“He’s not even going to be there,” Ben says for the third time this evening.

Ben’s new coworkers have invited him out for drinks tonight, and he has been trying to convince me to come along all afternoon. He might have been successful had he not spent all week teasing me about Craig. With that humiliating scene playing on repeat in my head for the past four days, now I’m guaranteed to go full-spaz the next time I see him. Yes, I’m awkward as fuck in social situations, but typically it is manageable, especially if Ben is there to deflect attention.

“It will be fun. You haven’t been out in forever,” Ben says as he bends down to see his reflection and attempts to tousle his hair. It’s too thick and just curls back at a weird angle around his ears.

“We went out for your graduation,” I remind him. “Three weeks is not forever. Besides, you’ve had your hands full with Jay.”

Ben reaches around me to turn up the volume on his phone, which pumps Broadway tunes through a Bluetooth speaker in his bedroom. Ben plays different genres for different situations, and musicals are his go-to for getting ready. It hasn’t escaped my notice that Ben hasn’t spoken to or about Jay since their dinner on Monday. But I won’t push, unlike some people.

“Grr.” He tosses the gel onto the dresser in a snit. I stop the hand that reaches for the scissors.

“Calm down, Gigantor,” I say, and move the scissors away before grabbing a comb. “You’re just going to make it worse.” I fuss over his hair until I’m satisfied. “It doesn’t matter if he’s there or not. I’m sure everyone you work with has heard the story by now.”

Ben pulls out of my reach and raises his eyebrows. “Really? Self-important much? I have much better things to talk about with these guys than my socially inept roommate.”

“Gah!” I cover my face, because he’s right. I’m being weird and paranoid. “I don’t mean to be so self-obsessed.”

Ben pulls my hands down and gives them a squeeze. “I tease because I love. But I don’t talk bad about you to others. No one else is allowed to say shit and you know it. Only me.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

Ben studies his hair once more, satisfied with my help. “You can make it up to me by coming out. I promise, I’ll make sure you have a good time.”

“What are you, my pimp now?” I say in response to his vaguely suggestive remark. It’s Ben, so I’m certain he meant it that way. I wonder if he’s going to make me change as I look down at my old jeans and faded grey t-shirt that proudly proclaims data is the new bacon. If only.

“You look fine,” he says, as if he knows what I’m thinking. “It’s just beers with friends. Besides, everyone loves bacon references.”

“With my luck, they’ll all be vegan.” I squint my eyes at the sleek button-down he’s wearing and the hair we worked so meticulously to fix. “And if that’s true, why are you trying so hard?”

Ben fakes a gasp and clutches his chest. “I said you look fine, but that’s how you always look. I have standards.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

Half an hour later, Ben is coiffed to perfection, we’ve found a decent parking spot, and there is no Craig in sight among the group of guys waiting outside the Old Town bar. They even laugh at my shirt. Luck must be with me tonight.

We manage to find a bench big enough for all five of us in the back after snagging beers at the bar. Four guys who work at a video game store and me. When I’m asked what I do for a living, three pairs of eyes glaze over when I’m only four words into my job title.

Two of the guys, Jason and Elijah, work part-time while they go to CSU. I’m not sure which is Jason and which is Elijah, because they both wear snapbacks and are attempting to sport the groomed beards that are so popular right now, except neither can grow enough facial hair to make it work.

Dave is the only full-time Game Over employee in attendance, other than Ben. Apparently there are others, Craig and a girl named Laura, but they were busy tonight. Dave tells me that Craig had previous plans, just as Ben promised, and that Laura has a husband and kids and never comes out with them more than a couple times a year.

Jelijah, as they have now become merged in my head, pound back beers and argue with Ben over whether Fallout 4 or Skyrim is the better game. I’m not sure who is advocating which game, and I have no opinion, since that would be like asking me if I prefer the Dallas Cowboys or the Detroit Red Wings. Come to think of it, I don’t even know if those are actual sports teams, but they sound vaguely familiar.

“Do you come into the store often? I remember seeing Ben even before he was hired, but I can’t place you,” Dave says, and flinches when Ben starts shouting about magic and realism and dogs, or something that I’m not following. Dave obviously has opinions on the topic, but he’s being friendly and chatting with me so I’m not left out.

“Just whenever Ben dragged me in. I’m not very good at video games.”

“You like the My Little Pony game,” Ben says, pausing his argument to embarrass me, of course.

“That game makes sense.” I shrug because I won’t be embarrassed over my game choices, of all things. Especially in front of a group of guys trying to decide if bows and arrows or machine guns are better weapons when trying to attack virtual enemies in stealth mode. “It’s all about developing the proper workload allocation in order to maximize profits. It’s like the fun parts of my job, but with colorful ponies. Who wouldn’t like that?”

“If that’s your kind of thing, you might try Planet Calypso,” Dave says. “You get to create entire colonies, determine their economic systems and stuff. It can get really business-ey, which is why I’m not a big fan.”

“Does it have colorful ponies?” I ask, but Dave shakes his head in serious apology. I guess I need to work on my sense of humor with gamers.

After a couple of hours, Jelijah seems to be more interested in the girls at the bar than arguing over games with Ben. They’re off on a chase, and Dave has excused himself to the restroom, leaving me alone with Ben.

“So,” he starts, with the kind of voice that makes me nervous, “I was hoping to hit up In Toto in a bit.”

In Toto is Fort Collins’ only gay bar, after the other one burned down a couple of years ago. Electrical issues – nothing sketchy. As long as I’m there with Ben, then I can get drinks and have a decent time. When I’m alone, the bartenders look right through me. I’ve even managed a few hookups while there. No one notices if you’re blushing in the dark, and a tipsy guy pulling you into a bathroom stall only cares about your oral skills, not your social skills. Hard to fuck that up.

“I knew you were getting all fixed up for a reason. Damn it!”

“Please? I’ve had a long week. I really need this. And so do you. When was the last time you got laid?”

That would also be the night of Ben’s graduation. Relationships aren’t really my thing, but you’d think by the way he acts that I’m a monk. Or a blushing virgin, well, virgin – I can’t help the whole blushing thing. Hell, anonymous hookup sex is probably the only thing you can do with a stranger that doesn’t turn me into a boiling bundle of nerves. It’s when I start to know and like the person that my brain makes sex suddenly awkward as fuck.

“Fine, but you’re not ditching me until I’ve gotten served.”

We loiter outside the bar while we say our goodbyes to Dave. Jelijah ditched us already, following those girls to another bar. Ben’s going to be unbearable now, since he was right and I had a good time. My gaze wanders around Old Town Square, where the bar and many other restaurants, stores, and clubs face. In between is a fountain where parents park their asses in order to let their kids run wild through the water.

A mop of dark hair catches my eye, and my limbs freeze in place. The handsome face that has become the center of both my dreams and nightmares this week speaks animatedly to his dinner companion, a Latina woman with a smile as broad as his on her face. Oh god. Not only have I been flailing over the hot guy at Ben’s store to an embarrassing degree, but he’s straight.

The world outside of Craig becomes a blur, and I can’t dislodge my gaze from him, kind of like being unable to look away from a train wreck, except that I’m the wreck in this scenario. Even when I realize that his eyes have found mine, that to my horror, I’ve been caught, I still can’t look away. Other parts of my body are working just fine, unfortunately, because I can feel heat flood north so immediately and intensely that I try to rub the prickling-hot discomfort out of my neck.

It also fills my ears, and I can tell that Ben has noticed Craig now too, because he leans to say something to me about him, although the throbbing pulse in my head muffles his words.

“Craig!”

Ben’s shout bursts through the stupor I’ve found myself in, and I glare at him with all the ferocity I can muster. What the fuck is he thinking? He knows full well that I wanted to avoid this exact situation tonight. It’s like I’m not even here; my daggers bounce right off Ben as he waves and then makes his way across the square toward Craig. I have no choice but to follow along at his heels like a puppy. I swear, Ben had better sleep with one eye open tonight.

“Well, if it isn’t Blushy McBlusherson and his Ben. How’s your night going, guys?”

Oh no he fucking didn’t.

“You are so dead,” I hiss at Ben, then storm off toward the car.

There’s no way I’m going to the club now. All progress we made is now undone, and my evening is over. I haven’t checked to see if Ben is following me, but as soon as I arrive at his car, he’s already unlocking the passenger side for me, and slides into the driver’s seat without a word.