After this, feel free to lose my number

Chapter 1

To put it simply the night has been a disaster.

A piece of advice, when you start your idea with "it can't be that bad," just forget about it.

Signing up on tinder as a closeted gay man already spells disaster. But swiping right on that profile that sneaked into the girls sections, declaring themselves "straight but curious" just exudes doom. I guess I kind of deserved it for being so desperate. But who wouldn't be desperate to live out the life that they already know is the right one for them, but is too afraid to actually live it. So when I saw Edward's account, I thought, "You know what? It must be a sign!" What bullshit!

I did create that account trying to spy some hot dudes on tinder; but the fear took over, and it became a purely "straight-man-seeking-women" kind of account. But again, I was caught off guard by that sneaky Ed and and his stupid curiosity. That was it though, no pictures or any other significant information about him. That by itself was already suspicious as hell.

So here I am, in a way-too-authentic Italian restaurant seating across a man that seem to have just sauntered out of my dreams.

I mean damn, when I saw him for the first time as he walked in, I almost drooled. I can only describe him as a "man": Thick beard, thick neck, thick arms, thick thighs, thick everything (and I'm only guessing that there're other thick parts of him). Anyways, he was hot; and all I can think of was, "Jackpot!" But once he sat down, the nightmare began.

First of all, he was way too quiet. For like the first two minutes, he just sat there and stared. And I swear he looked disappointed. He was literally sizing me up and he doesn't really like what he saw. Although I can't blame him. Again he was hot, and to put it frankly, I was not. Compared to his well-built and decently tall frame, I was chubby, and way smaller than him. He had the rugged white woodsman look, and simply put, I wasn't. So I guess I can't really blame him for being disappointed; but still.

Then after that inspection, he finally commenced the conversation. And he had the audacity to comment, "You're early." The nerve! No preamble, no whatsoever. And on top of that, he was actually twenty minutes late. But I ignored that because, well, I was enamored—deep voice, but not too deep; a foreign accent, I think Italian; and his eyes, they were beautiful, brown, big and deep. So I ignored his not-so-amiable tone. And tried to keep the conversation going. But alas, that was for naught!

"Edward right?" I asked.

He nodded then asked, "Jack?"

I nodded back, then the conversation proceeded into a sudden halt.

I tried to kept the conversation going with an awkward attempt at the getting-to-know-each-other game. I asked him, "Anything I should know about you."

Silence. So I tried to lighten the mood by pointing out that I was only asking because his Tinder profile was just a sentence stating his curiosity. Not even a picture, which I guess is a red flag by itself.

A bland, "not much," was all I got.

I mean, I can usually work with that. I hate awkward silence so I've learned to keep a conversation going no matter how stilted it is. But this one was different, and it's not the good kind of different. I had no idea what the hell to say next. All I know is that the guy was hot as hell, and that's not good for me because his hotness equals awkwardness from me.

So I just said, "We should order." I don't even know what tone I used, all I know is that I gave our moments a purpose, and the unbearable atmosphere kind of lessened. But it's still there.

We turned to the menu, but the thing is, I don't know anything about "authentic Italian cuisine" and he was the one who suggested the place. And now, I'm guessing the fact that he has an Italian accent played a part in it. I pushed through the impenetrable veil of silence and asked, "So what's good here?"

"What do you like?" He asked back.

I had half the mind to tell him that I wouldn't be asking if I knew, but I think that'll be too much.
"I like carbonara." Then he winced... He fucking winced, because I like carbonara. WHAT THE PRETENTIOUS NERVE!

Breathe in, breathe out.

I have to calm down. I like to think that I understand him? I mean, I used to be like that: super awkward and uncomfortable with people I don't know at a deeper level. But I've gotten over myself, and learned how to get over that like a freaking adult. And frankly, if he's suffering from the same problem, then he should get over it. But I digress.

"You don't like carbonara?" I confronted.

"Not so much." He replied, "But since we're here, you should try the burrata. It's pretty good."

Wow, that conversation was pretty normal, and kind of amiable if I do say so myself.

"Alright, I'll try it."

Then he smiled, and by golly, can he smile. To put it simply, he is a beautiful man with a beautiful smile. And the the glorious beard doesn't hide the luscious curves of his lips. It's no cupid's bow, but it wouldn't lose to it. Let's call it Apollo's bow then because even if Cupid's bow won't do it justice, only another godly artifact would. And all I can muster in response was an uncomfortable smile because how the hell can I match his.

As we got to eating, the atmosphere turned a lot more comfortable, I guess food is the best mediator.

"So..." I tried starting a conversation, "What do you do?"

"I'm currently finishing up my master in engineering." He said, proudly.

And I was impressed, "Wow." I supposed. "What about you?" He asked back. "Pre-med." I answered. Then he nodded back and refocused on his food.

Most of the night passed on small talks just like that, and I had the chance to rethink my judgment of him being a pretentious douche. He's actually pretty nice. If not a bit quiet. But when he you get him to talking, he will go far with it. Actually, it's kind of hard to insert myself in the conversation. But, honestly, I didn't mind that because, first of all, I just like staring at him; and secondly, he is a really interesting guy.

This is what I've learned: He is an international student from Italy, where he teaches kids how to ski (I mean how freaking cute is that), and he is a well travelled man, fueled by the money the come from his parents, who are both doctors.

"You said pre-med right?" He finally focuses back on me.

"Yeah, trying for peds." I replied.

"Peds?"

"Pediatrics. With kids."

"Oh that's cool. Working with kids are the best."

"I know right."

... And cue the awkward silence. Everything was going great, until I asked the next question.

"So... what got you into tinder?" I asked.

He immediately closed up after that, I literally saw him shudder, then a blank look came over his face.

"I don't think that's any of your business."

O.K. What the hell was that! How rude can he be?

"Well it kind of is my business," I said, obviously ticked off, "I mean we both are here right now because of it."

And from that, I was expecting him to apologize, but he didn't.

"No one forced you to come. As I said I was just curious, but I knew I was going to get grilled like this, I never should have."

And that was that for me. I snapped.

"First of all, I don't know how this is grilling for you. And second, I really don't have to deal with your rude ass. So let's be civil and pay for this, and after this, feel free to lose my number." I said with tenuous calm.

He seem shocked by my quiet outburst, but a single flinch was all I got until he asked for the check, which we split because I am not giving him something to complain about because I planned on leaving him thinking that on hindsight, I was being a complete gentleman. Then we left, and that was that, until it wasn't.