“Nervous?” Abby looked up at her boyfriend as the elevated train car rattled and screeched around a turn before straightening out and heading towards the loop.
“What? No. Why would I be nervous?”
“A million people…” She shook her head. “I can’t imagine that many in the same place at one time.”
Justin nodded and laughed. “Can you imagine if they threw one of these things back home? There’d be like ten people there!”
Abby snickered. “Yeah, and eight of them would be holding up nasty signs and Bible verses.” She tugged self-consciously at her denim shorts. They were her shortest pair- the ones she used to only wear around the house or in the barn. “I just hope we fit in okay.”
“We will, don’t worry.” He flicked at the rainbow bob wig she wore. “And even if we don’t, you look adorable.”
She smiled and squeezed his arm. She thought they both looked adorable in their brand new pride flag t-shirts and matching rainbow knee socks. She couldn’t convince him to get a matching wig, though.
For most of the ride, they’d had the el car to themselves. But at the Roosevelt stop, the downtown college students poured in, each of them brightly colored in rainbow shirts, tights, and fairy wings.
“Still worried we won’t fit in?” Justin whispered.
The train made its way around downtown, picking up more and more rainbow-clad passengers, and before long, the car was tightly packed with glittery limbs, fluorescent colors, and happy chattering people. By the time the train slowed into the Belmont stop, the entire car was hopping and dancing along to an improvised version of Y.M.C.A.
Justin and Abby held each other’s hands tightly, swept along with the scores of fellow passengers onto the platform, merging with hundreds more pouring down the stairs and onto Belmont to join thousands more headed for the hundreds of thousands on Halsted Street.
It was a strange feeling to walk down the middle of the always-busy road, staring up at the five and six-story buildings on either side, rainbow flags fluttering from many of the windows. Abby had goosebumps. A shrieking gaggle of girls in tiny, thong bikinis ran past them, butt cheeks decorated with red lipstick kisses and glitter. Walking the other direction, three towering drag queens in six-inch platform boots and spandex swimsuits twirled rainbow umbrellas with silver streamers around the edges.
“Hey, baby!” The queen in the magenta thong swept two long, acrylic-tipped fingers in Justin’s direction. “Thank you for being so beautiful, baby.” Justin colored a little bit and smirked. Abby squeezed his hand and giggled.
“Wait!” Abby stopped. “Should we be holding hands?”
“What? Why not?”
“Well, you know- we said we were going to try to blend. Be part of the crowd? I feel like we already scream ‘straight as fuck’.”
“Oh, okay, good point.” They continued walking; their fingers relaxed, and their hands fell to their sides.
At the corner of Belmont and Halsted, they ran into a wall of people twenty deep from the actual parade with more people piling in behind them. The air crackled with energy and boomed with deep, bass tempos they could feel in their chests. Rainbow colors were everywhere, and hundreds of people jumped and danced around them: thick, thin, brown skin, black skin, white skin, and so much of it! Naked shoulders, naked midriffs, naked backs, and naked legs, covered in gold glitter or rainbow paint or nothing at all. Abby felt suddenly overdressed in her shortest barn shorts and knotted-up t-shirt, as groups of women danced by her in bedazzled bras, tiny bikini tops, and vinyl bustiers.
And some of the men wore even less. Justin’s eyebrows shot up when a wiry young man jogged by in only a jockstrap and a pair of sunglasses. He wondered about the nudity laws when his eyes landed on a Chicago cop just the other side of the metal parade barrier. There was a rainbow leia around his neck and his smiling face was covered in lipstick kisses.
“C’mon!” Justin had to yell to be heard over the driving bass. “Let’s try to get further up. Maybe it’ll thin out.”
There was a series of sudden, loud pops and the sky exploded in color above them. Abby turned and saw a float with a dozen perfectly-muscled men in gold lamé briefs shooting confetti cannons, filling the air with multi-colored streamers.
Abby laughed. She looked back around to get Justin’s attention, but… where was he?
“Justin?” He was nowhere in sight. She swiveled on her heel, scanning the crowd. “Justin?!!” She took a few uncertain steps, head twisting left and right, scanning every face, looking for the brand new rainbow t-shirt that looked just like hers. The growing pit in her stomach pushed tears to the back of her eyes. He has to be here! It was just a second! “Justin!!!”
She pulled her phone from her back pocket and turned to move away from the parade and BAM!!! Suddenly, she was on the ground, her knees and palms searing with pain. Fucking curb! She struggled to her feet and wiped away actual tears now. Her palms were scraped and blood was trickling from her knees. Shit!
Steps away, she found her phone, a wide crack stretching across the screen. Shit! No, no, no! She pressed at the touchscreen, but got nothing more than a multi-color flicker and then just blackness. She looked around, wincing at the pain in her knees.
With a grimace, she continued north, thinking that maybe Justin had just gotten way far ahead of her.
------
Shit, c’mon Abby, pick up! Justin’s phone rang and rang to Abby’s voicemail. He redialed. He looked all around him as he walked quickly back toward the intersection, scanning every rainbow wig, every rainbow t-shirt.
“Hi, it’s Abby! Please leave a message at--” He pressed “end.”
How could this happen? The last thing he remembered was telling her to head further up Halsted. Maybe she thought I meant the other direction? He headed south on Halsted.
------
Abby wandered for the better part of an hour, frantic steps slowing to a dejected plod. Hot and thirsty, blood soaking into her rainbow knee-socks, she stopped, unable to take another step.
To her left, a tall, gangly woman in a black string bikini walked hand in hand with her girlfriend, her body covered in dozens of rainbow-colored handprints. Large hands, small hands, some sneaking their way out from under the swimsuit. Different hands… different people…. Abby imagined the woman standing naked, arms outstretched, as friends and lovers pressed their painted hands against her flesh. The woman passed by, gave her a wink and a lingering look. Despite herself, Abby smiled at the tight cluster of rainbow handprints on both her bare ass cheeks as she walked away.
On the parade route, a huge roar and cloud of exhaust billowed up from more than a dozen motorcycles. The leather-clad women that rode them waved and threw beads to the crowd. But Abby’s eyes were drawn to the rider at the back. She was inscrutable behind her aviator sunglasses; jaw set and serious; tattooed arms stretched out from her leather vest… Abby’s breath caught.
Behind her, arms criss-crossed over the rider’s chest, thin, white dress tucked between shapely thighs, sat a pretty woman with blonde curls, cheek pressed against the rider’s back, eyes closed, pretty, crimson lips turned up in a smile. She looked like the happiest girl in the world.
And that made Abby sad. She just wanted to be back with Justin. She wished she’d never let go of his hand on Belmont.
She turned her back on the parade, tears streaming, suddenly exhausted. She collapsed on the steps of a closed real estate office and hugged her bloody knees to her chest.
“Hey, you okay?”
Abby looked up, blinking. A woman, just a little older than her, was bending over her. She was… striking. Her face was calm and relaxed, almost expressionless, but the warmth in her clear, brown eyes was penetrating. She wore no makeup, and the right side of her head was shaved. The rest of her hair was dark, wavy, but not long. It reminded her of Justin’s hair. Abby spotted the tail end of a snake tattoo peeking out of her mid-length cargo shorts. And her black tank top left no doubt whatsoever that she was braless.
Woah. Abby took the stranger’s outstretched hand and struggled to her feet.
“You okay?” The stranger repeated, not letting go of her hand.
Abby shook her head. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just…” It felt weird to tell this girl about her boyfriend. “Just lost my partner, and-” She held up her cracked phone.
“Oh, shit! That sucks!” The stranger looked out over the crowd. “Yeah, totally easy to get lost in all this. But listen, I know the bartender at a little bar a couple doors down. Let’s go in there, cool off, and you can use my phone.”
“Really? That would be amazing.”
“Eh, no worries. C’mon. Oh, and I’m Chelsea,” said the stranger.
“Abby.”
------
Justin had stopped trying to get Abby on the phone. Maybe someone had stolen it. Maybe she’d forgotten to charge it. He wandered down Halsted, his eyes still scanning every face, but he was tired and agitated. Why the hell did I let go of her hand?
He paused to catch his breath, leaning against the side of a brick building just off the parade route. He watched the crowd, willing Abby to just appear and jump into his arms.
To his right, there was a group of large men with beards wearing flannel shirts with the sleeves cut off, leather vests, or bib overalls. They danced along to the techno music blaring from a passing float, featuring a half dozen body-builders in tiny red briefs dancing and gyrating, spraying the crowd with crotch-level super-soakers.
And right in front of him, four guys sat in the middle of the side-street in lotus position, each wearing a different colored, full-coverage lycra bodysuit and a necktie. People stopped to take pictures and laugh. What the hell?
“They’re called zentais.”
Justin hadn’t noticed the man beside him. He was dressed in a polo shirt and jeans, and he held a white trash bag in his hand. “What?” Justin was more confused than ever.
“Zentais. You know, like a bodysuit, but they cover the face and head, too? Like Spiderman? You looked confused.”
“Oh, I guess I just don’t get the joke.”
“Well, they’re called zentais, and they’re wearing neckties…” The stranger raised his eyebrows expectantly, but Justin just stared blankly. “And they’re meditating… zen… ties?”
Justin laughed despite himself. “Wow! Not a great joke.”
“Eh, at least they seem to be having fun.” The man looked at Justin. “Which is more than I can say about you.”
“Oh, yeah, sorry. Got separated from-” Supposed to blend, remember. “-from my partner, and they’re not answering their phone.”
“Oh, really? Well, what do they look like? Four eyes are better than two.”
“Short-ish. Rainbow wig. Pride flag t-shirt.”
They peered into the undulating sea of people before realizing that described approximately half the crowd. They laughed at the same time.
“Ok, that’s funnier than zen-ties! But hey- I live right up there.” The stranger pointed to a balcony four stories up overlooking Halsted street. “We can get a bird’s-eye view. You never know.”
Justin studied the man’s blue eyes. What other options did he have? “You sure it’s no trouble?”
“Not even a little.” The man gestured with his trash bag. “Let me just chuck this in the dumpster. Name’s Paul, by the way.”
“Justin.”
-----
Abby slid onto a bar stool and Chelsea took the one next to her. Abby couldn’t help but notice the snake tattoo again. “Nice ink, by the way.”
“Oh, thanks. Best artist in Chicago.” Chelsea lifted the leg of her shorts, revealing even more coils of snake. Abby felt a little flutter in her stomach. “It keeps going, but, well…” Chelsea rolled her eyes. “I guess this ain’t that kind of bar!” she laughed. “Anyway, here.” She set her phone on the bar in front of Abby.”
Abby was confused. “Oh, right! Justin…”
“Cool,” Chelsea replied without blinking. “I’ll get us some water or something, okay?” She stepped off the stool and headed for the bartender.
------
Justin, still uneasy at getting into an elevator with a stranger, watched Paul closely as he pushed the button for the top floor. He was good-looking, no doubt. Classic, friendly, wide features with pale blue eyes and a neat, professional haircut. He was older, maybe mid-thirties. But it was the way he was dressed that most impressed Justin. He wore a simple polo shirt and jeans, but they seemed to fit him perfectly, as if he were the exact proportions of the mannequin in the store.
The door opened. Paul smiled and waved for him to follow. His apartment was spectacular. The brick walls were covered in art. The furniture was crisp and modern, the floor lamps futuristic and whimsical. Bass heavy music played at a tolerable volume from somewhere in the apartment. The air was cool, and it smelled amazing. Everything was perfect.
“Wow, great place!” Justin said.
“Thanks. Not my doing, though. Hubby’s a decorator. Such a stereotype, right?” Paul laughed and waved at the dining room table, where a group of other men sat drinking and laughing and sharing a rainbow-decorated cake.
He followed Paul to the sliding glass door to the balcony, and back out into the hot, noisy, vibrating atmosphere of Pride. But now he could see the massive scale of it. The parade bobbed and swayed on its route directly below him, stretching as far as he could see up Halsted, a bouncing, rocking, river of rainbow covered bodies.
“Pretty cool, huh?”
Justin nodded stupidly. “How are your friends not out here? This is amazing!”
“Pride’s a quieter kind of thing for us these days. Did our share of partying back in the day, though.” He turned back to the door. “See if you can spot your friend. I’ll be right back.”
“Oh, right, Abby!” Justin turned back and peered down at the sea of rainbow wigs.
------
“Any luck?” Chelsea set down a sweating glass of ice water in front of Abby and another beside her.
“No. Tried twice.”
“Well, keep trying. In the meantime…” she held up a damp washcloth. “My bartender friend was nice enough to give me this. Spin ‘round. Let’s take care of those knees.”
Abby tried not to gasp as Chelsea’s fingers lifted her leg and rolled down her rainbow knee-sock. She cleaned the blood streaks from her shins and dabbed at the nasty scrapes on her knees. “Sorry if that stings.”
“No, it’s fine.” Abby studied her face. She noticed the spattering of freckles dotting Chelsea’s nose and cheekbones. So pretty! “Why’re you being so nice to me, anyway?”
Chelsea smirked, but didn’t look up. “Well, you looked like you needed some help. Besides…” she switched to Abby’s other knee. “You’re way too pretty to be crying at Pride.”
Abby blinked and raised her eyebrows. “You think I’m pretty?”
Chelsea looked up at her with huge, brown eyes and gave a little, incredulous laugh. “Yeah, of course. Very pretty.”
Abby knew she was blushing, so she took a too-big gulp of ice water, dribbling more than a little down her chin. Chelsea laughed. “So, why’d you and Justin come to Pride? Just lookin’ for a party?”
“Oh, um… well, kinda. I mean, we’re both from a really small town, and we’ve never seen anything like this. And…” she sucked in air through her teeth and looked away. “I guess we’re maybe not a hundred percent straight? But we’re not sure! I mean, we’ve got questions.”
Chelsea’s eyebrows shot up. “Both of you?”
Abby nodded.
“Wow, so you thought, ‘fuck it, let’s just jump in the deep end, see if we can swim’?” Chelsea laughed and Abby couldn’t help but laugh with her.
“Something like that, I guess?”
Chelsea nodded down at her phone on the bar. “So, you wanna try him again?”
Abby looked directly in her eyes, feeling the little flutter in her stomach become a flurry. “Not yet. I’m kinda just enjoying sitting here with you.” The words echoed in her head.
Chelsea bit her lip and looked sideways at the bar before looking back to Abby. “I’m sorry, but I’m having a real hard time not trying to kiss you right now.”
Abby took a sharp breath.
“Can I? Kiss you, I mean?”
Abby couldn’t speak. She could barely nod.
Chelsea smiled and leaned toward her. Abby felt the electric warmth between them build as the distance closed and Chelsea’s super-soft lips touched lightly against hers… and then again… before pressing full against her. Abby grabbed the bar to make sure she wouldn’t fall off the stool. Chelsea pulled back, but Abby leaned forward and deepened the kiss. She felt Chelsea’s tongue pass between her lips and met it with her own. She felt like she was going to melt.
When Chelsea finally did pull back, her face was flushed. “Whoa.” She smiled broadly and laughed. “Any other questions?”
Abby tented her fingers over her nose and mouth, laughed and shook her head. And then reconsidered. “Well… maybe one or two.”
Chelsea smiled. “C’mon.” She took Abby’s hand, pulled her off the barstool, and headed for the back of the bar.
-----
“Any luck?” Paul handed a martini glass half-full of pink liquid to Justin and closed the sliding glass door behind him.
“What is it?” Justin took the drink gingerly. It was the first time he’d held a martini glass.
“Dunno. Lots of vodka. No idea what makes it pink, though. Hubby’s the mixologist.”
Justin took a sip and tried hard not to cough at the strong sweet-sour burn of whatever it was he was drinking.
Paul smiled. “Yeah, lots of vodka.” He gestured down to the parade. “So, did you spot her?”
“Not yet.”
Paul joined him, his arm just a fraction too close to Justin’s. Justin felt something warm and unfamiliar in the pit of his stomach. Must be the vodka.
“So, what’s the deal with you and Abby, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Deal? What do you mean?”
“Just curious. Two kids, not from around here. Just a day in the big city, thought you’d see what Pride’s all about?”
“Oh, well, we’re here for college. High-school sweethearts, actually. But we really didn’t have anything like this back home. We wanted to see if we… um, fit in. If that makes sense.”
“Makes a kind of sense, sure.”
Justin looked at Paul. He seemed so calm, so confident, so assured sipping his pink martini, utterly unfazed by the technicolor tumult raging below. He thought about the thousands of men on Halsted below- glitter-sprayed, muscular torsos, glammed-up drag queens, and young dudes wearing rainbow-flag capes and jockstraps. Paul wasn’t any of those things. And Justin was insanely attracted to him.
Paul caught him looking. Justin glanced down, but forced his eyes back up to Paul’s. Fuck, they’re so beautiful. They held each other’s gaze for a long second before Justin took a step forward. Paul straightened, slightly. Justin took another step and pressed his lips against Paul’s.
Far from being surprised or pushing him away, Paul returned his kiss, welcomed it. Kissing Paul was different; there was no soft yield; it was firm, direct. Paul’s lips pushed back, which made Justin push even harder. He ran his tongue over Paul’s lips but pulled back sharply.
“Oh, shit, I’m sorry- your husband…”
Paul smiled easily. “Trust me, he’s fine with it.”
“Oh…”
Paul took Justin’s head in his hands, kissed him firmly, then softly. Justin’s hands found Paul’s sides, slipped up his back and pulled him close. His lips slipped to Paul’s neck, his collarbone. He pushed his fingers into Paul’s body, feeling his hardness, sinking lower and lower…
-----
Abby felt like she was floating, Chelsea’s tongue pushed deeper into her mouth, and she returned the kiss hungrily. Her hand dropped instinctively to Chelsea’s breast, cupping it through the thin fabric of her t-shirt, squeezing as she dragged her thumb over the nipple, eliciting a deep moan from Chelsea’s lips. Her fingers knew exactly what to do.
Chelsea pulled back with a gentle laugh. “Wow…”
Abby had never felt hunger like this. Chelsea’s face was a foot away, and every inch was painful.
Chelsea shortened the distance, closing to a fraction of an inch to Abby’s lips, but she only hovered, breathing her in.
Abby felt something moving between her legs, and the ache became almost unbearable. Her hips moved involuntarily toward the pressure, but Chelsea pushed her back. “Wait just a second, now.” Chelsea’s fingers worked at Abby’s shorts, pulling open the button. Abby felt her shorts sliding over her thighs and down. And then her panties were peeling away from her dripping pussy.
“Please… please kiss me,” she whispered.
Chelsea did, her tongue hard and wide, pushing into Abby’s mouth. Her fingers worked quickly and smoothly, sliding over Abby’s pussy, rubbing back and forth with just the right amount of pressure.
Abby wanted more, needed to be wider, more open. She lifted one leg onto the sink, and Chelsea responded instantly by slipping two fingers easily inside her. Abby let out a sharp gasp and moaned loudly as her legs quivered.
Chelsea kissed her mouth, her neck, her shoulder, her fingers working in and out of Abby’s cunt, the heel of her hand thudding wetly against Abby’s clit.
Abby knew about the orgasm only a moment before it washed over her, wave after wave of pulsating pleasure rippled up through her chest and exploded out her limbs. She shook as she came, her supporting leg nearly buckling, but Chelsea held her close.
When it finally subsided, she could only breathe in short, shallow gulps. Chelsea smiled warmly at her. “Wow,” she said, “you’re incredible.”
-----
Justin felt like he was watching himself in a dream. He watched as he slowly lowered to his knees in front of Paul, as his fingers unbuckled Paul’s belt, unbuttoned his jeans, pushed them down just far enough. He could hear the distant, muffled sounds of the parade still raging four stories below.
And then, suddenly, everything seemed very real. He had imagined this moment a thousand times. Sure, it was a turn-on in abstract. But would he, could he, in real life? And now, here he was. And the question simply and completely evaporated.
He opened his mouth as wide as he could and took Paul’s cock in his mouth. He was surprised at the hot-ness, at the smooth-ness, at the perfect weight of it on his tongue. He pushed himself onto Paul until his throat started to contract. Paul let out a soft moan that turned to gentle laughter. Justin felt small and vulnerable on his knees, looking up at Paul. “What’s wrong?”
Paul just smiled down at him. “Not a damn thing.” He ran one hand through the back of Justin’s wavy, dark hair. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”
“I know.” Justin looked at Paul’s cock. He kissed his way down the length of it before dragging his tongue back up to the tip. He started more slowly, cupping one side of Paul’s dick in his hand and sliding his lips down the other side, relishing the smoothness and the heat. He let his tongue trace the underside, letting the taste of Paul wash over him.
He stroked Paul slowly, letting his fingers slide freely at first before finding a firmer, more deliberate grip. He looked up at Paul. His head was thrown back, a blissful smile on his lips.
Justin leaned in and took Paul in his mouth again, trying to mimic the motion his hand was making. He felt an unexpected quiver shoot through Paul’s cock, and he had a startling realization. For all the fantasizing he’d done about sucking a man’s cock, it had only ever been about that: the sucking. He’d never gotten as far as the climax. But now, the thought drove him nearly out of his mind with desire. He was going to make Paul cum- he had to make Paul cum. And he was going to swallow every last drop.
He shifted on his knees a bit and moved his hands up Paul’s legs to circle around to his ass. He pumped back and forth, falling into an instinctual rhythm. Paul let out a low, hissed moan, and grasped Justin’s hair with both hands.
The strength of the first spurt caught Justin off guard- his rhythm faltered slightly- but he swallowed hard and plunged back down onto Paul’s cock as it erupted into his mouth. Justin swallowed the salty, smooth cum and slowed to counterpoint Paul’s softly bucking hips, before finally easing off, leaving a string of cum between his lips and Paul’s cock.
“Wow.” Paul laughed, pulled him to his feet, and kissed him. “You’re incredible.”
-----
When Chelsea opened the bathroom door, reality came flooding back in. Abby realized where she was, who she was with, and what she had just done. She needed to find Justin. But… what would he say? This hadn’t been the plan. They were just trying to find some like-minded people; just trying to blend. But then... Chelsea.
Abby turned and found Chelsea’s perfect, smiling, freckled face very near her own. “I really need to find Justin.”
Chelsea nodded. “Just tell me I can see you again.”
Abby had one foot pointed towards the door, the parade, the chaos, and Justin… and one foot pointed toward Chelsea. “I- I don’t know. I really want that.”
“Hold on a sec-” Chelsea stepped over to her bartender friend and returned in a moment. ”Here…” She stepped closer to Abby than she needed to, smirked, and took hold of her arm. “For when you get your phone fixed.” She wrote a string of big numbers down the underside of Abby’s forearm. “Ok?”
Abby smiled and kissed her sweetly. “Ok.”
-----
Justin gripped the railing with both hands, breathing heavily, staring down into the heart of Pride. The bass was the first thing to come back to him, followed by the heat of the sun overhead. Paul stepped next to him at the railing. “You okay?”
Justin thought for a moment, then smiled. “Yeah, I’m good.” He turned to look at Paul’s perfect face, feeling indescribably light and happy.
Paul took his face in both hands and kissed him warmly, firmly. “I really need to introduce you to my husband. I think he’d-”
“Oh my god!” Justin pulled away and leaned over the railing. “There’s Abby!”
“Where?”
Justin pointed to a rainbow-wigged figure coming out of a bar across the street. “I have to get down there!” He headed for the sliding glass door.
“Okay, okay!” Paul laughed. “But wait-” he pulled out his wallet and handed a card to Justin. “Here. Call me.” He looked at Justin. “Will you call me?”
Justin froze. He realized he very much wanted to see Paul again. He kissed him quickly and deliberately. “I will.” He took the card. “And thanks.”
Paul laughed. “Don’t worry about it. Now, go find her!”
-----
Abby looked north and then south on Halsted, unsure of which way to go. She felt empty inside, tired, lightheaded. Chelsea had helped her immensely, but now she was back out here on her own, with an undulating, chaotic, crazy world of color taking up all the room in her brain.
But, as she stared at the bouncing sea of rainbows, she spotted a break in the pattern. Something wasn’t quite right. All the people in front of her were bouncing to the music. Except one. Someone was… waving at her?
-----
Finally! Justin had been waving both arms, screaming to be heard over the pumping techno, and finally, Abby had seen him. He waved her to the south, toward the nearest intersection, where he thought it might be easier to cross. But, if anything, the intersection was more chaotic.
He waved her south again, walking on his tip-toes to make sure he didn’t lose sight of her. And then, the parade stopped and he saw his chance. He hopped over the metal barricade and dashed across the street between a vintage bus carrying members the Chicago Gender Society and a marching group of men twirling white rifles with near perfect precision.
Abby had the same idea. She jumped into his arms, and the crowd, unsure of exactly what was going on, but more than happy to support any and every display of love, erupted in cheers and applause.
-----
“Wow, yours’ had a business card?” Abby turned over Paul’s business card, “What does a Financial Advisor even do?”
“No idea. But you should have seen his apartment.” Justin pulled her closer as the empty el car rattled southward. He ran his fingers over the large back numbers on Abby’s forearm. “So, Chelsea’s cool?”
“So cool. Seriously, I thought I was going to lose my mind, and then she showed up.”
The train pulled into Roosevelt station. No one got on. No one got off. The train lurched onward.
“Well, I guess we got a few questions answered, huh?” Abby said.
“Yeah, guess so.” Justin stared off for a moment. “So what happens now?”
“Do you still love me?”
Justin laughed and kissed the top of her wig. “More than ever.”
“So, just a one-off, then?” She traced the black ink on her arm, feeling Chelsea’s fingers on her skin.
“Well…” Justin thought of the way Paul’s back muscles flexed when he pulled him closer. “I don’t know the answer to that. But I’m pretty sure we know how we can figure that out.”
