Riding With Brighton(24)
“Agreed,” Brighton says with a sexy smile. They stare at each other for a while, like they’re challenging each other. I feel like I’m getting soaked in their sexual tension and I need a shower. It’s awkward. “All right,” Brighton finally says, placing his hands on the counter and standing. “We’ll let you get back to your…?”
“Veggie balls,” Samuel says with a flirty smile.
“Your veggie balls,” Brighton repeats, matching his smile. “I’m gonna show Jay around the place.”
“Maybe I’ll catch up with you guys when I’m done here.”
Try it, you brown-eyed beard-wearing, veggie-ball-making, grant-getting asshole. Seriously, just try it.
“Sure. Otherwise, I’ll come around again.”
We stand, and I give Samuel a tight smile, and he smirks at me. We’re almost out of the kitchen when Samuel says, “Hey, Brighton?”
“Yeah?”
“Is it okay if I get your number from Maggie… you know, in case I can’t wait until you decide to come around again?”
“Go for it,” Brighton says, slapping the wall before leaving.
Chapter Four
Brighton
JAY’S BEEN quiet since we walked out of the farmhouse. He politely helped Abe and me unload the truck and listened as Abe went on about the work they’re doing at The Farm, but now that we’re alone, I can feel it more heavily—his agitation.
I can guess why he’s pissed. He didn’t enjoy seeing me and Samuel flirting. He didn’t like me ignoring him for another man.
I’m not trying to push Jay into anything. I mean, that wouldn’t be fair. He’s had a big day as it is: admitting he’s gay, admitting he wants me. Every inch of my body gets excited at that thought, and ever since he made it known, it’s been damn hard to keep my hands off him. But I’m not just gonna give him what he wants. Not because I’m a prick or a tease but for the reasons I gave him: it’s not fair to his relationship, and I’m not the gay for a day vending machine. And I want him to be gay for more than one day, and if me flirting with Samuel forces him to think about the consequences of not coming to terms with his sexuality, then I’ll flirt. I mean, I always flirt. I can’t help it.
“This is one of my favorites.” Looking up at the colorful ship-like structure, I step up to the plank bridge and tell him, “Come on.”
“Are we supposed to be climbing on the art?” he asks, following me up.
“You can climb on any of the art as long as there’s something to climb on. That’s part of the beauty of doing large-scale sculpture—it’s usually interactive. People who normally don’t care about art come here and are forced to look at it differently and maybe they appreciate it. Kids always get it. The field trips are the best. They pile off the bus looking all pissed off because they think art is boring, but then they see how big and colorful it is and they’re amazed. And then they climb on it and it becomes an experience and they feel it. You should hear the insightful stuff that comes out of their mouths. It’s kind of amazing.”
“So you’re really involved?”
“As much as I can be,” I tell him, stopping at the first overlook, which faces the east side of the field. From here you can appreciate how much art is actually on this property. It looks like an alien landscape: strange masses set down randomly on the ground. It’s beautiful. “I’m good with power tools, and I can fabricate metal. But like I said, the best part is giving the tours. I spend a huge chunk of my summers here.”
“Sounds nice,” he says, the agitation still clear in his voice.
“It is nice.” I turn and proceed with our upward climb.
“It’ll probably be even nicer, maybe even heavenly, with Samuel here.”
There it is.
It’s kind of cute the way he gets jealous so easily. I’m pretty sure even me kissing a girl got him a little worked up. Although, if I were actually dating him, I know from past experience, it’s not cute at all. “It probably won’t change anything. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who needs my assistance erecting whatever it is he’s gonna be putting together.”
“Yeah, I guess not. So when Maggie said he was like Harrison…. Is that your ex?”
“Yup,” I say, trying not to sound annoyed. I can talk about Samuel, but I don’t really want to talk about Harrison.
“When she said Samuel reminded her of Harrison, did she mean his looks? Is that your type—burly mountain men in dirty clothes, their hands covered in veggie balls?”
I look away from him so he doesn’t see my smile. He’s too damn cute for his own good. “I don’t know what she meant. Yeah, Harrison sometimes dressed like he was the outdoorsy type. Sometimes he had a beard. Sometimes he didn’t. But she could have been talking about the artist thing, or the older thing, or the vegetarian thing. I mean, I’m gonna take a guess that if a guy is making veggie balls he’s a vegetarian, right?” I ask, turning to look at Jay as we get to the ladder that will lead to the crow’s nest.
His face is blank as I stare at him. “Yeah… veggie balls… vegetarian. Sure. You like vegetarians?”
I laugh. God, it’s weird to see him, Jay Hall, looking at me like that. Like I’m breaking his heart. Jay.