Ex-Daredevil by Zoe Lee

Chapter 4

Gavin

“Welcome to Extravaganza,” said an adorable young teddy bear wearing a shirt with a herd of majestic ponies galloping towards me. “May I help you find anything today, sir?”

I gave him a dazzling smile. “Hi, I’m Gavin. What’s your name?”

Looking surprised by the question, he adjusted his glasses and told me, “It’s Ralph.”

Spreading my arms open wide, I flourished my long shopping list. “Ralph, I hope you get commissions at this fancy party store, because I am here to buy so much stuff!”

He snort-laughed into his hand and then went around me to get a big bright red cart. “Okay, Gavin. What are we planning today? Baby shower? Sleepover? Craft party?”

“The most precious four-year-old in the entire Chicagoland area, possibly the whole Midwest, is having a Unicorn Pirate Royalty Tea Party,” I proclaimed. “Not only are other four-year-olds invited, but so are their parents, uncles and aunts, and rock star godfathers!”

“That does sound epic,” Ralph laughed.

I nodded seriously. “It’s my job as one of the godfathers’ personal assistants to get tons of everything. I’m talking crowns, glitter, pirate swords. I’m talking unicorn paper plates, red and black streamers, all of your top-shelf plastic tea cups and teapots. We’ll need paper tablecloths, those tower things for tiny sandwiches or cupcakes, and a ‘Happy 80th Birthday’ banner, a joke for the adults. I’m under orders to make sure it all clashes.”

“This girl sounds amazing, and so does your boss,” Ralph said as he steered down the first aisle, apparently deciding the best plan was to go aisle by aisle to get it all.

“Not a girl, but they are amazing,” I corrected, not defensive but still inflexible.

Ralph gasped and apologized, “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed. I’m new to the city and no one talks about anything where I grew up, so I’m learning as fast as I can.”

“Thank you,” I told him, giving him a reassuring smile because he looked so upset about his mistake. “Grab those confetti poppers, will you? You’re like a foot taller than me.”

“Sure thing,” he said, reaching up.

“Now, not to make it awkward before we even get to aisle three,” I said as I scooped up all of the plastic pirate swords, “but my cousin would think that you’re just his type. I know you don’t know me, definitely don’t know him, but I’m just throwing it out there.”

Adjusting his glasses, he stammered, “I-I…”

I picked up a fairy wand, flicking the switch so it lit up, and tapped his arm. “Don’t worry, Ralph. You can say you’re not into men. Or blind dates. As long as you don’t sneer.”

Snatching the wand from me, he twirled it in the air just like a fairy godmother. “I hate sneers,” he said fervently. “And I—well, I do… But I’ve never been able to, you know…”

“It’s okay, it’s my turn to apologize because you don’t have to say anything,” I told him in my firmest tone. “But, just in case, how about I give you my card? If you want to talk, or you want the name of some good groups to join around town, you just let me know. And if you happen to also like bearded, squishy firemen, I’ll set you up with my cousin.”

He flushed a little, but took the card very carefully.

“Now, let’s find those crowns, Ralph,” I declared.

Off we went, as I told Ralph about the time my cousin rescued a family of turtles.

Once I was done, I went to my boss’s house and hauled it all inside.

“It’s just me!” I shouted. “All the party stuff and your car keys are on the table!”

“Thanks!” he shouted back from somewhere upstairs. “See you tomorrow!”

Done for the day, I ambled towards the train station, swiping left and right on potential hookups. The first gay dating app had released when I was about twenty, always broke and living in the coolest gay area in Chicago. It had been a second feast before I’d even got through a fraction of the first. I’d tried it all. Gorged on men who were nothing but a tight set of abs or a cocky smile. Gobbled up newbies. Guzzled way too many straight guys begging for another guy to suck them off. Stuffed myself full of bears and leather daddies.

I had slowed down and lost some of that desperation, but I still loved meeting men, whether it was through an app or work or at a store or in line somewhere. I wasn’t shy or indecisive and I didn’t give a shit about being cool or making a fool of myself. It was fun to scope out men at a bar or be a little bitchy and judge them just by their profile pic. Flirting was an art too many guys had lost and I loved it. Asking someone out was a blast. I never took it personally when I got turned down because we can’t all be everyone’s type.

But tonight’s menu was unappetizing.

They were too young, or had too many eggplant emojis in their bios, or they were into something I wasn’t, or I got the cheater vibe off them for whatever reason.

Which all sucked, because I was in the mood for a great big meal.

Actually I’d been hungry since I sauntered away from Eliott, a judgey stranger who knocked my socks off in a bathroom. The whole thing should have been just spontaneous, easy fun, with the added bonus that I’d gotten under his skin before he got into my pants.

But nothing special otherwise. Of course.

Scoffing at the very idea, I swiped a few unappealing men and then paused on a cutie. He looked a little nervous in his photo and the angle wasn’t his best, but it was honest. No red flags in his bio, other than that he liked DC over Marvel, so I swiped and sent a message.

Halfway through my commute, he messaged back. He might have looked a little nervous in his photos, but his message was casual and warm. We went back and forth for half an hour before he suggested we meet at a bar only a few stops further on the train.

Sounds great, I replied before slipping in my earbuds to listen to a comedy podcast.

As I got off the train, detachment over meeting someone new started to creep in, instead of my usual feeling of anticipation. I pushed back at it. So this man probably wasn’t going to be haughty like Eliott, looking down his nose at me for enjoying my life even if it meant that once in a blue moon I landed in the wrong place. But he could totally be as good a kisser as Eliott, who had somehow plundered my mouth like a gentleman, then cordially invited me to plunder his mouth in return.

He definitely wouldn’t make this noise when he came like—

No, I denied myself, pissed off that my mind was going there. There was a reason I’d gotten out of the diner as quickly as possible, disappearing with a sassy, irreverent quip. Men like that weren’t for me, even if they wanted me for a couple hours. I was an androgynous, tattooed daredevil who wasn’t at all serious about settling down. There wasn’t anything wrong with that, but men like Eliott had no interest in that type of partner. Our hookup had been fun, but I needed to leave it behind me and move forward.

Move forward, I told myself, then went into the bar and scanned the crowd.

Someone touched my shoulder lightly and asked, “Gavin?” When I nodded at my date and smiled, he looked a little dazed. “You actually look just like your pics on the app. Wow. That never happens to me. S-sorry, I mean, you’re cute.”

“So are you,” I said easily, then gestured toward an empty table. “You want to sit?”

With an eager nod, he led the way.

We chatted and ordered some appetizers off the happy hour menu. It was everything we say we want on a date. He was nice and asked a lot of questions about me, but didn’t avoid answering mine like he was hiding a bunch of shit either. It didn’t take him too long to relax enough to start throwing out little flirtatious quips without being pushy.

And yet…

Damn it, screwing around with Eliott had been as exciting as skydiving that day—maybe even more than the skydiving.. I hadn’t known what he would say next and every move he’d made once we locked ourselves in the bathroom had been completely unexpected. Egging him on had been a reflexive instinct from the thrill of my jump, and how much I liked the way he looked at me like he had no clue what to do with me. Men who kept their mouths pursed between criticism and snobbish barbs shouldn’t be so damn sexy.

But he was.

I’d fully planned on hooking up tonight, but I had never distracted myself from one man by sleeping with another, no matter the reason. So I kept the date light and noncommittal, and after an hour or so, I thanked him for the nice night and bowed out.

As I walked out, I got angry at Eliott for the way he’d stuck himself in my brain.

All the logic in the world couldn’t diminish my focus on him though.

Skydiving—and all the other dangerous, idiotic activities I did, to borrow Eliott’s descriptors—made me appreciate life. Appreciating life always went hand-in-hand with being more open to even more new things, exciting things. It made me over-optimistic, like rose-tinted beer goggles, and let me take a second look at people or things I normally wouldn’t. But like I’d told Eliott, just because skydiving made me horny, that didn’t mean I tossed aside safety or my standards and just fucked anyone I could.

The universe had just aligned that day: the rush of skydiving, almost literally crashing into Eliott, and the over-optimistic adrenaline goggles had been the perfect storm.

If I saw him now, when I was my usual generally positive but still skeptical self, I’d see him clearly. I was sure that he’d turn out to be just another typical stuck-up, judgmental guy. One of those guys who maybe took a walk on the wild side with me for an hour or two, but would never be interested in more. Not that I would be interested, either.

Groaning, I stopped trying to lie to myself. It never worked anyway. I had had more fun with Eliott than with anyone else I’d met in a long time, and if I was interested, then there was nothing wrong with trying to see him again. Maybe he’d be as great as I remembered and maybe not, and maybe he’d be interested too or maybe not. But there was only one way to find out. It was as simple as taking out my phone and pulling up my contacts.