of course, was lost.
And then there was the recent afternoon he stopped by the shop just to chat, even though he knew it would be inconvenient timing. He’d been leaning on the counter, in between customers, chatting away about another audition he’d gone on, 99.4% sure he wasn’t going to get the role—he wasn’t really right for the part, to be honest, but his agent still wanted to get his face in front of the casting director. He was feeling just the slightest bit sorry for himself and knew talking to Jesse would cheer him up. Which it did, right away. When Jesse had offered to take a break and have someone watch the front so they could go grab coffee, even though he was obviously too busy, Andrew wanted to leap over the counter and kiss his gorgeous face off. But… he didn’t. Nor did he take Jesse up on his generous offer for coffee, even though his heart was warmed and full of gratitude.
There were a million similar circumstances, each ending with over-thinking, hesitation, missed opportunity.
“I think I just want to make that first kiss perfect so much that I’ve completely cock-blocked myself at every turn,” he continued.
“Screw perfect first kisses. You can make the second kiss perfect. Or the third. Or the fifteenth. But unless you actually have a first kiss, you’re never going to get to a fifteenth, let alone a second.”
“I know. God, I do. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I mean, I had my cock down Christy’s throat the very first night—”
“Yes, and that turned out well.”
“Oh, shut up.” Andrew laughed. “I just mean, it’s not that I’m usually shy when it comes to romantic entanglements. But now, it seems that the longer things go on like they have between us, the more paralyzed I become.”
“When are you seeing him next?”
“Tomorrow night.”
“Good. Now listen to me, Andrew Garfield.”
“Okay.”
“Are you listening?”
“I’m listening.”
“Tomorrow evening, you are going to make a move. Stop thinking, stop worrying. Just do it. Kiss him. Grope him. I don’t care what it is, but your intentions will be clear.”
“But what—”
“Uh uh.”
“But if he—”
“No, no buts.”
“Carey, what—”
“Stop. Stop it right there. No excuses. You asked for my help, and I’m giving it to you. It’s time to man up.”
“Man up? Really, Carey?”
“Yes, really, Garfield. I want you to promise me that you are not ending the evening without making your move. Put your big boy pants on and go for it.”
“Oh, you know I’ll be wearing my big boy pants,” Andrew said, a suggestive leer in his voice.
They were both laughing now.
“You’re hopeless. I don’t know why I bother.”
“Because you love me.”
“I do, although sometimes I’m not sure why.” She let out a long suffering sigh.
“My good looks and sparkling personality?”
“Yes, that must be it,” she said dryly. “But you know I do want you to be happy, and not all miserable and mopey, so promise me.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yes, okay. I’m going to make my move.”
“Brilliant.”
As Andrew stepped out of the shower, he heard his phone ringing for the third time that day. His agent had been trying to reach him since late yesterday, but he knew the call was simply to give him the news he was already quite aware of: he didn’t get the part. He also knew his agent wouldn’t leave a message, but would keep trying to reach him to tell him in person. It’s not that he would be particularly upset by the news (he had told his agent he wasn’t right for it); it was just that he was trying to psyche himself up for the evening with Jesse, and bad news was still bad news, no matter how expected it might be. He needed to keep his head on straight, maintain a positive attitude, if he was finally going to burst out of the friend zone. He had promised Carey he would make a move, and a move he was definitely going to make. His agent could wait.
When his phone rang twice more during dinner, he finally switched it to vibrate.
“You can take that,” Jesse said. “I don’t mind.”
“No, that’s okay. It’s just my agent.”
“Aren’t those the sorts of calls you should be taking?”
“Usually, but it this case, he’s just going to tell me I didn’t get that part I knew I wouldn’t get. I’d rather hear it tomorrow. Or better yet, never.” His tone was wry. “Besides,” he added with a smile, “I don’t want it to ruin my night out with you.”
Jesse smiled in return and Andrew wondered, once again, how he had gone so long without kissing this beautiful man.
All evening his body was buzzing with excitement. Conversation flowed easily, as always, and Andrew was certain Jesse was putting off vibes that indicated his advances would not be unwelcome. He paid careful attention to the body language—lots of eye contact, leaning in to talk, friendly smiles. When Jesse invited him over to his place after their meal, Andrew knew they were completely on the same page. Their hands brushed against each other’s as they walked, neither of them moving away, and Andrew thought that if things went well, maybe next time they walked side by side, he’d be holding Jesse’s hand in his.
As they stood outside his door, Jesse fumbled a bit with his keys, hands slightly shaking. Andrew stood close behind him, feeling the heat of his body, staring at the soft curls brushing the back of his neck, the exposed bit of skin behind his ear, longing to lean in and press his mouth against it. He was relieved Jesse seemed to be as nervous as he himself was. Maybe Jesse had been feeling similarly, wanting to move things to the next level, but not sure how, or afraid to ruin the friendship they already had. Andrew would be sure to let Jesse know they could move things to all the levels and he’d still be sticking around; in fact, Jesse would never be rid of him if he had his way.
“Would you like some coffee?” Jesse asked once they were inside. “Or a beer?”
“A beer would be great. Thanks.” He was already jittery and wired; coffee would be a mistake. And a little liquid courage wouldn’t hurt.
Jesse exited the kitchen holding two bottles of beer. He sat next to Andrew on the couch, close, but not touching. His scraped at the label on the bottle, but his fingernails, bitten to the quick, made little headway. Seeming to realize what he was doing, he put the bottle down on the table, folding his hands in his lap.
“Would you… like to watch a movie or something?”
Or something, Andrew thought, taking a large swallow of his beer, gathering his nerve. He was going to just go for it, like Carey said.
Andrew took a deep breath, turning to Jesse. “I’d actually like something else,” he blurted before he could chicken out.
“Oh,” Jesse said with a soft release of air, eyes widening.
Andrew’s heart was racing; he was tense all over, palms sweating. It was now or never. A look of recognition passed between them and then they were moving toward each other at the same time, heads tilting.
A jarring buzz from his pocket caused Andrew to jump just as their faces were closing in. He jerked his head back in surprise and felt it connect hard with Jesse’s, who let out a grunt of pain.
He was going to kill his agent. Beyond frustrated, he dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone and jammed his finger on the talk button. “What? What the fuck is so goddamn important? I already know I didn’t get that part. So couldn’t this fucking wait until tomorrow?”
“No. No, this can’t wait until tomorrow,” his agent bit back, sounding just as frustrated and angry as Andrew. “I’ve been trying to reach you since yesterday. I’ve left you countless messages, texts, emails. Where the hell have you been?”
Andrew felt the first stirrings of guilt. It really was bad form to ignore his agent who did a crack job for him. “Sorry, sorry. I’ve been… busy.”
“Well, you’re about to get busier. Now listen up. You know that movie role you wanted, the one that went to the Elliot kid?”
“Yes.”
“He’s been in an accident. He’s okay,” he added before Andrew could ask, “but he’s going to be in traction and there’s no way he can finish the movie. You’ve got the job if you can be in New York Monday morning. I need to let them know tonight or they’re moving on to their next choice. The schedule is tight. They’re obviously going to have to reshoot all his scenes—your scenes now if you want them—so they need you there as soon as possible for wardrobe, and all the rest.”
Andrew was stunned, head spinning. He looked up at Jesse and was taken aback to see him holding a paper towel to his nose, which appeared to be bleeding quite profusely. His eyes widened with alarm.
Jesse saw his expression and held up his hand reassuringly, mouthing “I’m fine.”
“Andrew? Are you still there?”
He shook his head to regain focus. “I’m here. Yes, I’m listening.”
“I’ve emailed the contracts to you, and I’ll need them back as soon as you can. I need to at least give them a verbal tonight, so I’ve got to have your answer right away. I’m sorry you don’t have more time to think it over, but I’ve been trying to reach you.”
“Right. Right. Yes, I know.” Andrew already knew his answer, of course. There was no way he wasn’t taking this role. He’d have to move like crazy to look over the contract, pack, make arrangements for his flat while he was gone, schedule his flight. There was so much to do in less than 24 hours. His eyes fell on Jesse again, still dabbing at his nose—the bleeding seemed to have almost stopped at least, thank God. Maybe it was just as well things had turned out as disastrously as they had. He’d be gone for months, after all, and it was hard enough for committed couples to handle the separation his profession often called for. It was unrealistic to expect Jesse to wait for him, when they hadn’t even managed to have even their first kiss. No, it was probably better this way. When he got back, if Jesse was still single, then maybe they could see where things might go.
“Well, do you want the job?” his agent asked, cutting into his thoughts.
“Yes. Yes, of course I want the job. Provided the contracts hold no real surprises, I’m in. Thank you,” he added with sincerity. “I’m sorry I jumped on you when you called. And I apologize for being out of pocket. It won’t happen again.”
They wrapped up their conversation with his agent promising to have his assistant get in touch with details and flight information, then Andrew ended the call.
His mind whirring with all he’d have to do, he looked at Jesse helplessly, trying not to think about what ifs.
They stared at each other in silence for a moment then Andrew said, “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
“I understand.”
“Is your nose okay?”
“It will be fine.”
Jesse walked him to the door.
They both hesitated, the earlier tension returning, and Andrew’s eyes flickered to Jesse’s mouth for a second, his heart full of want and regret. He wanted so much to crush Jesse to him and press his lips to his, taste the inside of his mouth. But it wouldn’t be fair. “I’ll call you later and fill you in on the details,” he promised.
Jesse nodded.
“Good luck,” he said softly as Andrew was leaving. Andrew turned to look one last time at that gorgeous face, so beloved and dear, trying not to think about how sad Jesse looked.
Part 3
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Date: 2011-12-14 06:14 pm (UTC)