I cleared my throat and called him over, and Jessica went back to her cubicle.
I steered clear of shock, disbelief, and other inquiries, but only temporarily. After my customer left, Jessica had a customer, so I slipped off to the bathroom to text Tristan.
Hi. I have a question. I hit Send. As I stood next to the door, I reconsidered such a random and ambiguous text, so I clarified. This is Grant, BTW. My question has to do with our relationship and if it is okay for me to tell people because the hickey you gave me is hard to hide and now my coworker is pressuring me to tell her who my boyfriend is and I wasn't sure what I should say because you never told me if you were out in the community and I didn't want to say anything rude or invasive or presumptuous. I hit Send again and waited.
My phone vibrated. "Hello?" I whispered.
"Grant? Why are you whispering?" Tristan asked.
"Because I'm in the bathroom."
"Okay, then just listen. I got your long-winded, rambling, run-on text with no punctuation." He chuckled. "You're one of a kind, Grant. Anyway, tell whomever you wish. I'm not worried about what anyone might think or do. I was in the Navy; I can handle myself. I want you to feel comfortable."
"Okay. Thank you."
"Grant?"
"Yeah?"
"How's your nipple?"
I don't know why hearing that word gave me a little wiggle in my gut, but it did, in a good, I-want-to-hear-it-again sort of way. I supposed that was why some people liked dirty talk-because it fired them up for when those things actually happened. Maybe I could try that sometime with Tristan. Would he like dirty talk, or dirty text? I grinned at the possibilities. I told him, "It's okay. My shirt keeps rubbing against it and it doesn't feel good, but I'll live."
"Do you want me to come over tonight? I could take an ice cube and run it all over those sore spots."
I sucked in a breath. "Don't some people use ice cubes for erotic foreplay?"
He snickered loudly. "Yes, I think they do, but you don't need to refer to it as ‘erotic,' since that's implied. Foreplay by definition is for erotic stimulation before sex. As far as the ice is concerned, the cold is shocking and stimulating at the same time. But in your case, it might make your nipples feel better."
"Okay." There wasn't much more I could say to his proposal. It sounded intriguing.
"Listen, I gotta go. I'll be over around nine. I have to work late. I'm really behind. I might have to hire someone to help with the books. I'm normally on top of invoices and billing, but after meeting you, I can't seem to get it all done."
My heart sank. I was keeping him from doing his job. What if his business went under because of me? What if the IRS showed up for unpaid taxes? What if he couldn't pay his employees because he didn't bill the customers who owed him money?
"Grant," he said sternly. "I can hear your gears turning. Stop thinking it's your fault. I've been working twelve- to fourteen-hour days for as many years as I can remember. I told you I'm married to my work. That isn't healthy. Meeting you, and soon marrying you, made me think about my priorities. I don't want to work myself into an early grave. I want to spend some of my time enjoying life while I'm still young enough. I do have to go, I wasn't kidding, but we can talk about this another time. It's not your fault. The only thing you did was flip those pens over and blush at me. You had no control over my falling in love with you."
I sighed. He said the most beautiful things.
"Grant?" Jessica called from the other side of the door before she knocked insistently.
"I'll be right out," I called back to Jessica. I told Tristan, "I have to go."
"Go. I'll see you after nine."
"Okay. Bye." I hung up the phone and slipped it into my pocket before opening the door.
Jessica asked, "Are you all right? You've been in there a long time. Are you sick?"
"No. I'll be fine." I walked back to my window with Jessica on my heels. She grabbed the drive-thru window and left me be, but it was only a matter of time before I had to answer all her questions. Tristan seemed fine with it.
When I went to lunch, Jessica cornered me. "Let's go to Buffalo Wild Wings to eat lunch," she said.
"You're not on lunch."
"No, I'm off. I had a dentist appointment, but they changed it, so I decided to keep my half day and go shopping, but shopping isn't as interesting as talking to you. So let's go to lunch."
I put away my peanut butter and jelly sandwich and followed her out of the bank. Luckily the restaurant was just across the parking lot, so we didn't have to drive. They were also slow this afternoon, so we got seated right away. After we ordered, Jessica pounced. "So? Details."
I took a cleansing breath and readied myself for her reaction. "Okay. Do you want the slow buildup, or an info dump?"
"Just tell me. Is it someone I know? Did you meet him at the bank? It's not that skeezy Mr. Palmer, is it? Because that's all kinds of wrong."
"Eww, no, I'm dating Tristan Carr."
She narrowed her eyes and stared at me. Then her confusion morphed into astonishment. "What?" She paused. "When? How?"
I lifted my shoulders. "We went out for a beer, and things sort of progressed from there."
"Holy Moses. I don't believe it. He doesn't even look gay."
"Not all gay men wear signs," I declared. The argument was getting old. I'd heard waaay too many times how someone or other "didn't act gay" or "didn't look gay." Those assumptions irked me. Some guys were not obvious. Jeez. When would people get it through their heads that some gay men looked and acted just like straight men? Not every one of us was flamboyant. Not all gay men spoke with a lisp. Not every one of us ogled men's asses to the point of getting caught. Yes, I mentally cleared my throat. Guilty as charged.
The waitress brought our drinks, and Jessica unwrapped her straw. "I know, Grant. I didn't mean to offend you. I guess I'm shocked, is all. He seemed straight, and doesn't he have a daughter? I thought she came in with him before." Jessica sipped her soda and listened.
"He does. She's fifteen. It happened back when he was still figuring himself out. The baby momma is kind of mean, so I'm glad he never married her." I hadn't seen Claire in the bank, but that didn't mean Tristan hadn't brought her with him before I started working there.
"Baby momma?" she repeated and then started laughing.
"I know, that came out wrong. I'm not sure what else to call her. She's not very nice." The waitress brought some chips and salsa for us to munch. "Thank you," I said.
Jessica dipped a chip and asked, "You've met her?"
"Yeah. Last Saturday morning she showed up at Tristan's while I was still in my underwear. Talk about embarrassing."
Her jaw dropped. "Whoa. You spent the night? How long have you known him?"
"Four weeks on Friday. But it's not what you think; we didn't have sex." I don't know why I felt the need to clarify. It wasn't as if I was a minor or anything. I was an adult. Tristan was an adult. What we did together as consenting adults was no one's business but ours, even if we'd only known each other four weeks. Yet even if I didn't need to spill details, I kept going and said, "In fact, we're getting married Saturday."
Her chin nearly hit the table this time. "What? That's incredible. I don't believe you."
"It's true. I know it's fast, but part of the reason has to do with the baby momma and her insinuation that all gay men hump like rabbits and never commit. I got pissed. And Tristan's visitation agreement was challenged. It was a whole big ordeal. In short, we're getting married, and he plans to file for full custody. Claire's mother apparently drinks often and has revolving affairs. She accused Tristan of the same thing and said she'd never let Claire come over if he brought guys home."
Jessica reasoned, "And it won't happen if you're married."
"No. It will be me and Tristan."
She patted the back of my hand and corrected, "You and Tristan, the two gay dads."
I sat back, realizing she was right. Not only was I jumping into marrying a guy I hardly knew, I was agreeing to be a stepdad … of a teenager. "Oh, shit. I'll be a stepdad."
"Sorry, Grant, but I think this is moving too quickly. You two may have had noble reasons, but getting married is huge for most people. Getting married with older children is colossal."