“Yes, ma’am.” Danny nervously presents me with a gesture, like I’m a magic trick. “This is Romeo. Romeo, this is Denise.”
When she smiles, her eyes glow like green embers. “Mmm, the more the merrier. Come inside, you two! Just about everyone’s here already, plus a few more, and there is so much to eat.” Her gaze falls on me again. “It’s oh-so-nice to meet you, Romeo.”
I smile back.
It isn’t the last thirsty welcome I receive.
When I enter, I am overwhelmed at once by music, flashy lighting, and a lot of eye contact. The place is luxurious and humungous, decorated from floor to ceiling like a damned night club. The condo is packed with mostly men, and a few women sprinkled throughout the crowd. There’s an enormous spread of food, a DJ playing music, and some kind of light display throwing colors and lasers all over the ceiling.
What in ritzy disco hell have I just wandered into?
Denise ushers me in so fast, I lose sight of Danny in seconds. A rather eclectic assortment of faces surround me with greetings. “Uh, hey,” I say to one face, before being instantly swept away by another. “Hi, I’m Romeo,” I greet someone else. “Yes, I’m Danny’s friend. Romeo,” I answer another. “Romeo, right, like the play.” Over and over. “Yep, Danny brought me.” And over. “Romeo’s the name. Hi.”
The women at this party are far and few between, but they’re there, and even they have eyes for me, like they’re wondering just how far my pendulum swings, and whether it might include one of them some wild night.
I don’t even get this much attention at the places I hit up with Jonathan.
Through a slim hole in the crowd, I spot Danny in the kitchen with Denise, the pair of them equipped with glasses of wine already. Danny glances my way, a nervous glint in his eyes. He smiles tentatively.
I smile back.
Then a freckly, rosy-cheeked face appears, blocking my view of Danny. “Hey there, Rome, sir,” he says.
I blink. Wait a sec …
“Do you remember me?” he asks. “I rubbed your feet in a movie theater and fed you popcorn.”
Fuck me. It’s Benjamin-Benny-Bradley-Brian. “Uh …”
“It’s Tim. My name.”
Uh, okay, way off. “Yeah. I remember you.”
“Cool. You look like you gained a lot of muscle since the last time I saw you. Have you become more dominant, too?”
“I dunno. More of an asshole, really.” I peer around his head for Danny, but only barely catch a glimpse of him gazing my way with curiosity before I lose sight of him again.
“I like that, Rome, sir. Maybe we can catch another movie sometime. Or just skip all the boring stuff and go back to my place. Or yours. Do you own rope? Or a ball-gag at the very least? I like more things now.”
Everyone is in the way. I’m drowning in a sea of mindless conversation. “Sure, whatever.”
This is really not the person I want to be stuck talking to right now. The point of tonight isn’t to meet Danny’s coworkers or my past dating nightmares. It’s to continue executing my plan with Danny until he is ready to become all mine.
I finally manage to regain sight of the kitchen—only to find Danny gone. Where’d he go?
“Hmm. Not as much enthusiasm as I’d like, but I can manage. I haven’t had much luck lately in the love department, I guess. Well, as much luck as you can have in such a department when it isn’t love you’re looking for. Not exactly, anyway.”
I need to find Danny. All of this is pointless if he isn’t witnessing it. “Get me a drink and wait for me in the kitchen.”
Tim lifts his eyebrows, instantly converted to an excited puppy. “Oh, really? That’s your order?”
“Yep. I gotta find my friend.”
With that—and before waiting for any response from Tim—I slip away through the crowd, looking for Danny. Did his boss take him off to gossip about me? Why is this place so damned big, yet so damned crowded?
The next thing I know, another face I half-recognize is in front of me, blocking the way. “Oh my god, it is you.”
I look at him, confused. No bells ring. “Sorry?”
“We went out. Maybe a month or two ago. Then I never heard from you again.”
“Sorry, must’ve been a different guy,” I mumble, then scoot around him and continue my pursuit.
Until another pair of men drinking cocktails by the couch spot me. “Hey, don’t I know you?” one of them asks, squinting at me. Then his eyes light up. “Oh, right, it’s you! The guy from King’s who I—”
“Wait,” interjects his friend. “You hooked up with him, too? So did I!” He gawps at me. “It’s been a while since I—Hey, Romeo, you stud, don’t run away. Come chat with us! You never returned my texts.”