Tequila Revelations - 1. Chapter 1

“Hasshhh anyone told you how good looking you are, Artie?” John slurred in my ear.

Here I was trying to do my impression of a crutch to the Incredible Hulk's little brother as we staggered down the street when he made me blush so hard I nearly dropped him on his drunk ass. I'm no slouch, I'm a big guy, but he was one step away from being dead weight at this point. I was really hoping none of the other people walking the sidewalk could hear his rambling.

“Shut up, man.”

“No serioushhly, Artie.” John motioned awkwardly with an uncoordinated hand to make his point. “You work out, girlsssh love you. You sshould be the one getting married, not me.”

“Dude, you're not allowed to have tequila anymore. It makes you stupid.” I was giggling like a fool. The tequila had me pretty warm at this point too. I just would have thought he'd outlast me.

It was about midnight. We had gotten kicked out of the bar when John started to get a little rowdy. What did you expect? It was his bachelor party for Christ's sakes. Not that it was much of one. John's fiancée, Tiffany, had made it very clear through the other firefighters’ wives that there would be no party and certainly no strippers. When the wives got on board with that idea, the party concept got quashed. The fight the two had over it almost broke them up, but ultimately John caved to her. As the best man, I had to do something. All John was willing to do was go to a local pub and get his drink on, so I helped him.

Tiffany was a pretty red headed girl who suffered from what I saw as serious insecurity. As soon as she hooked into John, she demanded his time and spent a great deal of energy in separating him from his friends. Namely, me. She was the kind of girl who waited until the Super Bowl started to insist on having a serious talk instead of having it beforehand and had no problem berating him publicly. I found her insufferable.

John insisted she was completely different when they were alone. He said she was sweet and caring and could perform sexual feats that hookers could learn from. He fell madly in love with her as soon as they met. I saw that stupid grin she gave him from the beginning and knew my best bud days were numbered.

John and I had met about five years before when the building I was living in went up in flames from a drunk neighbor trying to burn his garbage in the trash chute. I was trapped on my third floor apartment and he was the firefighter that got me out safely. I made a point to shake his hand.

I suppose I should have been thankful about the fire. It forced me to move into the living space above the gym I owned. Trying to keep some distance between work and my life, I stupidly spent money on two rents when I didn't need to. When I moved, everything was a lot simpler.

Not long afterwards, John joined my gym to get some space from the fire house. I recognized him and we clicked. A fast friendship formed and before long we were spending all our time together. We talked about work, sports, girls and action flicks. We went camping together and took road trips to strip clubs. My mom used to harp on me constantly about finding a nice girl to marry. I couldn't see the point; I could get laid whenever I wanted. John was my bud that I hung out with all the time; he was my confidant. Life was good. What the hell did I need to get married for?

Now here we were, the two drunken stooges, ambling down the sidewalk to get back to my place because I wasn't sure how much longer he could stand upright. Not that he was doing so hot of a job of that right now. John's big meaty arm was a lead weight around my shoulders and it was taking a great deal of my strength holding him around the waist to keep him from kissing the pavement. Part of me wished I could drop him at Tiffany's to see the look of disapproval on her face at his condition. Sometimes I wondered if I could get the little vein in her forehead to burst and save my best friend.

“Why are you giggling?” John asked. His head hung on a weak swivel, swinging in wide arcs.

“I just had a happy thought.” Not being sure I could keep a secret in this state, I struggled to keep my grin in check.

“That's what I like about you, Artie. You're so happy.” John's eyes were half-shut as the silly grin spread over his face. “You're the best friend ever.”

John was the big goofy lug that you couldn't help but like. He was the genuine nice guy who was too shy to ask a girl out but on the job was another person entirely. I liked to get him to drink and let down his inhibitions. He was such a fun drunk. Even so, I was praying he wouldn't puke all over me as we worked our way home. He never had before, but we'd never gotten into the tequila shots like this in the past.

If walking down the street wasn't enough of a challenge, going up the stairs to my apartment was way worse. I dropped him twice and hoped I hadn't bruised up his face before I got him in the front door.

I didn't even bother to turn on the lights. As soon as I dumped him on the couch, the big blond doofus curled up into a ball and started to snore. He looked ridiculous. This giant of a man didn't fit on my furniture, but I didn't have the energy to try to move him. There he landed, there he stays.

While I wasn't as smashed as John was, I was far from sober and could hear the voice from the bed calling my name. Somehow I managed to walk through to the bedroom without kicking anything over. It was the middle of July, so I stripped down completely and slid under the comfy sheets of my king size bed. It took no time at all before I drifted away.

* * *

“Dude.”

Why did the hot blond in my dream sound like John?

“Artie.”

Why is my bed shaking?

“Dude, wake up.”

I pried open my left eye and when I realized I was facing the wall I turned over. Shaking my bed with one of his oversized paws was John looking like a little kid. His short hair was matted up on one side and his polo shirt was twisted around his ample torso. One of his eyes was nearly pinched shut to match the grimacing snarl he sported. He looked like Popeye the Sailor.

“John, what's wrong?”

The snarl turned into a frown. “The couch is too small. I don't fit. Lemme sleep here with you.”

At this point I just wanted to go back to the nice dream I was having, but I was starting to sport some serious wood from it. That was a little closer than our friendship had been before. I was a little weirded out by it, but it was my best bud.

“I don't care, but I'm not wearing anything under here, man.”

John froze. Most guys would have walked back to the couch with that comment. He stood there a minute fidgeting, seeming to contemplate whether sleeping next to a naked man would be crossing some boundaries. If I got back to sleep, I didn't care what he did. I was so close to dropping back off into dreamland.

Until he peeled off his shirt.

We've worked out together a lot over the years and my gym has a big shower room, no enclosures. I've seen John naked and soaped up a thousand times and never thought of it twice. As soon as the glow from the street lamp hit his bare skin I was wide awake. I was painfully aware of the thick muscles in his chest and the line of his abdomen. I almost gasped when he peeled off his pants and underwear in one sweep. A strong shadow defined the line from his hip into his groin. My eyes followed the path until it reached the thick sleeping organ between his legs. The mattress sank as John climbed into the bed and rolled away from me. A soft rumbling snore began almost immediately.

My chest was thumping a hard beat as I turned back over towards the wall. I felt a little odd and confused by my ragged breathing. The erection that had begun from the dream was now a raging hardness. I ignored it. I must have still been intoxicated.

* * *

It was still dark out when I woke up again. You would think after all this time I would know that I never sleep soundly under the influence by now. Either I would sleep lightly through the night or pass out periodically and be awake in odd surges. It looked like this time was the latter.

Still a little woozy, I climbed out of bed. John's breathing still had a growling underscore but I didn't find it disturbing in the least. It was like white noise that threatened to lull me back to sleep. I padded into the bathroom and relieved myself. I watched myself in the oversized mirror and wondered what was wrong with me.

I knew I was attractive. Not in some vain self-involved way, but I knew how women reacted around me. I was fit and never seemed to have difficulty in finding a partner to share my bed. I knew more than a few women that I could call at a moment's notice and have them knocking on my door. The only problem was my interest in being close to any of them ended around the time the used condom hit the trash can.

My mother kept telling me that no man in his thirties should be roaming around so much without any prospects for settling down. Maybe she was right. John was days away from tying the knot, and even though I didn't like his choice, I knew he'd be happy. I wish I felt like I could be.

What was wrong with me? Why couldn't I connect with any of these intelligent, attractive women that vied for my attention? What element was missing in my life that meant I could have a normal, potentially satisfying relationship with someone else?

I shook my head hard to break my train of thought. The last thing I needed right now was a tequila-induced depression to finish off what had been a great evening. Time to go back to bed. I flushed, washed up and nearly ran head first into John standing in the hallway.

He was still nude and I made a point not to look below the waist. Fiercely powerful in the night shadows, his appearance made me catch my breath. In the dark I could barely see his eyes, but they made me feel strangely like prey. I was acutely aware that I wasn't wearing anything as well.

“Artie?”

“Yeah, John? What's up?” My mouth seemed strangely dry as my breathing began to quicken.

“I have a favor to ask you. You're the only one I can trust with this.”

“Okay. Spill it.”

“I want to do something and I need to do it before I get married.” John stepped closer to me and I reflexively stepped back. The wall at my back halted my retreat.

“You don't have much time left, then.”

“I just want to do it to be sure there's nothing there but me being curious is all.”

I swallowed nervously. “What do you want to do?”

John paused. “I want to know what it's like to hook up with a guy.” He kept inching closer still. The subtle scent of his cologne was making it hard to think.

“John, that's the tequila talking.” Was that my heart making all that noise suddenly?

“Probably, but how else am I supposed to get up the nerve?”

“How am I supposed to help you?” The question even sounded weak to my ears. I could feel something rigid and silky brushing my hip and slowly rising upwards. I refused to look down as his body's warmth added to the summer night's.

“You're the only one I know that I can ask about this. I want to try it out with you.”

My voice broke slightly. “John, I like girls.”

“Oh, I know you like girls. But you don't really keep them around for long, do you? You can have just about any woman who comes along, but you'd dump any of them if I called you up to share a pizza and a six pack. I'm thinking that in the end, being with another guy wouldn't be so hard for you.”

In that one sentence, I became the shy one and John was suddenly the astute experienced one. I couldn't speak. The realization hit me in the chest; the truth made my pulse race. The slightest hint of sweat dampened my brow, but I couldn't say I was scared. It was some other foreign emotion that was complicating and exciting. I placed my hand on his chest to halt his progression, but I wasn't making a real effort. I was too enthralled in how the touch of fine silken hair was making little fiery surges in my palms. John's head dipped down, his heated breath along my neck drew an uncontrollable shudder along my skin.

“Tell me no, Artie and I'll drop the whole thing and this conversation never happened,” he husked.

No words formed as my cock did the talking for me. My hardened member greeted his, sliding along his length, matching his thickness. The growl at the back of his throat made me forget any fleeting protest my mind had formed.

“That's what I thought.”

A whimper escaped me when his mouth covered mine. The kiss was tentative at first, but he quickly grew bolder. It was similar to kissing a woman, but a tear ran down my neck when I realized it was so much better. My hands rose up his neck and into his hair and I lost all inhibition as his tongue met mine.

I couldn't stop pressing into him as I lost myself in the first kiss that ever made me forget myself. All the women who came before were nothing compared to this crystal clear moment of self-awareness. I nearly began to weep.

I was frozen in place and panting in heat when John finally broke away. His large hands pressed me to the wall as stubbled chin chewed its way down my neck, then my chest and below. Still swimming in a fog, I couldn't understand what he was about to do until he took a firm grip of my aching organ. He contemplated for scant seconds before my cock was suddenly surrounded by his scorching mouth.

John was sloppy, but eager and I was struggling not to explode; it was just that good. How could a man I knew to be a novice have such natural skill that experienced women never showed me in all my years? Was I simply waiting for this?

I was nearly at an end when John pulled away. Panting hard on his knees, he licked his lips before he grabbed my waist and stood, throwing me over his shoulder. How strong was he? The hallway flew by me upside down. The world spun and I landed in the middle of my bed with John crawling over me. He spun himself around and moved along my side, heading back to my cock and I found myself facing his.

It was obvious to me what he was expecting now. I was the guy that rarely went down on a woman because I'd rather do something else. Now, the swollen flesh glistened in arousal and beckoned to me. I wasn't sure if I was ready until he swallowed me once again and all my reservations faded. As soon as it passed my lips I knew there was no going back; it felt so right. How could I have gone so long without tasting a man like this? I channeled every trick that every girl I'd ever known had used to entertain me. Lost in the haze, I can honestly say I wasn't thinking in coherent sentences. With the pair of us grunting and feeding on each other like famine victims, it wasn't long before the end was approaching.

John's cock swelled larger in my mouth and he began moaning around the organ down his throat and I knew it was coming. As he lost his control he swallowed me whole to muffle the outcry. I didn't even flinch at the taste of his seed and the sensation of his orgasm with all its spasms and quaking, knowing that I was responsible made me return the favor.

When we disengaged, I was still gasping at the best orgasm of my life, his taste still fresh on my lips. John stalked over me on all fours and nearly snarled. His eyes were dark and lidded in lust.

“I'm not done with you yet,” he growled.

* * *

John was still sleeping as I watched my cup of coffee grow cold. I had aches in places I never would have linked to pleasure before. Apparently, John had an old girlfriend who used anal sex as a form of birth control. I couldn't believe I’d let him inside me. I couldn't believe I came twice more before he finally finished and we fell asleep. The urge to climb back in bed with him was strong but I resisted it. John wasn’t mine to keep and that made me sad. What the hell had happened last night? Did we just flush our friendship?

I kept telling myself that it was just an experiment. There was no way that all my elusive liaisons and lack of permanent partners over the years could be summed up by simply not preferring women. It couldn’t be. Yet there was the truth, sleeping in my bed, the scent of sweat and sex still present on my skin. I told myself I should shower, but a little voice in my head said if you do, you’ll lose the only proof of the best night of your life.

It wasn’t the idea of being with men that frightened me. If last night was any sign, I enjoyed it more than any other debauched night I’d had up until now. It was the idea that I’d been in such denial for so long that I might have grown old alone not understanding what was at the core of loneliness.

I crushed my eyes shut as I rubbed my face hard in frustration. Was I really gay? Would everything change? I didn’t know what I was supposed to do next. What would the next few days bring?

Oh, God. The wedding was in two days and I’m the best man. Would I be able to go through with it now that it’s all different? Could I face John?

A firm hand on my shoulder answered for me. “You okay, Artie?”

I turned to face John. He was looking a little rough and nowhere near as hung over as he should have been. He had taken the time to get dressed, but still looked like he could go back to bed in an instant. The stubble on his jaw that burned my skin last night looked amazingly sexy as he smiled sheepishly. My mind immediately flashed to the strength in his arms as he held me down and the thick muscles that challenged mine.

Damn it. I was in love with my best friend.

“Yeah . . . yeah, I’m good,” I replied. The coffee in my cup seemed very important to me once again so I fixated on it.

John rounded the small table so he could sit opposite me. “I’m really sorry about last night.”

“Don't be. It was hardly rape, John.”

“I just don’t want to think I made you do something you didn’t want to do.”

“You didn’t.” I still couldn’t look him in the eye. “How long had you been thinking about it?”

“I’m not sure. I guess I’ve always been a little curious. Since I got engaged, I’ve been thinking about it more. Especially after the argument we got into over the bachelor party. I wanted to be sure I wasn’t making a mistake. I guess it took a little tequila to give me the nerve to ask.”

“I’d say a lot of tequila.”

“I just don’t want you to hate me.”

“Hate is not the word I’d use right now.”

An uneasy silence filled the room. John squirmed in his chair, his handsome face bleeding into a troubled frown. I simply didn’t know what to say. I palmed my coffee mug, its warmth long since gone and finally spoke when I couldn’t stand the silence.

“Did you get your answer?” My pulse echoed in my ears. I was terrified by what he might say next.

“Yeah,” John nodded, “I did.” He took a quick breath and focused on me. “Last night was pretty awesome. I’m glad you didn’t say no. You’re the only one I would ever trust with something this big.”

“And. . . ,” I whispered.

He shrugged slightly. “I still like women more. I still want to marry Tiffany.”

Sitting perfectly still across the table from my best friend, I died a little inside. This was what true heartache felt like. I was in love with John and he didn’t share the same feelings.

“What about you?” he asked. I put on a brave face.

“I think the jury’s still out on me.” John’s eyes widened. That was not the statement he was expecting. “I think I learned a lot about myself last night.”

“Really? You think you’re gay?” I winced. I wasn’t ready to use the G-word just yet even if it did sound so correct. John’s weight shifted back in his chair as he reflected. “I figured your ego could handle fooling around, but I didn’t think you’d switch sides so easy.”

“I wouldn’t call it easy, just a sudden revelation.”

“Are you sure? I mean, last night could have just been the tequila talking.”

“No. I’m pretty sure I found what was missing, what kept it all from working out.” My brow furrowed. “I’m having trouble picturing being with a woman right now.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, wow.”

John sat there mildly stunned. “Do you feel better knowing now?”

“I don’t know. Kind of . . . but not. It’s a huge change. I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’m a little scared.”

“Nothing between us has changed, Artie. You and me, we’re still best buds. You’re still my best man. Who you end up with in bed doesn’t change that.” That was where he was wrong. It changed everything, but he didn't see it. John was still my best friend. “I still love you, man.”

That was the worst stab of all. Not that he said he loved me, but that he said it like a buddy with no romantic overtones. John couldn't be the man I wanted, but I still needed him. Even if he was still going through with his wedding, I could still tend to his happiness while I found a way to forge my own. It would have to be enough.

“Love you too, man.”

I took a hidden deep breath to center myself when I found John sitting there trying to contain a grin.

“What the hell are you grinning at?” I asked.

“I ruined you for all other women.” The smile was no longer hidden.

“Ha. . . Ha. . . ,” I deadpanned. “Yes, you have a magic dick that makes people want to sleep with as many men as possible. You might want to remember that the next time you sleep with Tiffany.”

There. That wiped the grin off his face. Fucker.

* * *

I didn't think I'd be able to watch my best friend get married. Certainly not watch as he tied himself to a woman I didn't like, or perhaps was simply jealous of. It was a lot to ask of me, but John really didn't know what made it so hard and I didn't tell him. His happiness was more important to me than my own.

I stood by him in the chapel and handed him the ring on cue. I smiled and applauded when the minister pronounced them man and wife and somehow managed not to turn away when they kissed. I raised my glass at the reception and saluted John and his bride and managed not to use the words: whore, gold digger or the C-word that would get me thrown out on my ass. His smile was enough to make me forget all of my issues and be the man he needed me to be. Even if he couldn't be the one that I needed.

“Make John happy and dance with me,” Tiffany said. I grudgingly allowed her to drag me to the dance floor only because John was watching. She was gorgeous even if she didn't deserve to wear white.

“Artie, I wanted to thank you for all the nice things you said in your speech.”

“You’re welcome. I hope the two of you are really happy together.”

“Me too. I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Even though I was supposed to be leading I felt her direct our steps. I would have resisted, but my curiosity peaked as we found ourselves in the middle of the floor away from the other dancers who were content to stay on the fringes. There would be no one within earshot when she decided to finally speak up.

“After the reception, I don't want you spending any time with John anymore.”

I almost laughed in her face. “Excuse me?”

“He told me about the other night, Artie. John said he wanted to have a clear conscience before we got married. I forgave him. I know it was a one-off and he swore it would never happen again, but I don't want you influencing him.”

I could feel the flush in my face. Ashamed and offended, I barely managed to keep us moving. There was no way I was going to let her force me out of my best friend's life, no matter who she was. I swallowed down my embarrassment and found a confidence I wouldn't have expected.

“I think it's up to John to decide who he wants to be friends with.”

“If you don't go away, I'll tell him how you're in love with him.”

I stopped dancing. Tiffany stared me down and a small satisfied smirk appeared before she pulled at my shoulder. I snapped out of it and forced our dance to begin again.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” I choked.

She scoffed. “Don't lie to me, Artie. I see the way you look at him when you think no one's watching. I don't give a shit if you're gay. I just don't want you touching my husband.”

“I didn't start anything.”

“No, but you didn't say no either. I've always wondered if you were just in the closet with all the girls you'd go through. More interested in hanging with the guys than getting laid. Now I know for sure. I don't want you around John or our baby.”

I was shocked. “You're pregnant?” Tiffany nodded softly at me. “Does John know?”

“Don't say a word. It's his wedding night surprise. He's always wanted a family.” I couldn't believe what I was hearing. My indignation quickly overcame whatever discomfort I was feeling.

“Is the baby his?”

Her green eyes flared. “How dare you–” Before she could say more I pulled her close and spun her along the parquet floor. I whispered sharply in her ear.

“Now, now. Everyone's watching, let's not make a scene.”

Moving along the floor, I could feel how pissed off she was. Not that I cared. The baby was nothing more than a method to cement her relationship with John in a way he couldn't resist. A shame she didn't know as much as she thought.

“John can't have children, Tiffany.”

“What?” I forced her to keep moving to prevent the onlookers from guessing anything was awry.

“His parents didn't have the kids vaccinated because they didn't believe in it and were home schooling. He got the mumps when he was nineteen. It's a statistical improbability that he can have children. John probably didn't tell you because he was afraid you might not marry him. He really loves you.” The fear in her eyes couldn't be faked. But there was something more there as well. It was something I saw in my own reflection the past few days as I tried to convince myself that John couldn't be mine.

“I didn't plan it. When we argued over the bachelor party, we didn't see each other for days. I ran into an ex at the bar. It was a stupid moment I couldn't take back.” Guilt threatened to mar the beautiful woman in front of me. I wanted to chastise her for what happened, but had I really been any better over my night of tequila-driven lust?

“Do you really love him?”

“Yes,” she whispered, eyes glistening. “Everyone in my life has walked out on me. I can't let that happen with John.”

One sentence with all the quiet emotion I couldn't utter said it all. She may have been scheming and insecure, but even though I wanted it to be a giant fabricated lie, I honestly believed she wanted John.

“Then listen up. I'm giving you another chance. John's the only one here I care about and for some reason he thinks the world of you. I've never said a bad word to him about you because I can't stand to see him sad. As good a man as he is, he'll probably treat the baby as a miracle and love it as his own. He never thought he'd get to be a father. Now, I'm giving you the chance to be the wife and mother that man thinks you can be. I won't interfere or cause problems, but you can bet I'll be watching. If you hurt him with all your crazy bullshit, I will make it my mission in life to ruin you personally, professionally and financially. Be a good wife to him and I might even be able to be your friend too.”

Tiffany looked at me questioningly, no doubt able to get a grasp on what I was offering. For the first time since I'd met her, she seemed to regard me as something other than an obstacle to her betrothed. Her gentle smile was just starting to return when I felt a light tap on my shoulder.

“Can I cut in?” John asked. He looked dashing in his tuxedo and his radiant smile made me want to push her aside. Following his gaze, the groom's sky blue eyes were all about the bride.

I passed Tiffany to her husband. “She's all yours, bud.”

Tiffany kissed my cheek lightly as she was collected by her husband. “Thank you, Artie.”

John swept her up into the music's pace, lost in his new wife's arms and I quietly slipped off the dance floor. I worked my way to the bar and placed it at my back while I watched the newlyweds tripping the light fantastic. John and Tiffany couldn't take their eyes off each other as they spun and flowed to the music's beat, oblivious to the crowd that caught their every move. There was a real chance they would make a future for themselves. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't envious.

I started noticing the other men at the reception, evaluating them in a way that had never consciously occurred before. None of them measured up, my heart still pined for my best friend. But John was glowing. In my eyes, he matched the splendor of the bride and made my eyes mist. He was happy. That was all that mattered.

I turned to the bartender and ordered a shot of tequila. The glass felt solid in my hand as I caught the eye of the groom as he shifted off the dance floor. I raised my glass in salute. He nodded to me as his smile warmed and pinched my chest. A lick of salt, the taste of smoky liquor and the bite of lime wished John the life he always wanted and said goodbye to the last visages of my shrinking heterosexuality.

* * *

I saved my file and closed my laptop just before I heard my husband stepping into the den.

Tiffany had made good on my demand and she and John were sickeningly happy. She had learned to stop being so territorial around me and showered John and their son with true devotion. Tiffany and I had made an uneasy peace at first, but we've managed to become, strangely, good friends. John and I were still close. Not as close as two bachelors could be, but we were still in each other’s lives and my love for him eventually evolved into a form of intense brotherhood.

“Artie, it's after 3 A.M. Why are you up so late?” Luis was adorable when he just woke up. Five years and my husband had yet to break the habit of household nudity. With a body like that, I was hardly going to object being greeted by his furry chest and chiseled flesh.

“I didn't realize it was so late. My anthology submission for my writer's group is due. I wanted to finish it.”

Luis strolled behind me and wrapped his dense arms around my neck, palming my chest. “What's it about?”

“I wrote it about the night I came out.” I felt the tension that sprang up in his muscles.

“You wrote a story about the night you and John slept together?”

I sighed as Luis pulled away from me. No matter how much we loved each other, John had always been a source of friction between us. Luis still had difficulty with our history; unrequited love was a ghost he sometimes felt he couldn't compete with. Not that there was ever a competition. I loved Luis without question. He was the only one I wanted to share my life and bed with. Now and forever.

“The theme was 'A Night to Remember.' It's what came to mind.”

“I wish you could forget that night,” he sulked.

“Why would you want that?” I reached out and took his hand. “If it wasn't for that drunken night, I might never have realized that I needed a man in my life. I might never have come out of a very deep closet I was living in. I might never have met you.

“John is a very important person to me and he always will be. I owe him my life. God only knows how I'd have ended up if we hadn't gotten into the tequila that night. I didn't have the benefit of growing up knowing who I really was. He stayed my friend and didn't judge when I stopped dating women completely. He was my sole support; my mother is barely coming around after she found out she wasn't getting grandchildren.

“Coming out was difficult. I didn't know how to meet anyone.” I squeezed Luis' hand, sending as much warmth as I could. “Thank God, you made it easy for me.”

“Easy?” His charming smile was beginning to show. “It took me months to figure out your schedule at the gym to finally corner you in the showers alone.”

I snorted. Luis had been a regular at my gym and I never realized all his attempts at conversation and bugging me for fitness tips he didn't need was his way at getting my attention. If he hadn't come forward and molested me in the shower one evening, I might never have come around.

“I'm glad I got to you before you went through your slutty period. I might never have been able to snare you.”

“I think I went through that before I came out.”

“You still made me work awfully hard for it, though.”

Luis was right. Even after he came after me, I held him at bay. I had tried to go out on a few dates unsuccessfully, but I never connected with anyone I wanted more with. It had been several months after the wedding when Luis and I had started seeing each other, but I insisted on keeping it casual, even if we were sleeping together. Luis seemed to understand; I was newly out and scared out of my mind.

The sad part was we really had a good time together. For almost a year, we hung out in sports bars, watched bad action flicks and even found a fondness for carnival games when the circus came into town. John and Tiffany loved him. They even invited him over for a few barbeques. It should have been perfect. But, slowly John stopped starring in my nightly fantasies and Luis became the face I couldn't stop seeing at night. Luis became the man that made me happy at the mere thought of spending time with him.

So I panicked. I treated him like all those women that came before and pushed him farther away.

In retrospect, I shouldn't be surprised he walked out on me.

We hadn't seen each other for about three months when I ran into him at a local sports bar. I was sitting at the bar watching the game on the big screen and he was on a date. My beer suddenly lost its taste. We struck up a polite conversation when he ordered a drink and I couldn't help telling him what a mistake I made and didn't want to let him go.

To make my point clear, I kissed him in front of everyone. I have to admit, I didn't care that I pissed off the guy he was with. It created quite a scene. Five years later, and we haven't been back to that bar since.

“Why did you put up with me for so long?” I asked.

“Because I knew once you got over your shit, you'd be worth it.”

His brown eyes were so beautiful. Rich chocolate with the sheen of glass, they accented his olive skin perfectly. Once I locked onto them, he never lost my gaze as he climbed into my lap and wrapped his arms around me.

“I'm sorry I have such a problem with John.” A feather light kiss graced my lips in apology. “I'm just not accustomed to the idea of being best friends to an ex.”

“I understand, but John was never an ex. If he was, I don't think I'd still be that close with him.”

“I know. I just get a little insecure I guess.”

I reached up with both hands and cupped his face, ensuring that I had his full focus.

“You have nothing to be insecure about. Luis, I love you. You're the only one I want. You're the only one I dream about. For now and forever.”

The kiss he planted on me made my heart race. I now had what I'd always needed and wanted, but simply didn't know what it was. Luis was the one that made me realize that even though John wasn't the first man I wanted, there was enough love in me to not make him the last. I would never forget how one evening of sweat, sex and tequila with a dose of heartache made me who I am. Deliriously happy, I wouldn't have changed a thing.

“I love you too, Artie. Now come to bed and let me give you a good story about us to write about.”

I couldn't stop from giggling. “I already have written about us.”

“What do you mean?”

“Remember how to celebrate my birthday, you played naked butler for a day?”

Luis chuckled as he dragged me to the bedroom. “You're a dead man, Artie.”