Dear Mr. Brody by A.M. Johnson

Donovan

Overwhelmed. The word circled around my brain as I tried to soak everything in. The club pulsed around me, the lights, the music, the people, all of it too much to process. I couldn’t decide if I was turned on or terrified. I drank in all the half-naked bodies, the men dancing with men, the kissing in dark corners. Picturing myself out on the dance floor, hands, and skin, and sweat, I couldn’t breathe. I wanted it but had no idea how or where to start. It was comfortable here, with a gin and tonic as my shield, standing by the table Lowe Literary had reserved for the party. The alcohol warmed me from the inside out and made it easier for me to smile back at the men who’d pass by me on their way to the bar.

“You’re a popular attraction tonight,” Wilder said out of breath, grabbing a bottle of water off the table. “Half of the guys I invited have asked me if you’re single.”

My face heated and I took a deep sip of my drink. Wilder unscrewed the cap on his bottle and stared at me.

“What?” I asked. “You’re serious?”

“Oh no… you’re one of those guys,” he said, lifting the bottle to his lips.

Intimidated, I avoided his scrutinizing gaze. Wilder was a beautiful man, tall and lean, with thick, curly brown hair that never knew which way it wanted to lay. I had to admit I liked the way he wore make-up sometimes. Tonight, he had a dark shade of blue shadow on his eyes. His skin dewy with sweat, glistened like the sequined letters on his shirt. Gay As Fuck. I loved that he wore his eccentricity like a crown. He was also very married.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Wilder raised a skeptical brow and leaned his hip against the table. “You have no idea how attractive you are. My husband is the same way. Y’all walk around looking like gods, giving all the gays a heart attack, and you don’t even know it.” He nodded his head toward the dance floor where Jax, his husband, was dancing with two women I didn’t recognize. “I mean, look at him, it’s unfair, if I’m being honest.”

Jax was tall with blond hair and big blue eyes. He had a smile that could light an entire room, and it didn’t help that the guy was built with muscle I could only dream about. I looked nothing like him. “Your husband is a gladiator.”

“I know, right?” He grinned and poked me in the chest. “You may not be a gladiator, but you could get any guy in this club if you wanted to. I mean, at least the single ones. All of this…” He waved his hand at me. “Wasted on a straight man.”

“Who said I was straight?” I asked, and he blinked at me a few times. A speechless Wilder was unheard of, and it took me a second to realize what I’d admitted to. I blamed the gin. “I mean… I’m not sure?”

“Is that a question?” His smile widened and he leaned in closer, entirely too excited.

I cleared my throat, my nerves itching at the back of my neck, I tried to rub them away with the palm of my hand. I’d never told anyone about my attraction to men. But as I looked around, this need inside me bloomed. I wanted to experience all of this, to feel free to do what I wanted, to say out loud what I never could before. “I’ve always been attracted to men, but I guess I never had a chance to do anything about it.”

“You’re in the right place, then,” he said. “Or when you’re ready, you could download the Pegasus app. It used to be my favorite. All kinds of guys to choose from.”

“Is that a dating app?”

“Sure,” he said, his lips spreading into a knowing smile before taking another swig of water.

“Wilder…”

“Ugh… fine, it’s kind of a hook-up app, but you can find guys who aren’t just down to fuck. Make an anonymous account and have a look. No one has to know.” He gently shoved my arm. “Live a little. Explore. It’s fun.”

“Maybe I will… Thanks.”

“Of course.” He waved at Jax, and his husband smiled back at him.

“You know… I’ve never told anyone before.”

He held his hand to his chest. “Aw… I’m honored to be your fairy gay godmother. You’re like my very own bi Frodo looking for his Sam.”

I laughed and set my empty glass on the table. “Anders told me you have an unhealthy obsession with Lord of the Rings.”

“Anders is an asshole.”

“Why am I an asshole this time?” Anders asked as he walked past Wilder and handed me another drink. “I saw you needed a refill.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“It’s in your nature, babe. You can’t help yourself.” Wilder kissed him on the temple. “I’m going to dance with my husband and celebrate the fact I wrote another fabulous book.”

Anders laughed. “So humble.”

“I do try,” Wilder said with a sly grin before walking, with his head held high, to the dance floor.

“He’s not really that conceited, you know,” Anders said, setting his drink on the table. “All that attitude, it’s a defense mechanism.”

“You think so?”

“I’ve known him a long time. He’s happy tonight. His book is published. He can breathe. You should see him when he’s behind on his deadline and hasn’t showered in a week. He’s not so arrogant, then.”

I laughed, unable to picture him not being elegant at all times.

“How are you doing?” he asked.  “You’ve been hiding out over here all night.”

“I’m absorbing… everything.”

He chuckled. “The club scene can be a lot to take in. Not really my thing. I’m glad you came out, though, since Claire couldn’t be bothered.”

“Not surprising,” I said. “She’s not very social.”

“Understatement of the year,” he said, shaking his head with a laugh.

It was rare, getting to hang out with Anders outside of the office. Though I considered him a friend, he tried to be as professional as possible at work. He talked about his life, and his fiancé popped in all the time for a visit, but it was nice to see this casual side to him.

“You’re not an asshole, by the way,” I said over the rim of my glass. “Wilder was mad that you called his love for Lord of the Rings obsessive.”

“I’m simply an asshole who speaks the truth.”

A few people from the party started to crowd around the table. Some of them I recognized as Anders’s clients, and a handful from Bartley Press, but for the most part, I’d never seen half these people before. Ethan eventually made his way over from the dance floor, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat as Anders leaned down to kiss him. I didn’t mean to stare, but it was impossible not to. A mixture of envy and wonder swirled through my veins, the gin lighting it on fire. Ethan pulled away, his face flush as he pressed another kiss to Anders’s jaw.

Feeling like an intruder, I moved my attention to take another look around the club and almost dropped my drink. “Oh my God.”

“What is it?’ Ethan asked, and I quickly stepped partially behind Anders.

“I think I saw one of my students.”

Ethan exhaled a laugh. “Shit, you scared me, I thought it was something serious.”

“It is serious. I’ve never felt this old in my life.”

“Welcome to the club.” Anders patted my back. “Just wait till you’re thirty-nine and you’re staring forty in the face.”

“Shit, I hope he didn’t see me.”

I chanced another glance at the dance floor to be sure and found Parker Mills and his friend Marcos from my creative writing class grinding against each other under the strobe lights. Curiosity winning over caution, I stared longer than I should have. Parker pulled Marcos toward him, a salacious smile on his full lips as his hand slid down to Marcos’s ass. A knot formed in my throat, and I found it difficult to swallow. Were they together? It dawned on me I shouldn’t care. My students’ relationships were not my business.

“Which one is he?” Ethan asked.

“Two of them, actually.” I nodded to where they were both dancing.

“The guy in the red harness is a student?” Anders sounded incredulous.

“Yeah, and the guy he’s dancing with is a student as well.”

“Damn,” Ethan said. “I could not be a teacher.”

“Should I be concerned?” Anders asked with a smile, draping his arm around Ethan’s waist.

Ethan grinned up at him and whispered something in his ear I couldn’t hear. By the look on my boss’s face, I didn’t think it was something I’d want to know anyway. Luckily, when I turned around, Parker and Marcos weren’t there any longer, or at least I couldn’t see them anymore. Just in case, I decided to leave and avoid an awkward run-in if possible. It was late enough, I needed to head home anyway. Lanie had to be at the yoga studio early tomorrow, and I’d promised to take Anne to school if she watched her tonight. We’d planned for her to drop Anne off at seven in the morning, and even though I’d only had a few drinks, I was old enough to know I’d regret it tomorrow.

“I think I’m going to head home. I have an early morning.”

“I thought the office was closed tomorrow,” Ethan said.

“It is, but I have to take my daughter to school, and I have a lesson to plan for tomorrow night.”

“You’re not driving, right? You have a ride?” Anders asked, pulling out his phone. “I can call for one.”

“No, I didn’t drive, and I can grab a Lyft. Don’t worry about it.”

“I insist.” Anders’s fingers tapped across the screen of his cell before I could argue. “Looks like they’re about five minutes out.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

I said my goodbyes to Ethan and Anders, asking them to tell Wilder thank you for the invite, and headed toward the front door. A guy with dark hair and a nice smile caught my eye as I passed the bar. His light brown eyes met mine, and my mouth went dry. My heart wild in my chest, I slowed as he stood. Did I have the courage to talk to him? Each one of my breaths was thick with anticipation as he moved closer, and I took a step toward him. I was in my head, going over what the hell I would even say to him. A simple hi could work, or hello. As I was trying to build up the courage and untie my tongue, someone knocked into my right side. A splash of liquid rained down on my shoes and wet the bottom of my jeans.

“Shit, I’m—” he stuttered as I grabbed him by the arms, hoping to stop us both from falling onto the sticky floor. Parker Mills stared at me, his blue eyes wide, his cheeks filling with color. The guy I’d wanted to talk to completely forgotten. “Fuck… I mean, I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.”

“It’s okay,” I said, shocked and fumbling for words, I realized I was still holding on to him for dear life. This close I could smell his soap and sweat. The thick muscle of his arms warm under my palms. I dropped my hands immediately. “It’s not a big deal.”

“I think I ruined your shoes,” he said, placing his half-empty glass on one of the nearby tables.

“I never liked these shoes anyway.”

His laugh was nervous. “I should watch where I’m going.”

He sounded a little drunk, and it made me smile for some reason.

“Shit happens,” I said again without thinking and exhaled. “I was just leaving, actually… my ride is probably waiting outside.”

“Oh.”

“I was here for a work thing,” I blurted, and his lips twitched as he nodded. “A release party… For a client.”

“Cool… I’m here for the alcohol and the men.” His smirk was unapologetic, and I huffed out a laugh.

“This is awkward, isn’t it?” I asked.

“Only a little.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, and his shirt lifted, exposing a small sliver of skin. I turned and looked toward the door. “I should probably…”

“Yeah… You wouldn’t want to miss your ride home,” he said, and his light eyes came alive with the same playful spark I’d noticed the other day in class. Parker smiled as he took a step backward, his cotton shirt stretching across his broad chest as he shoved his hands in the back pocket of his jeans. “See you tomorrow, Mr. Brody.”

As I predicted, the minute my alarm had gone off, I regretted every last sip of gin I’d had last night. I sat on the edge of my bed, my face in my hands, groaning at the sunlight like I was seventy-three instead of thirty-three. My throat was raw as I tried to swallow past the sour taste in my mouth. I had a half an hour before Anne was supposed to be here, and all I wanted was a shower and a cup of coffee. I stood and my head throbbed as I walked to the bathroom. My body wasn’t built for late nights and booze anymore. And I hadn’t even gotten drunk. I wished I’d gotten drunk, maybe then I would’ve blacked out and forgotten about the uncomfortable run-in with my student. I scrubbed a palm down my face, scratching at the stubble on my chin, and turned on the hot water. Giving it time to heat up, I brushed my teeth and stripped out of my sweats. Once I was in the shower, I let the water pour over me, supporting my weight with my hands against the tile, and closed my eyes.

I thought about last night, about the guy I hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to. Would I have woken up alone if we’d actually met? I wiped the water from my eyes and laughed at my overactive and sex-deprived imagination. Of course, I would’ve woken up alone. It would’ve been a miracle if I’d even managed to get through a conversation with him, let alone go home with a stranger. I wasn’t a one-night-stand kind of guy. Or at least I didn’t think I was. I hadn’t ever dated anyone besides my ex-wife, and that was over a decade ago. I had no idea how to be single. The Internet freaked me out, but in some ways, it seemed less aggressive than the club scene. At least online, I could take a chance without revealing who I was like Wilder had suggested. I could ease myself back onto the market. Jesus, it wasn’t like I was a piece of real estate. Thoroughly discouraged with myself, I quickly cleaned up, shaved, and got ready for the day, tabling my bi-curiosity and dating life for more important topics, like what Anne would want on her waffles this time.

I’d barely switched on the griddle when my doorbell rang. Lanie didn’t wait for me to answer the door, most likely knowing I’d unlocked it for her like I usually did when she dropped off Anne. Some people might’ve thought it was weird that my ex-wife and I got along as well as we did, but we’d both wanted to be a united front for Anne. Giving her as much normalcy as possible. Our relationship wasn’t hostile, and after seeing some of my friends and their bitter divorces, I was grateful Lanie and I weren’t at each other’s throats.

“Dad,” Anne squealed, running toward me with her arms open. Her dark blue backpack almost bounced off her shoulders as she threw herself at me.

“Hey, little monster, I missed you.” I picked her up and squeezed her until she growled. When she was a baby, she used to snore loud enough we never needed the baby monitor to tell if she’d stopped breathing. I started calling her little monster because she’d sounded like a bear. It stuck. “You ready to make waffles?”

“Hey.” Lanie smiled and leaned in to kiss me on the cheek. As I set Anne onto her feet, she handed me a small bag of strawberries. “Here, I grabbed these at the market yesterday, they looked too good to pass up.”

“Thanks,” I said, setting them on the kitchen counter.

“You don’t have to work today?” Lanie asked, her gaze roaming over my cotton t-shirt and jeans.

“Anders figured we’d all be hungover after last night.” I chuckled. “But I’m grateful for the time off, I can get ahead on my lessons for class.”

“How was it last night? Did you have fun?” she asked, and like so many times, I toyed with the idea of telling her I wanted to try dating men.

But I chickened out.

She’d been my best friend for so long, I missed having someone to talk to, someone to tell everything to without fear of judgment. But now I wasn’t sure what she would think. Besides, this wasn’t one of those topics you dropped in casual conversations.

“Yeah. It was good.”

“Good,” she said, looking down at her watch, distracted. “I need to get going.”

She reached for a hug, but it was empty. I didn’t love Lanie anymore, at least not romantically, and sure, we got along well enough, but there was this loneliness I couldn’t explain. It settled in my stomach like a brick whenever we had these fill-in-the-blank moments.

“Bye, baby,” she said and kissed Anne on the top of her head. “We can get smoothies after school, okay?”

“Sure, Mom.” Anne was busy dividing the strawberries into two equal piles on one of the plates I’d set out earlier.

Lanie pulled her bag up higher onto her shoulder, giving me a small smile before she turned to leave. Six months later, and it still felt odd watching her go.

“Can we have powdered sugar?” Anne asked, once her mom was out of sight. “Mom said powdered sugar is bad for me, but I think it tastes good, so I don’t care.”

Laughing, I pulled the powdered sugar from the cupboard along with the waffle mix. “Sure, kiddo. But she’s right. Too much sugar can be unhealthy. But every once in a while, it’s nice to have a treat.”

She scrunched up her nose. “I guess.”

“Will you grab the syrup while I mix the batter?”

“Yes.” She hopped down from her stool, her long braid bouncing as she skipped toward the pantry. If only waffles made everyone that happy. “Mom told me you went dancing with friends. How come you never dance with me?”

“You never ask,” I said, smiling at the irritated crease between her brows. “I’m kidding, little monster, I’ll dance with you whenever you want.”

I took the syrup from her hand and placed it on the counter before twirling her in a circle. The long blouse she had on billowed around her waist and she giggled.

“This isn’t how you dance, Dad.”

“No?”

“You’re supposed to shake your booty,” she said, and I choked back a laugh. “What? That’s what Jess says.”

“And who is this Jess?”

“A girl in my class.”

“Ah…” I grabbed the eggs from the fridge. “She sounds pretty smart.”

“She’s popular.” Anne dug out the measuring cup from the drawer and filled it with water. This was our routine, and as I watched her, I wished it was something I could do every morning with her. “And she has gel nails.”

“Gel nails?” I asked, cracking an egg and plopping it into the bowl.

“It’s polish, but it doesn’t come off easy like the stuff Mom makes me wear.” She flipped her braid over her shoulder, and rolled her pale gray eyes, eyes she’d gotten from me. “It’s organic.”

Organic nail polish?

Lanie was over the top when it came to chemicals and nutrition. A kid should get to be a kid sometimes, eat processed corn syrup, and drink water from the tap. But I’d never undermine her mother. Lanie only had Anne’s best interest at heart.

“Hey… nothing wrong with organic. Your generation will be the healthiest and live the longest.”

“If we have a planet to live on.”

“Now you sound like your mom,” I said, and she giggled again as she poured the water into the bowl.

Anne continued to be a chatterbox all through breakfast and on the way to school. It was too quiet when I walked back through my front door and surveyed the mess we’d left behind on the counter, though. Sighing, I dropped my keys in the bowl on the sideboard table and got to work cleaning my kitchen. It was after ten by the time I finished up and sat down at my desk to start on the lesson for tonight, hoping to finish a few more so I wouldn’t get behind. Taking on two jobs and being a single parent, I might’ve bitten off more than I could chew.

My phone chirped with a notification, and when I opened the screen, I laughed. Wilder had invited me to join Pegasus.

Me: You’re a very persistent fairy gay godmother.

Wilder: Hey, I’m head recruiter, I have to keep my numbers up.

Me: Well, in that case…

Wilder: Let me know if you need help deciding if someone is a serial killer. I have very good intuition.

Me: Thanks?

Wilder: Anytime.

I opened the app with a stupid smile on my face. But as my thumb hovered over the create account icon, my hands started to shake.

Was I really doing this?

“Screw it. Why not.”

I pulled my bottom lip through my teeth and clicked the link.