Mel Bossa's Blog
October 12, 2017
This time around I asked beta readers to help. Some had read Split and some hadn't. Using their feedback, I created a new tale that I hope will delight my hard core fans and perhaps bring in new readers to Red and Blue.
In the first Split, we didn't get a chance to really see much of Nick and Derek together, to understand their dynamic and to get into Nick's mind. I decided to change that. Also, David, Nick's lover the dancer who died too young, wasn't given his full due. I fleshed him out in this tale. He's the key to Nick's story and understanding the blond bomb shell.
This new Derek and Nick story is coming out in December and so far my darling beta readers have had great things to say about it. We'll have to see if you all share their opinion!
In the meantime, to whet your appetite, here's the blurb...
PS: I'll be giving out copies of course, for those who want to review early!
Derek O'Reilly was never good at reality. After twenty years of adulthood, he's disenchanted with his life, but his husband, Chef Nick Lund, is still chasing success. Then a near-fatal motorcycle accident brings everything to a halt and opens a door to a time Derek thought he'd never experience again.
As he sinks into a coma, Derek's mind returns to the winter he first fell for Nick, the bad boy with the arctic blue eyes. But in this coma-fantasy, Derek isn't a helpless child anymore. No, this time, he's older and making Nick Lund stutter and swoon for a change.
While Derek slips away, Nick sits by him, devastated. To pull his lover back from the land of dreams, he must say what he's never said before...
Derek has a choice—remain lost in his imagined world or return to Nick in the here and now where forever truly exists.
June 4, 2017
Hello! Just wanted to post a short excerpt of my new book Crazy Love coming out next week with JMS Books. Inspired by my own trip down to New Orleans in the 90s, the story follows two young men, Billy, a computer geek dreamer, and Xavier, a bisexual mechanic with Mohawk heritage who runaway together in Xavier’s Chevy Nova, heading south for adventure and freedom.
But anybody who has ever hit the road with little money and no real direction knows that these two young lovers are bound to get into some trouble that will test their new crazy love and themselves, too.
Here’s a little teaser to give you an idea of the tone of the book and characters.
Panting, they both lay back, staring up at the ceiling.
After a while, Billy turned to look at Xavier’s flushed face on the pillow.
What now? Should he say something? Clean up? Stay in bed? What was Xavier thinking? Was he disappointed? Everything had happened so fast, but had felt so amazing.
Slowly, Xavier turned to look at him, and Billy stopped breathing, watching Xavier’s face for a clue as to what would happen next. Then Xavier moved closer to him, his eyes lit with affection. “Wow,” he said, smiling tenderly.
That was the only word Billy needed to hear. He cuddled up against Xavier and put his ear on Xavier’s heart.
After a while, Xavier spoke again. “I’ve never known what it feels like to be wanted,” he whispered into Billy’s hair. “I still don’t know what you see in me … Why you followed me on this crazy trip.”
Billy listened to Xavier’s heart against his ear. Outside their window, he could hear cars zooming down the highway. But he felt quiet inside. Almost serene. “When I was a little boy, back on our farm, I used to spend hours watching my mother’s tapes. She’d tape all of the soap operas that played when I was in school and I’d watch them at night, in bed.”
Xavier snorted. “That’s kind of cute.”
“And anyway, I had this idea, right — that I could find a love like that. Something intense and fiery and full of surprises. A love that would take me for a ride, you know?”
“But I’m not your long-lost brother or the man who put your sister in a coma or your real lover’s evil identical twin.”
Billy laughed, looking up at Xavier. “Bummer.”
Xavier stroked his shoulder, his fingertips so gentle against Billy’s skin. “And what if I turn out to be … boring? What if we end up living in some shack by the ocean and I work all day in a grease shop, while you sell drinks in coconut shells, wearing an awful flowered shirt?”
“We’ll still have the time of our lives.” Billy kissed Xavier’s shoulder and stared up at him again. In the darkness, Xavier’s eyes were black, but luminous. “Because there’s something about us that could never be ordinary. I don’t know what it is.”
“I guess you’re like one of those beautiful mint-condition American cars people only take out for Sunday drives.”
“Am I now?”
“Yeah.” Xavier chuckled. “Lovely, but powerful. Not meant to be hidden away under some cloak in a garage. Meant to be out under a blue sky.”
Billy kind of liked the idea. “Okay … so then if I’m that car, what are you?”
Xavier was silent for a moment. “Baby,” he finally said, “I’m the gasoline.”
Release date: June 10th
January 31, 2017
Last year’s climate, all of the backward talk, double talking jive and deterioration of human dignity, burst the last of my bubbles. The Idealist in me died a long agonizing death, but like Romain Gary’s beautiful short story about a man who decides to build a cave under his library during the horrors of WWII and hides out there with his books and unbreakable faith in humankind, refusing to come out until goodness is restored, but then of course dying alone of old age, still waiting… The humanist in me will hang on.
Amidst all of the turmoil of late 2016, I did what I could to keep from becoming a cynical, despairing and angry woman, and sat down to write this simple tale of love and family. Rain and Tristan meet during a time when both guys are going through troubles, one, financially, and the other, emotionally, but though the odds are stacked high against them making it work, they turn to each other and let themselves be seen for who they are: as vulnerable men doing their best in a world that is getting tougher and tougher to understand. With the support of their loving and devoted friends, Tristan and Rain build on what they have and somehow that turns out to be just enough.
The optimism and positive vibes I felt when writing these guys surprised me because I never had that kind of family or support. I made it up as I went along, writing what I wish I could have known and it repaired something inside me.
I sort of learned that sometimes, simply imagining a better place for someone else, even a fictional character, tricks your brain into believing it could be possible for you too.
September 23, 2016
Everything is gonna be ok.
Now, now, people settle down. It’s only us, the bisexuals come to say today is OUR day.
If someone you love or care about is bisexual, today’s a good day to tell them that you actually believe them when they tell you they’re bisexual. That would be an amazing start:-)
If you’re crushing on someone you think is bisexual and that thought scares you a little, today is a good day to make a move on that person–before it’s too late.
If you think maybe you may have hurt someone you care about who is bi, saying stuff that you didn’t mean about them being confused or really gay and in the closet, or just trying to get attention, maybe today is the day you apologize?
August 25, 2016
I thought I’d give you a little taste, or rather, a whiff of the Erebus fragrance:-)…
My new novel, the story of Harris (Hades), a perfumer well on his way to the top, and his lover, a male escort named Pallas, who won’t surrender his heart so easily, is coming out soon… Hope this little puff gets you hooked!
Hades in Love (Mel Bossa, copyright 2016)
“Can’t you stay a little longer?” Harris didn’t want Pallas to leave just yet. The last minutes had gone by too fast. He wanted to know him a little better. What dreams danced behind those cool blue eyes of his? “There are a few more things we need to talk about, and I’d like to—”
“Harris… do you want me to be your date at the launch party or not?”
Pallas was an Oneiroi, that was what it was. He was a perfect mirage.
The everlasting and unattainable fantasy.
“Of course I want you to be my date. Uh, but would you agree to wear my perfume every time we meet?” The idea of smelling his creation on Pallas’s clothes thrilled Harris. “That would be so fantastic.”
“Oh, of course I would. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Pallas gazed into Harris’s eyes for a moment.
A moment long enough to fluster Harris. “So, then when do we meet again?”
“I’ll give you a number and we’ll arrange something.” Pallas stood and picked up his bag and the forms. “How’s that sound, Hades?”
Harris cracked a smile. “Who told you they call me that?”
“Okay, now you’ve really caught me.” Pallas laughed. “Look, the truth is, I know about you… I’ve read a few articles on you, and well, your new perfume company.” He took a shallow breath and stuffed a hand down his pocket. “I find it all kind of fascinating.”
“You do, huh? Well, I’d love to tell you more about it. If you’d stay a little longer.” Harris rose. “What’s your name, by the way?”
“I meant your real name.”
“I won’t tell you that. I’m sorry. I really can’t.”
“Oh, right.” Harris felt the sting of a blush in his face. “But Pallas is good. It sounds noble.”
Pallas smiled and walked to the door. “Is that your fragrance in the air, by the way? Erebus, is it?”
“Yes. God of shadows, he is.”
“Well, Harris, I wouldn’t mind wearing it at all. It smells great.”
Electrified, Harris followed Pallas to the door. “Your number?” he asked in a choked voice.
“I’ll text it to you tonight.”
“You have my cell phone number?”
“Yes, Olympus has it.”
“Did I just sign my soul over to the devil here?” Harris chuckled, but he was a little apprehensive about this whole process.
Pallas winked and slid the lock open. “I’ll wait for your call.”
“Wait, why did you choose Pallas? I mean, out of all the gods and demi-gods and mythical creatures you could have picked, why the god of war craft?”
“That’s easy,” Pallas said, stepping out and looking over his shoulder at him with a serious expression. “Because love is the most vicious battlefield there ever was and I won’t lose my heart in the war.”
July 20, 2016
Hope everyone is having a good summer and finding time to read and dream. Even if it's just a little mental getaway here and there, no matter how short. :-)
I'm taking off for another road trip and this time to discover my beautiful Québec's east coast and peninsula, but before I go offline in a week or so, I wanted to share the great news that I have a new novel releasing in December called Hades in Love...
Last year, I read this great book called the Secret of Scent that really sparked my imagination. I was also heavy into reading Homer and all kinds of Greek mythology, so it's no surprise that when I sat down to write a new book, these ideas and themes became the backdrop of this new MM romance which is set in the contemporary world of perfumery and male escorting.
Here's the blurb for Hades in Love!
In the world of advertising, Harris Desmond is notorious for his pursuit of perfection and having a fiery temper. They haven't nicknamed him Hades for nothing. Weeks away from launching his first perfume for men, Erebus, a fragrance celebrating the darker side of desire, Harris dreams of Les Champs Élysées and emerging triumphant as the new prince of scent.
A few weeks before the launch party, Harris's best friend suggests he contact a refined escort agency fittingly called Olympus to hire a professional as his date for his big night. Harris can't resist the idea. A hassle free date with no expectations? Sounds just about perfect to him.
But when Olympus sends him his match, a male escort who goes by the name of Pallas, Harris gets a lot more than he'd paid for. Blond and cool, Pallas cuts through Harris's guard like a clean blade. The battle is on for Pallas's heart. But Pallas is no amateur—though he's wild for Harris, he fights to keep the seductive Hades from breaking into his soul. Like a warhorse, Pallas is chasing a dream of his own and too close to his goal to stop now.
Amidst the whirlwind of Erebus's success, and with Paris calling him, Harris is desperate to get through Pallas's line of defence and reach the young sensitive artisan behind Pallas's synthetic front.
In the science of perfumery, as in love, the fragrance blooms in the heart.
But the real trick, Harris knows, is all in making it last...
May 19, 2016
I see things I want to change but change is collective and the collective escapes me.
I find the things I need are the things I already have, but having is barely enough when wanting gains ground everyday.
I hear music I could write if I knew how.
I resist the rat race but it shoves me around with a force cool as a berg and as subtle.
I grab for things one buys with money yet despise every thing currency touches.
I read a book every other day but struggle with writing a good sentence–a sentence that does not come from Ego but from a place that lives only if others acknowledge it.
I love fiercely, with pride and greed, yet know love is a bird whose wings beat faster than my human heart.
I have ambitions the height and width of a Mountain and emotions deep as the shadow it casts.
I have doubts planted in a soil which was tended by others while I was not looking.
And what I know is already changing as I type these lines.
But I am a girl and you are a boy and I love you. And if you were a girl I would love you too.
That is all the truth I need today.
April 5, 2016
Jack is late for work, but as he rushes by the open bathroom door, he spots his best friend Sebastien, who is in there shirtless and shaving...
Things get hot and messy up against the sink.:-)
February 25, 2016
I've always had a weak spot for queer men who are labelled as "feminine" in society. I wanted to explore that. Wanted to see what would happened if I wrote a story featuring two best friends, one who is deemed "hetero-normative" or "passing for straight" and the other, forever tagged "fem" or "little queen". But it was CRUCIAL to me that I stay away from the goddamn tropes and clichés. As a bi woman living with a bisexual man, discussions about representation and appropriation are ongoing and greatly influence my writing. In short, if it doesn't fly by partner (credibility wise), I work on it some more.
This book is simple in its story line. But what surprised me, was where Sebastien and Jack took me. Especially Jack. I hadn't felt this kind of chemistry between two characters since Nick and Derek in my first book Split.
JMS Books is releasing Auguries of Summer in April. I 'll be doing a giveaway of course and can provide some ARCs as well.
On another note, I'm turning 40 years old this week and going on a road trip down to FLA. :-)
But those who want to write me for an ARC request can at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Auguries of Summer, April 2016
Easy-going, Sebastien divides his time between working as a cleaning technician, caring for his widowed father or running off to the park for soccer practice. Coasting through his existence, he's convinced he doesn't have much going for him.
That's not what his best friend Jack thinks. Quick-witted and passionate, Jack is fascinated by art and history, but the greatest book or painting could never compare to how he feels when he's alone with his best friend Sebastien.
In the last five years, Seb and Jack have shared everything. Sometimes even a bed. Yet, though their chemistry is smoking hot, Sebastien keeps Jack at a safe distance. But when the two move in together to lower their living expenses, that distance gets smaller and smaller, until Sebastien and Jack are standing so close, they can't even see what's right in front of their eyes...The love of their life.
December 1, 2015
I thought some of you might be curious to get a glimpse of the new book coming in January... It's an enemies to lovers themed book featuring Andy, a cute bartender with a heart of gold and a tendency to put himself last, who won't admit to himself that those wild feelings he has for Alexei--that little jerk--aren't exactly what he believes they are... Every time Andy is in the same room as Alexei, his best friend's on and off lover, Andy can't seem to keep his cool!
This scene is an intense moment between Andy, his current boyfriend Quinn, and their friends Dimitry and his lover Alexei.
Dimitry and Alexei have an announcement to make...
Enjoy the sample!
Copyright © 2016 Mel Bossa
All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication
I put my wine glass down on the kitchen counter.
I need to take it easy on the booze because I’m on my second glass already and Dimitry and Alexei aren’t even here yet. I’m nervous and feel like canceling, but it’s too late now.
“Taste this.” Quinn cuts a little piece of the chicken breast and hands the fork to me. “Definitely better with the lemon zing to it.”
I taste it and agree. “It’s great,” I say, putting my hand on his shoulder and looking into the rich sauce bubbling in the pan. “Thanks for doing all this, by the way.”
“I enjoy it, you know that.” Quinn turns the heat down and picks up his wine glass. “So, how does it feel being at home with me and Iris? Think you can survive another week?”
“It’s not so bad.” Actually, this is the first time I’m alone with Quinn this week. During the day, Iris is always here and every time I need a glass of water or something to eat, I have to walk into their domain where I immediately feel like I’m trespassing. When I was working, I didn’t notice it that much, except on the days when she’d have to stay a little longer, but now, I’m a guest in my own home. And then there’s Henry. His school isn’t far from here, so he drops by afterwards, and does his work at the kitchen table. He grew up around the chaos of his parents’ kitchen and works best when he’s surrounded by it.
I’ve spent the last days locked up in the bedroom, on my computer, thinking about Dimitry. I almost sent him a flirty text last night. I’m glad I had the common sense not to do it. I need to stay away from my computer after I’ve had a few drinks.
I’ve been wondering about my feelings for him…
Are they real or am I just confused?
Now Dimitry and Alexei are on their way here and I haven’t been in the same room as Alexei, since that day, almost a year ago.
The shotgun incident. I wonder how Alexei feels about seeing me again. He’s probably more anxious than I am.
“Dimitry must be a little nervous, huh?” Quinn sets his glass down and checks on the three pans he’s got going on the stove.
“Well, you know him. He’s trying to keep everything calm and under control.”
“Yeah, that’s Mitya all right.”
I cringe a little. “Why do you keep calling him that? He doesn’t really like it.”
“Dimitry doesn’t like being called Mitya?” Quinn frowns, stirring the sauce. “Oh, but I thought that’s what you called him.”
“Yeah, up until last year, but his mother used to call him that. He just doesn’t like hearing that name anymore. It reminds him of her. You were there, at the funeral.”
“I didn’t know that,” Quinn says. “I thought he liked the nickname.”
“I told you he doesn’t, like, a million times.”
“No, I don’t think you ever mentioned it before.”
The way Quinn never really listens to anything I say bothers me, but now isn’t the time for an argument. Besides, he never pays much attention to Dimitry. Quinn isn’t interested in holistic or alternative medicine. But I think I was drawn to his practical, down-to-earth personality in the beginning. It was a nice change from coming home to my roommate Lola at all hours of the morning and then passing a joint around, ranting about social injustice all night.
“Oh, they’re here,” Quinn says, when the door bell rings.
My heart jumps up into my mouth.
Here we go.
At the door, Quinn takes the lead and I’m grateful for his friendly manners and grace under pressure. He grabs Dimitry and Alexei’s coats, chitchatting breezily with them about the weather and traffic. But in the meantime, I stand a little aside, constantly trying to meet Dimitry’s downcast eyes. He won’t look at me. He’s anxious, fidgeting with his watch, then fixing his belt.
Finally, Alexei takes a step my way and raises a thin blond brow. “Hi, Andrew, how are you?” He has that accent I really like and his voice is so musical. For a second, I lose my cool at the sight of him. “Fine,” I mutter. “You?”
How can I compete with this man? He’s breathtaking. Alexei is shorter than I am and sort of petite, but his presence is grandiose. His eyes are dark, almost black, and slightly slanted—very enchanting. Then he has that perfectly symmetrical face those eyewear models usually have. Yet, where Alexei really stands out, is in his fashion style. He’s bold in his choice of clothes, always original. Tonight, he’s in a pair of Tom Ford denim blue jeans and a fitted black Prada jacket.
I suddenly feel under dressed, old and fat.
Alexei offers me his smooth and fine hand. “Nice to see you again,” he whispers, and a light seems to shine in his eyes.
Affected by him, I shake his hand and give him a quick hug. “Yeah, it is,” I mumble, pulling away. What is that cologne he’s wearing? It smells fantastic on him and makes my head swim with memories of lovers past. Still, no matter how great Alexei looks and smells, I can’t erase the memory of him that day, sitting in the bathtub with a shotgun under his chin.
Why would he do that to himself? What went down that afternoon?
But I guess we’re all supposed to pretend it never happened. Why can’t we discuss it? Does Dimitry feel responsible for Alexei? Is that why he stays? He’s a therapist after all. Maybe he believes he can heal Alexei.
Sometimes I wonder if their relationship is healthy for either of them.
“Sit down. Come in.” Quinn leads us to the couches and then busies himself with pouring everyone a glass of red wine.
Dimitry and Alexei sit together on the divan, while I settle into the chair. Quinn sits across from me on the other sofa. At last, Dimitry looks at me. I can tell something is wrong. They probably had a fight on their way here. Their fights are hardcore, legendary, or so Dimitry says. His eyes are a little red and he has trouble keeping his voice steady. “Are you enjoying your vacation? You look rested, Andy.”
“Yeah, well, he’s been lounging around in bed all day,” Quinn says, laughing.
“That’s the only place I’m allowed in.” I give Quinn a hard glance and that shuts him up.
Alexei sets his glass down on the coffee table. “Uh, well, should we tell them now?” He looks over at Dimitry. “Or later?”
“Tell us what?” Quinn livens up in his chair and leans in, all ears.
My blood turns cold.
If this is what I think it is, I’m not going to be able to hide my reaction. I can feel pain in my chest already. I’m going to lose it.
Alexei touches Dimitry’s hand. “Well, say something.”
My face is set in stone.
“Okay, nevermind then, I’ll tell them.” Alexei sits up and clasps his hands together. “We’re getting married.” He clears his throat and adds in a low voice, “Maybe next month.”
“Oh, my God, really?” Quinn jumps out of his chair and hits Dimitry’s shoulder. “That’s fantastic, man!” He looks over at me. “Andy, isn’t that fantastic?”
This isn’t happening. This cannot be happening.
Pale faced, Dimitry leans into me. “Andy, I was gonna tell—”
“I’m gonna fucking throw up.” I pounce out of my chair and bolt for the bathroom. I don’t want Dimitry to see me like this. I manage to close the door behind me, but Dimitry pushes it open before I can lock it. He barges in and gives me a hard look. “Don’t freak out on me.”
“Andy?” Quinn yells my name. “What’s going on?” he asks, from the living room. “Are you all right?”
I call out to Quinn over Dimitry’s shoulder. “I’m fine. Just gimme a second.” Inside the washroom, I stand with my back against the shower stall, staring into Dimitry’s face. “You’re crazy. I can’t believe you. I cannot fucking believe you, Dimitry. How can you marry him?”
“Look, it is what it is, okay?” Dimitry says this softy, as though he’s speaking to an injured child. “You know I don’t have a choice at this point.”
On the other side of the door, Alexei sounds angry. “Uh, hello?” His voice is high pitched. “What are you doing in there? What the hell is going on?”
Dimitry looks at me with wide eyes. “He needs his papers,” he whispers. “It’s come to this. He can’t just keep working under the table. I promised I’d take care of him and this is what I need to do I think.”
I knew it. I knew Alexei would use Dimitry to get his damn working papers! I take a step towards him. “Don’t do this, Dimitry. You’ve done enough for him already and—”
“Hey!” Alexei yells from behind the door. “Open up, Dimitry!”
“Guys, open up,” Quinn chimes in. “Andy?”
“Please, Dimitry,” I say, in a desperate voice. “Don’t marry him. Please.”
Dimitry sighs and looks away. “You have to understand… I don’t want him to go back to Bulgaria and he needs to work. Alexei needs me.”
Alexei bangs on the door. “If you don’t open this fucking door, Dimitry, I’m gonna go home and pack my fucking bag!”
“All right, all right.” Dimitry turns and opens the door. “What? We’re talking. Can you gimme a little breathing room here?”
Alexei’s pretty face is flushed pink. “What? He’s not happy, is that it?”
“Don’t start, Alex.” Dimitry frowns. “Look, let’s all have a drink. Let’s just—”
“What are you doing, Andy?” Quinn asks, pushing on the door a little. “What’s this about?”
Staring me down, Alexei answers Quinn’s question before I can. “Andy here thinks I’m using Dimitry to get my permanent residency. Isn’t that right, Andrew?”
“No, of course Andy doesn’t think that.” Dimitry turns to Alexei and starts on damage control. “He’s just surprised. I told you he’d be surprised and that maybe springing it up on him wasn’t a good idea. This is huge news for everyone, darling. Okay?”
“I know you hate me,” Alexei says, his beautiful mouth turning upside down. Now, he’s going to turn on the waterworks. He spins around and walks off to the couch where he sits and picks up his wine glass. “Asshole,” he mutters.
“Asshole?” I shake my head at him. “Coming from you, that’s fucking rare.”
“Hey, hey, come on, guys. Alexei, no, it’s not like that,” Dimitry whispers, running to him. “Everyone’s happy for us. Right, Quinn? Andy?”
Quinn moves closer to me and squints. “What’s going on?”
I don’t want this to get out of hand. I’m not ready for a scene. “Nothing, I’m fine. I’m emotional. So what?” I look at Alexei and raise my voice. “My dad died this week, by the way, so excuse me for being a little upset.”
“I’m sorry about your dad, okay?” Alexei drinks and fixes his jacket. But I see his hand is shaking. He’s really terrific at hiding his true self. At pretending he doesn’t give a damn about anything.
Well, two can play that game.
I shrug and walk out of the bathroom. “I don’t hate you, Alex.” But I won’t sit. I can’t. I feel like running out the door.
That little jerk is going to marry my best friend.
“You know, Andy,” Alexei says, after a few seconds of silence, “I’ve made some big mistakes, I know that. Don’t you think I know it? I fucked up, but I’m trying to get my shit together now. I’m trying to climb out of the dark.”
Oh, the drama.
Dimitry is emotional and sits by Alexei, picking up his small hand. “We’ve all made mistakes,” he whispers and looks up at me. “We’re human. We should have compassion for ourselves, right?”
Dimitry is going to regret this. He’s going to look back on this night one day and wish he’d told Alexei to pack his suitcases for Bulgaria. But what can I do to stop him from making this mistake?
It’s too late. I waited too long. I’m trapped in my own fears.
Alexei looks up at me and somehow, his dark eyes tell me he isn’t lying this time. “That day… Andy, that day, I was in a hellish place, okay? I was confronted with love for the first time and all the suffering I’d been put through as a kid, I don’t know but it was like—”
But Dimitry cuts him off. “No, Alexei, you don’t have to explain that day to Andy.” He looks at me with a pleading expression. “Andy doesn’t judge you, right?”
Why can’t he let Alexei speak for himself once and for all?
I briefly shut my eyes and open them again. “No, of course not. I don’t judge you, Alexei.” I try to smile, but my lips feel stiff. “I just… I’m protective of my best friend. Look, everything is all right, okay? I’m not a very expressive type of guy, but I’m telling you, everything is okay. Let’s just have a drink.” I turn to Quinn. “And enjoy my boyfriend’s food. He’s worked all afternoon for tonight.”
Quinn is clearly relieved. He still doesn’t know what just happened, but as long as there isn’t an argument, he’s happy. “Good,” he says, clapping his hands. “I’m glad we worked everything out.”
We return to our seats and pick up the conversation where we left it.
But the vibe is all wrong and I can’t make it right.