Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Lust in London - 3. Chapter 3
The classroom was housed in the hallowed halls of a local university. It was only twice a week, so not too terrible; however the three-hour time devotion was a bit much to sit through. He found out that he had a small group of fans, however, three girls, all very giggly and goofy. They’d cover their hands and whisper to each other in his company. He found this flattering as well as amusing. Didn’t they know? Was their gaydar off by that much? Still, the attention was nice. He wouldn’t shirk that for anything.
Every hour or so brought about the obsession to check his cell phone. Did he call yet? Will he call? Alex chided at himself for acting like an obsessed schoolgirl. He had to focus on the droning professor housed at the front of the room. In a while he could return to daydreaming about Mason.
At long last, the class ended at 4 o’clock. Finally, at 4:30 pm, Alex’s cell phone rang. It was Mason. After the usual small talk, the two had their first awkward silence. It was finally broken by Alex cracking a joke that he’d heard from one of his admirers that day. They both laughed at the same time.
“Hey, you never did tell me all about your job. How long have you been there? Do you make good money at it?” Both took a breath as the story would be revealed.
Alex listened intently as Mason unfolded the tale of how he got his job at the multinational corporation, Palmer, Inc. He was one of their highest-paid sales reps. Alex couldn’t hide his jealously of Mason’s six-figure income. It had been three years since he joined, and never looked back. He loved the UK and everything it had to offer.
“Things have certainly livened up, especially with you in the picture, Alex.” The student felt himself blush. He wondered if it was the hot cell phone or his own lust for the older man.
“I really like the UK too. I have definitely warmed up to it, especially last night.”
“Awesome pie, wasn’t it? I told you it even beat my Mom’s recipe.”
Alex was fairly certain he had a twang that Mason quickly repressed. There was a brief silence. “Yes, that was a bit of my much-repressed country accent you just heard. I’ve tried hard to get rid of it and replace it with my snobby fake British accent.”
Alex grinned. “I like your voice. It gets me through the day.” There was a brief silence; Alex held his breath. He wondered if he’d said something wrong. He heard a subtle laugh on the other end. “Mas…”
“Alex, I’m sorry, I must go. I will call you later on.” The young man stiffened.
“Uh, yeah. Sure. I’ll talk to you later.” He flipped his phone shut before Mason could answer. Dammit. What the hell was that about?
Alex stuffed the phone away in his pocket, uncertain whom he was angrier at more, himself or Mason. He checked his watch, 4:45. He did a quick glance around and straightened his clothing.
“Well, guess that’s that. I’ll go home and wait. Hopefully I’ll get an explanation.”
**
Alex walked home and was welcomed by the wonderful scent of Italian sausage. He slipped inside the door, his nose practically reaching into the air for a hint of it. It led him into the kitchen.
“Holy cow, Paolo, what’re you cooking? That smells amazing!”
The swarthy Spaniard looked up from his creation and smiled at Alex. “This is genuine Italian sausage, and I’m making lasagna with it.”
“Well it’s making my nose jealous of the air! When will we eat?”
Paolo glanced at the clock. “In about an hour or so.”
“An hour?” Alex balked. “But I’m starving right now. Any side dishes?”
Paolo shook his head. His thick, black hair followed slowly after. “There’ll be garlic cheese bread.”
Alex grinned. “Thank goodness, I need something to chew on. It’ll keep me from calling Mason back.”
Paolo raised a brow. “Who’s Mason? Oh, is that the guy you met last night?”
Alex grinned. “Yup. He’s a super hot salesman from Virginia. He’s got long blond hair and a killer ass!”
Paolo chortled. “Well, sounds like you two hit it off.”
“We did. We met at that pub I went to.”
Paolo’s jaw dropped. “You met someone at a pub?” he wagged his head. “I hope you were careful.”
“Oh shit, nothing like that! We walked together and went back to his hotel…”
“Hotel?”
“Relax! It was for pie.”
Paolo scowled. “Pie? Sounds like an odd date to me. What’d you do, order room service?”
Alex frowned and cast a gloomy look at his roommate. “For your information, and this is really none of your business, we didn’t do anything. We ate in the diner in the basement. We parted ways and shook hands good night.”
Paolo rolled his eyes. “You shook hands? I thought you liked this guy.”
Alex sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I do, I really do.
But I can’t just do all that stuff that other guys do. I’m not into quickie relationships.”
Paolo frowned. “Uh, if memory serves me, wouldn’t this be your first relationship?” He walked over the refrigerator and pulled out a large bag of shredded mozzarella cheese. He tore it open and dumped it into the bowl of eggs and ricotta cheese.
Alex nodded. “Yup. In my twenties and finally got a date. What the hell’s your point, Paolo?”
“My point is if this is your first relationship, how the hell do you know what you want out of it? You have nothing to base it on.”
Alex rubbed his hands over his face and rested his chin in them. “Well, what do you suggest, oh master of romance?” They both chuckled.
“Not much. I suggest that you just go with the flow of it.”
“That’s your sage advice?”
“Eh. It’s all I have right now. Sorry, kid.”
Alex shrugged and watched the man finish off stirring the filling for the lasagna. Paolo was quite practiced at cooking and it showed. He didn’t struggle at all, and he expertly placed the perfect dollops of filling to cover the noodles.
Alex let out a breath. “I think of him constantly. He makes me want to question my timeline.”
Paolo looked up from his cooking with a confused look on his face. “Your timeline?”
Alex blushed. “Yeah. Ever since I knew I was gay, I set out a timeline of when I wanted things to happen. He’s making me want to speed things way up! That is, if we’re still speaking.”
Paolo cocked his head and rolled his eyes again. “Okay, I’ll bite. What happened?”
“Well, he called me and we were chatting along just fine, then there was this odd silence. He came back a second later and said he had to go. He said he’d call me back.”
Paolo shook his head. He lovingly covered the culinary art with a thick layer of mozzarella cheese. He kept a few shreds out for himself and his roommate. “Here, have some cheese. Do you think he’ll call you back?”
They devoured the shreds ravenously. Alex finally looked back into Paolo’s eyes. “Am I being a complete stressed-out idiot or what?”
The Spaniard finished chewing and looked back at his roommate. “Look, if you ask me, quit stressing about it. He’ll call you back. If he doesn’t, he’s a jerk, forget him.”
Alex sighed aloud and took another glance at his watch.
“Stop it. You’ll only make it worse. My grandmamma always said a watched pot doesn’t boil. If he wants to call, he’ll call you! Don’t be a lovesick girl.”
Paolo covered the lasagna in aluminum foil. “OK, this is ready for the oven. Could you open the oven door for me?”
“Yeah, sure thing.” Alex stood back as the dinner was loaded into the hot oven.
Paolo set the timer. “There, now we have an hour to chill out. Can you at least try to?”
Alex rolled his eyes. “I think I can try to survive.”
Paolo slung his arm around his friend. “Come on, drama queen. Let’s play one of your video games.”
“Put in Halo, that’s kickass!”
An hour later, Jake came home from his job as a salesman. His tan face tilted up as soon as he walked inside. His hazel eyes lit up like candles. “Damn! What smells so freakin good?”
Alex laughed. “That’s the lasagna Paolo made. It should be ready by now.”
“Yes, Jake. As usual, you are just in time for dinner.” Paolo chided.
Jake scowled for a moment; he knew there was an insult in there somewhere. “Well yeehaw, I don’t care. Let’s rustle up that Italian grub!” Alex and Paolo shared an amused look as Jake walked past.
Alex leaned over and whispered into his friend’s ear. “Yippee-kayay buckaroo.” They both stifled a laugh.
They got their plates and proceeded to divide and engulf the wonderful dish. The garlic cheese bread went quickly too. All three young men sat in silence as their mouths were far too busy eating. Not five minutes after dinner was finished, Jake checked his cell phone. “Oooo, doggie! I gotta run. Got a hot date!” He stood up quickly and jarred the table a bit.
Paolo scowled at him. “Hey, will you watch what you’re doing?”
Jake barely acknowledged his roommate as he barreled out the door and back into the streets of London. The remaining two shook their heads.
“He’s always on the move, isn’t he?” Paolo asked.
Alex was about to respond when his cell phone rang loudly. He grappled for it and picked it up quickly. “Hello? Hi, Mason! How are you?”
Paolo rolled his eyes and stood up to clear the table. Alex ran up to his room to have some privacy.
“How was work? You sound tired.”
“I am. Work was work. Long, dull. Listen, I’m beat. I wanted to see if you’re free tonight, but I don’t think I am. How about we meet tomorrow? I’m off in the afternoon.”
Alex felt his heart race. “Sure! Where do you want to meet?”
“Oh, I can pick you up if you’d like. What’s your address?” Alex felt a shudder of fear. As much as he liked Mason; the trust factor wasn’t there yet.
“Uh, how about I just meet you there instead? It’s supposed to be nice weather out tomorrow. I love to walk.”
“Suit yourself. Meet me in front of the pub where we met. I’ll drive you from there.”
“Sounds good, uh, what time?”
“1 o’clock? I’m bringing us lunch, so don’t worry about food.”
“I’ll see you then. Good night, Mason.”
“Good night, Alex.”
Paolo knocked on the door.
“Come in.”
“So, how’d it go?”
“We’re meeting for lunch tomorrow.”
“Cool! Where at?”
Alex scowled. “Shit. He didn’t say. He’s picking me up at the pub where we met.”
“Be careful. That’s all I gotta say. You’re a good kid, Alex. Don’t wanna call home to your parents and say you were kidnapped on a date.”
Alex had a flash of a police report in his mind. ‘Young American on holiday kidnapped and murdered by traveling businessman.’ He shook his head. “I’ll be alright. I’ve got my cell phone and we’re going to a public place.”
“Cool. Hey, wanna play anymore Halo?”
“Yeah, let’s see if I can get past level two this time!”
- 7
- 1
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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