He smiles. “That’s so cute. You’ll be fine. This is a lot safer than swimming at night, and you did that just fine.”
“Good point.”
I feel like I finally have the old Jason back. He got weirdly pushy for a while there. Now I feel like there’s no pressure on me. He’s just my friend. I think we’re still dating, but I’m not sure how to label us yet, as we’re definitely not boyfriends. I don’t think we could ever get there until I trust him enough to tell him about my family.
A voice over the intercom tells us that the flight is boarding.
“Ready?” he asks.
“Ready.”
* * *
The flight passed pretty quickly.
Jason and I set up a little gaming hub, using our tray tables. We played a lot of Smash Bros. I even won a few matches, but I suspect he was going easy on those ones. He even had a small nap on the plane.
As he did, he rested his head on my shoulder. I let him. I didn’t even care that people could see us.
It was the cutest thing.
He looks so delicate when he sleeps. So vulnerable. It did funny things to my chest.
It’s kind of weird, but I feel lighter than I have in months. I’m away from my family. I have as close to total freedom as I will ever get.
This was such a good idea.
Jason moves away from me to adjust the handle on his bag. Maybe I’m taking him for granted. He’s been so great. He told me about the scheme. He told me about who he really is. Why can’t I trust him? What’s wrong with me?
He was right, before. It really is hard to date while I keep a big part of who I am totally sectioned off from him. I am totally half-assing my relationship with him. And that will never last. Sometime soon, I’ll need to decide. I should either fully commit and tell him everything.
Or I need to let him go.
The thought of that generates such a strong reaction in me. I can’t do that.
“You want a coffee? I feel like we should be basic LA gays and get iced coffees.”
“Yes!”
We wheel our bags through the airport and find a Starbucks. Soon we’re both holding jumbo iced coffees. Basic, but delicious. Together, we head outside. And hello, there’s the sunshine. It feels way different from Florida. It’s missing a lot of the humidity. There’s just something about this city that makes me feel good.
“Have you ever been here?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No, never. Have you?”
“Yeah, once.”
“And you liked it?”
“I loved it.”
“Cool.”
We find the Four Seasons hotel shuttle and board it, sitting in the back row. Like we’re rebels or cool kids. For the first time, I think people seeing us might consider us as a couple, not friends. Because we’re miles away from home, I actually freaking love the thought. Jason keeps bumping into me, or touching me. I have no reason to stop him.
So I don’t.
I love the drive to the hotel. I spend it listening to music and looking out the window, at everything. LA isn’t the prettiest of cities—it’s so flat and hazy with pollution. But who cares? I love it.
For one thing, there are movie billboards everywhere.
This is where they’re made.
Well, a lot of them. I know because of tax breaks they film in a lot of weird places now. Like Georgia. Or Canada. But, still, LA will always be the heart of the industry.
We reach the hotel and whoa.
It’s stunning.
It’s a tall white building with gleaming windows. I feel like such an adult, doing this. We get our bags, tip the driver, and then go through the automatic doors into the lobby. It’s so grand, with this cool artwork hanging from the ceiling. It’s like a modern chandelier.
“Happy?” asks Jason.
“So happy. This is amazing. Are you?”
“Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever felt better. They have no control over us now—how cool is that?”
“It’s so cool.”
He checks in, and then we take the elevator up to our room. We’re really high up.
We reach our room, and he opens the door.
Oh my God.
There’s a massive window curving around the whole space, giving a great view of the city and the blue sky. It’s so vivid. I’ve never stayed in a room as nice as this.
Also.
There’s only one bed.
“Oh,” says Jason. “I asked for two beds. Let’s go back…”
I grab hold of his shirt, and pull him to me. “Don’t.”