Dear Mr. Brody by A.M. Johnson

Donovan

“You didn’t have to buy me dinner,” Wilder said as he pulled out a chair on the other side of the table.  “I’m not opposed to bribes from most people, but I would’ve spoken to your class either way.”

“I appreciate it, this is my way of saying thank you. I hope Jax doesn’t mind.”

Wilder’s head lilted back as he laughed. “Jax is probably grateful to have a night to himself without me buzzing around making him crazy. Believe it or not, I’m a lot to handle.”

From what I’d heard from Anders, and from my own interactions with Wilder, I could understand how his strong personality might not be for everyone. He took a look around the restaurant, and I followed his gaze, taking in the wide-open floor plan. Steel beams and exposed brick created a minimalist atmosphere. The brewery opened a few weeks ago and had gotten rave reviews. With his overgrown shaggy hair, and trendy clothes, Wilder fit in with the young-looking crowd even though he was older than me. I, on the other hand, stood out like a sore thumb. In slacks and a button down, I was the most overdressed person in the place. As if the universe wanted to pour salt in my wound, a group of what looked like college-aged kids walked in the front door.

“I shouldn’t have picked a place so close to campus,” I said with a resigned exhale and lifted my menu.

“I think… yeah… isn’t that guy in your class?” Wilder asked and my stomach fell about three stories.

Marcos Basulto stood near the hostess stand chatting with the small group that had just walked in a minute ago. I did a quick sweep, looking for Parker, and a weird sensation hit my stomach when I realized he wasn’t there. I swallowed, assuming it was unease, dealing with students outside of the classroom wasn’t something I’d prepared for or wanted. When my gaze found its way back to Marcos, a slow smile spread across his face as he waved his polished fingers at me.

“Oh fuck,” I said, sinking a little lower in my chair. “Yeah, he’s in my class.”

“I think he’s coming over here.”

“Shit. What should I do?”

Wilder laughed and wrinkled his nose. “I don’t know… say hi? What’s the big deal?”

“Hey, Mr. B.” Marcos smiled down at me with pink-painted lips. “Small world.”

“Mr. Basulto, it’s… good to see you.”

“Don’t worry,” he said with a quick flourish of his hand. “I won’t hover, just had to stop by so I could brag to Parker that I saw you. He’ll be so disappointed.”

Heat crawled up my neck and pooled in my cheeks. “Ah…”

“I love your shoes,” Wilder cut in, saving me from the strained conversation. “Bella Lou?”

“The one and only.” Marcos took a step back, the awkward moment on pause as we all stared at his feet. He had on dangerous-looking green heels at least three-inches tall. I would’ve broken my neck trying to stand, let alone walk in those things. But Marcos jutted his hip, and pointed to his toe, his tight jeans and high heels accentuating his long legs. “I got them for fifty-percent off.”

“No shit? How?” Wilder asked.

“I work there.”

“You work at Bella Lou Boutique?” Wilder gawked at me, but I had no clue what the hell they were talking about. “I’m insanely jealous. I never go in because I can’t justify the price.”

“I thought you were like a famous, bestselling author?” Marcos asked.

“Not that famous.” Wilder grimaced. “But fifty-percent off, I can handle that.”

“Come in anytime.” Marcos glanced toward the front. “I’ll let you guys do your thing. Good to see you, Mr. B.”

“You too,” I said. “Enjoy your evening.”

Enjoy your evening. Jesus, was I fifty?

Marcos nodded, a smirk forming on his lips. “Sure thing, I’ll tell Park you said hi.”

“God, that was weird, right?” I asked once Marcos was out of ear shot.

“He seemed harmless, but Parker’s trouble.”

“How do you mean?”

Wilder flipped over his menu. “Have you looked at him?”

“Just because he’s attractive does not mean he’s trouble.”

“The guy is sex, Van.” He set down his menu. “He reminds me of Jax. All that muscle, the blue eyes… the blond hair… plus, he has a crush on you.”

I brushed him off with a laugh and shook my head. “He’s a flirt… but a crush? Not likely.”

“Okay,” he said, his flippant tone accompanied by a smirk. “If you say so.”

A waiter walked up to the table before I had a chance to argue.

“Welcome to Hemingway’s. What can I get you two?” We both ordered the seasonal craft beer with a burger and fries. The waiter scratched everything onto his pad before scooping up our menus with an overzealous smile.  “I’ll be right back with your beers.”

Once he walked away, I steered our conversation away from Wilder’s theories. It didn’t matter how attractive Parker was or if he had a crush on me or not. I was his teacher. I couldn’t think of him like that. He was a smart kid, with a bright future in writing. End of story.

“I met someone on the app you told me about.”

“Really?” Wilder leaned his elbow on the table and rested his chin in the palm of his hand. “And… how did it go?”

“We haven’t met in person yet. But he seems great.”

Great was an understatement. Every day I had to stop myself from texting him as much as I wanted. Our relationship, which was a generous word for what we had, was physical. But underneath the surface of it all, there was so much possibility. He cared, and it showed in the way he let me cross boundaries in my own time. He could’ve moved on to a guy with experience, but he’d chosen me. He wanted me.

“Great? I’m going to need more details than that.”

“There’s not a lot to tell,” I said. “We’re both anonymous. We haven’t talked much about our real lives.”

“You don’t know what he looks like?”

“No, but I have seen his abs a few times.”

The waiter chose that moment to drop off our drinks and I avoided his eyes.

Wilder leaned in and lowered his voice as the waiter moved on to the next table. “Did he send you a dick pic?”

“God… no.”

“What? Dick pics can be fun.”

Not as fun as sexting. But I kept that nugget of information to myself.

“I’m sure they can be, but I don’t know, shouldn’t I wait to meet him in person first?” I asked and lifted my pint glass to my lips. The sour citrus flavor of the beer exploded across my taste buds. “But I’m not sure how soon we should meet.”

“I say the sooner you meet the better. That way if he’s a troll, you can move on. Also, send a dick pic if you want… there are no rules, Van.”

“Yeah… okay.”

“Oh, I wanted to tell you, my assistant… totally hot and single.”

“Andrew?”

“Yup.” He grinned and took a sip of his beer. “And he’s bi.”

“Huh… he seems kind of cold, though.”

“Don’t be mean… He’s just quiet. He’s got the whole tall, dark, and mysterious thing going for him.” Wilder set his beer down and pulled out his phone. “If you want, I’ll give you his number.”

“What? No… I… I like this guy I’m talking to. I want to see how it goes.”

It might’ve been naïve for me to think Michael wasn’t seeing other people, but I’d already given him one of my firsts. I wanted to give him more. If he turned out to be the good guy I’d hoped for, I’d give him everything.

I set my keys and wallet on the kitchen counter and started to unbutton my shirt. It was later than I had anticipated, but once I’d started talking about Wilder’s new book and market strategy, we’d lost track of time. Marcos and his friends had already left by the time we finished up, sparing me from an uncomfortable goodbye. In my laundry room, I slipped out of my shirt and grabbed my phone out of my pants pocket before throwing everything I had on into the washing machine. I’d meant to start a small load this morning but hadn’t gotten around to it. I shut the lid and pressed start, the low hum of the machine gave me an odd, domestic satisfaction. Naked, I walked back to my bathroom and turned on the shower. After I’d left the restaurant, I’d sent Michael a text telling him I was on my way home, but when I opened the message thread, there was no reply.

I stared at my reflection as an explicit idea crossed my mind. The thought alone had me half hard already. Stroking a hand down the length of my cock, my heart hammered in my chest. Emboldened by all the dirty things Michael had said to me on Monday night, I lifted my phone, angling it in a way I was able to hide my face, and snapped a few pictures. I scrolled through the shots and swallowed, my eagerness facing off with my indecision. Each picture offered a full view of my body from my chest down to my feet against the tile floor. The head of my dick was on full display with my fingers firmly gripped around my shaft. I deleted all but one, and my hand shook as I attached it to a message.

@MeAndMyShadow33: I can’t believe I’m sending you this. But after Monday I think you earned it.

I hit send, and an immediate wave of nausea crashed around in the pit of my stomach. Leaving my phone on the counter, I got in the shower, too anxious to wait for a reply. I took my time, letting the hot water untie my nerves, and by the time I was finished, the whole room was covered in a blanket of humidity. I definitely did not look at my phone while I dried off, or after I’d gotten dressed, and not once or twice while I brushed my teeth. The damn thing sat on the counter, a beacon of vulnerability. Michael had made all the first moves. He’d set and pushed the boundaries. What if I fucked up? What if I’d pushed one step too far and made a fool of myself?

After a good five-minute panic attack, I picked up my phone and headed into my room. In bed, I glared at the black screen, willing myself to unlock it. Worst case he blocked me. It had only been a week. It wasn’t like I couldn’t try again or meet someone else. I could chalk up these past seven days as experience gained and move on. I held on to my false bravado and swiped a thumb across the screen.

@TheL0stB0y: Fuck, you’re perfect.

I read his message with a surprising ache in my throat, my bottom lip trapped between my teeth, containing my overwhelming smile.

@MeAndMyShadow33: I’m still in shock I actually sent it.

@MeAndMyShadow33: I thought you might block me.

@TheL0stB0y: Hell no. Look what you do to me.

A picture came through, and holy shit, he was stunning.

He must’ve been in bed. The angle of his shot was different, but showed every single line, every sculpted muscle of his chest and stomach, beyond the soft looking patch of hair down to his thick cock, the tip glistening with pre-come. My mouth watered, dying to know what it would be like to have him, to run my tongue along the veins, to have his hand on the back of my neck while I tasted him for the first time.

@MeAndMyShadow33: You give me confidence I’ve never had before.

Another picture loaded. This one a blurry shot of his hand grasping the base of his dick.

@MeAndMyShadow33: I wish that was my hand. I wish I could touch you.

@TheL0stB0y: You can. All you have to do is ask.

I wasn’t sure if he meant for real, or if we were playing the game again. Either way I was okay with it. If I wanted to do this, if I wanted to dive into my sexuality, I had to be the one to take the leap.

@MeAndMyShadow33: I want you.

@TheL0stB0y: You have me.

Reaching under the wide waistband of my briefs, I shuddered at the heat of my fingers over my sensitive skin and snapped another shot for him.

@MeAndMyShadow33: I want you in my bed. Your hands on my body. Not pictures. I want you. I want the real thing.

@TheL0stB0y: When?

@MeAndMyShadow33: Does Friday work?

The beat of my heart pulsed frantic and wild in my chest, stealing my breath as I waited for his answer.

@TheL0stB0y: Two days feels like forever.

God, it did. But I had Anne tomorrow. I’d made plans to check her out early from school and take her to the zoo. Owen had gotten tickets from one of his clients and asked if he could take us. He never had time for shit like this, and I wasn’t about to cancel our plans no matter how hard up I was for sex.

@MeAndMyShadow33: I have a crazy week planned, but my Friday belongs to you.

@TheL0stB0y: I work during the day, but I’m all yours after six.

@MeAndMyShadow33: Where should we meet?

@TheL0stB0y: Someplace public. No offense. It’s safer that way for both of us.

@MeAndMyShadow33: None taken. I agree.

@MeAndMyShadow33: We could meet for drinks? There’s a pub close to my house, or if you know of a good place...

@TheL0stB0y: A pub sounds chill.

@MeAndMyShadow33: Let’s meet around eight at the Brick Store Pub.

It took him a couple of minutes to reply, and for a second, I thought he might’ve changed his mind.

@TheL0stB0y: In Decatur?

@MeAndMyShadow33: Yeah, is that too far?

@TheL0stB0y: Not at all. I looked it up, the place looks cool.

@MeAndMyShadow33: Friday then…

@TheL0stB0y: Shit just got real, didn’t it?

@MeAndMyShadow33: If you change your mind, I’ll understand.

@TheL0stB0y: I won’t change my mind.

@MeAndMyShadow33: I’m nervous.

@TheL0stB0y: I’ll be gentle.

@MeAndMyShadow33: What if I don’t want you to be…

@TheL0stB0y: Is it Friday yet?

I laughed out loud.

@MeAndMyShadow33: Two days.

@TheL0stB0y: I can’t wait.

I’d waited over fifteen years for this. Waited and wondered and wanted. And in two days, I’d finally get to know what it was like to be complete, to meet the truth inside me, because of him, in two days my entire life was about to change.