Never Tear Us Apart by Quinn Brockton

Author:Quinn Brockton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pocket Books
Published: 2008-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

The steely gray light of early morning intruded and woke Brian from a fitful sleep. He was cold, and there was the worst taste in his mouth. He tried to roll over, but his brain sloshed all to one side and he thought better of it as he kept staring at the ceiling.

There were little pink roses on the ceiling.

And then it hit him. He sat bolt upright in bed and saw Lindsay’s naked body next to his in her bed.

“Oh my God,” he screamed, as much from the pounding in his head brought on by the abrupt movement as the memory of what had happened the night before.

Lindsay screamed as she woke suddenly from her shallow drunken sleep.

They both clutched sheets to themselves as they regarded each other a moment.

Brian let his sheet fall away as he began laughing at them and their situation.

“What’s so funny?” Lindsay demanded testily.

“We are,” Brian said, falling back into the pillows and enjoying a heartier laugh.

“So, you think this is funny?” Lindsay said, tucking the sheet firmly around her.

“Uh-huh.” Brian nodded, still laughing.

“You know I don’t do this sort of thing every day,” Lindsay said, indignant.

This only made Brian laugh harder. “Me either,” he managed.

“Then I fail to see what is so funny about—”

“I’m a fag,” Brian shouted at the roses on the ceiling.

Lindsay stared in shock at his naked body as he leaned over the side of the bed and rummaged through their discarded clothes for cigarettes and a light.

“You’re gay?”

“As Elton John’s wardrobe,” Brian said, sitting back onto the bed and offering her a cigarette from the pack that he had found.

“No, thank you,” she said, shaking her head. She grabbed his hand and took a cigarette.

He took one for himself and lit them both.

They sat up in bed and smoked in silence for a couple of minutes.

“So, you’ve never?” Lindsay said, pointing at herself.

“Not never, no,” Brian said. “But not often and not recently. Enough to make sure.”

“And, tonight?” Lindsay asked, a bit hurt.

“Was the melon balls at Don Ho’s and the margaritas at Caramba’s.” He shrugged.

“And those beers at O’Malley’s,” she suggested, remembering the long death-march bar crawl that they had undertaken after their rather unpleasant trip to L. Frank’s. “And the house specialty at the martini bar.” She broke up as she remembered the quantity they had consumed.

“Not to mention the joints we blew in the car, in that alley—I’m not sure where—and that one that got us kicked out of, was it O’Malley’s?”

They chuckled at their debauchery.

“God.” She drew a sharp breath of fear and regret in through clenched teeth. “Were we driving?”

“Driving?” Brian said, howling again. “We couldn’t even find the car.”

This only made Lindsay laugh harder, both from relief and because she was still pretty drunk. “So this was … ?” she asked elliptically, making the question a fill-in-the-blank.

“Nothing personal?” Brian suggested.

Lindsay looked under the sheets at herself and then back at Brian. “No, that’s not it.”

“Just one of those things?”

“Not for me,” Lindsay said, stubbing out her cigarette in an empty teacup she found on her bedside table.

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