Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 64847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
After a pause, Aleksei said, “We’re not just talking about my dinner habits, are we?”
“No, we’re not. I think it’s amazing that you stepped so far outside your comfort zone when you made our arrangement. In fact, the more I get to know you, the more I see just how huge that was. But while you’re at it, why not use that momentum to shake things up a bit? Live a little! Try new things.”
“This is already so much. I’m not sure if I can handle any more upheaval.”
“Okay.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“I’m not. I just want the best for you, Aleksei.”
Actually, it was more than that. I wanted to know he was going to be okay when our arrangement ended. If I didn’t do something to shake him up while I had the chance, he’d just go on working a million hours a week and only doing what felt safe and comfortable. It’d be fine if that made him happy, but it clearly didn’t.
After another pause, he asked, “What sorts of things would you suggest to get me out of my rut?”
“There are a million things you could do. Here’s just one idea—play hooky from work, go to the airport, and buy a ticket for the next available flight. Then spend forty-eight hours exploring your mystery destination.”
“What’s a much smaller idea than that?”
“Find a restaurant you’ve never been to before and try a world cuisine that’s brand new to you.”
“Let’s do that,” he said. “We’ll figure out the details later, but for now I’d better go, because I’m falling asleep on the couch. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See you then.” I was grinning as we ended the call.
The next morning, Romy and I attended our pole dancing class. It was both exhilarating and physically demanding, and I worked hard to master a challenging new move. I loved pushing my body’s limits and discovering it was capable of more than I’d imagined.
Plus, the class was just plain fun. It was divided into various skill levels and included people of all ages, and it was really cool to see everyone from kids to seniors learning and making progress.
Its most enthusiastic student was a tiny old lady named Stana Dombruso, who everyone called Nana. Romy was kind of but not really related to Nana through his half-brother Adriano, but as far as she was concerned, he was family. At some point she’d decided I was too, and I loved her for it.
“You both need to come over for lunch,” she told us when class ended. “I felt like baking last night, and I made way too much. I can’t be eating all that shit at my age, but you two got nothing to worry about.”
When we both told her we’d love to join her, she linked arms with us and said, “We should stop by the liquor store on the way home, because you know what goes with cookies? Margaritas.” Who were we to argue?
Nana lived in a giant, gorgeous Victorian in one of San Francisco’s ritziest neighborhoods. She’d had it painted top to bottom in a shimmering rainbow, and her small front yard held an ever-changing display of the gayest stuff she could come up with. It currently featured a large, rainbow-colored arch made entirely of dildoes, framing a pair of male mannequins who were making out while dressed as Batman and Robin.
There were two reasons for the rainbow and the yard display—she was a huge LGBTQ ally, and she really hated the homophobic asshole who lived across the street. Apparently they’d been feuding for years.
When we went inside, I left my skateboard and messenger bag in the foyer and followed Nana and Romy to the kitchen. There we found Nana’s cute little husband Ollie, shaking his ass to an old rock and roll song while blending up some margaritas. “Hey there, hot stuff,” he said, as Nana kissed his cheek. “Did you learn any sexy new moves in class today?”
She flashed him a smile. “You know I did. I’ll show you later.” Those two were pure relationship goals. “Also, you read my mind on the refreshments,” she told him, as she put a big bottle of tequila on the counter.
A couple more family members and Romy’s fiancé Marcus joined us for lunch. It was a beautiful day, so we ate outside on the patio. At one point, Nana asked the happy couple, “Have you two finally nailed down a date for your wedding reception? I know you said it was happening next month, but I need details!”
Romy had grown up in Las Vegas, and he and Marcus planned to get married at the drive-through Elvis chapel, followed by a party with their friends and family. The idea was to keep it super casual, but if Nana had her way, she would have taken it over and turned it into the wedding of the century.