I ran a hand up my arm, where lines of black ink dipped and twirled in a senseless and random pattern. “They’re tattoos I doodled when I was in summer school senior year. They don’t really mean anything, except maybe representing the my lowest point in life. Took me forever and a lot of money to complete, but I guess I wanted that mental mark to be physical, something I could point to and say ‘See? I’m still alive. I lived through this.’ I don’t know if that’s stupid.”

“No, I think it’s awesome.”

“You got any tattoos?”

“Nah. Never had any money for one.”

“What would you get if you wanted to?”

Peaches snorted. “If you’d have asked me six months ago, I would have said Essie in big fancy letters across my ass.”

“Be serious!” I insisted around a laugh.

“I don’t know, man. I think yours are way cooler than anything I could come up with. I’ve lived through a lot, but I wouldn’t want to remind myself of it by tattooing it on my body.”

“Then you have to tattoo something that makes you happy. You must love music.”

Peaches’s features softened. “Yeah, there’s that. I could get a drum set.”

“There you go. You can put that on your ass.”

“Yeah, a snare drum on one cheek and a cymbal on the other, so people can slap out a rhythm.”

I burst out laughing, and moments later Peaches joined me. I motioned beating a pair of bongos, which intensified our amusement. By the time we finished, my side was pressed against his as I struggled to gasp for air. Once we’d fallen quiet, I decided to stay where I was, even dropping my head to his shoulder and sighing. Peaches said nothing. In fact, he froze, and I could feel his tension through the few points we were connected. I was afraid to ask him if this was okay, because I didn’t want to risk the chance of being told off. If I didn’t say anything, then the decision was Peaches’s on whether or not to shove me away.

To my good fortune, Peaches eventually relaxed and slumped, lifting one hand to lightly touch my hair. To my misfortune, he didn’t speak, probably waiting for me to start. So we sat in silence longer than we should have, both confused and a little cautious. Because I’d gotten a sense of how Peaches operated by now, I knew I’d have to take the reins on this conversation.

I lifted my head, but I didn’t pull away. Instead I turned toward him, bending my legs just enough so that both of my knees sat on top of one of his. Before he could focus too much on that, I spoke.

“So I know I’m not being very subtle about this, and I’m sorry. My intentions were actually pretty pure.” Liar. “I know you’re still reeling from what happened with your ex, and I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

There was enough light from the street to see that Peaches looked a little lost and torn, like someone stuck at a crossroads. By now I liked his oddly shaped nose, but beyond that he had these brown and droopy puppy eyes that always looked a bit sad. I liked looking at them and into them, even as he avoided my gaze.

“Peaches? Don’t leave a guy hanging.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, for probably the millionth time since I’d met him. “I’m not—I don’t get it.”

“Get what?”

“Are you coming onto me?”

I frowned. “I’m pretty sure that’s obvious.”

“Why?”

“Why?”

“I’m not really used to it. You’re seriously attracted to me?”

I resisted the urge to shake him. We all had our insecurities, but this was a little ridiculous. He wasn’t Mr. Universe but he wasn’t ugly, and considering the appearance of your average rocker, he’d have no trouble getting dick or pussy or whatever it was he was into. “Peaches, come on.”

“I’m sor—”

I was afraid I might get short with him, because that’s what happened when I was impatient and sick of an argument. So instead I rested a hand on his jaw and leaned in to kiss him. He still tasted a bit like the chocolate ice cream cone he’d consumed early. It wasn’t a long kiss, barely a peck on the lips, but he was stunned speechless when I pulled away.

“Don’t apologize again,” I said. “I have been very obviously flirting with you since we met but I thought you needed a friend more than you needed someone to fuck.”

Peaches’s lips parted in surprise, and I wanted to kiss him again, for real this time. But I needed his approval or, even better, his desire. So far he hadn’t given me much permission to continue.

“Peaches?” I asked, needing some kind of answer.

“I… I do like you,” Peaches forced out. “More than I should. It’s made me feel really guilty because… you know. Essie. I still love him, and I know that’s not fair to you.”

It wasn’t, and I didn’t like it. But it was a fight between my sex drive and my sense of self-respect. The latter was always lacking, the former always on overdrive. My sex drive had never lost a battle yet.

“I’m not saying we have to be boyfriends,” I clarified, though that kind of was what I wanted. I hadn’t had a boyfriend in a long time, and fucking strangers like Beefhead at clubs had lost its charm. I liked being in a relationship, evidenced by the clinginess and heavy-handed affection that drove Josh away. But finding guys interested in me as a boyfriend were rare. They’d line up for me to suck their cock, but when I needed one for something long-term, it was just crickets. I’d always remember Alejandro, who I’d dated on the down low in high school. He would swear up and down he loved me in private, but when his friends asked who I was, I once overheard him say I don’t know who that homo is.

I wasn’t bitter. Nope. Not at all.

Peaches wasn’t like Alejandro. He dated the queenliest of the queens in front of his macho heterosexual friends with no apparent qualms, and I’d be lying if that weren’t a huge factor in why I wanted to date him. I wanted someone who was proud of me and bragged about what a lucky catch I was to all their pals.

“Then what do you want?” Peaches asked.

“I’d settle for making out right now. Or sex, but only if you’re up to it.”

“You want to have sex—”

“Yes, Peaches,” I interjected with a hint of annoyance. Before he could say anything, I swung a leg over his thighs and straddled him, grabbing two fistfuls of his shirt. “I want you to take me home and fuck my goddamn brains out. Am I being clear enough for you?”

Before Peaches could give me another wide-eyed look, I slammed my mouth against his, holding the back of his head until he melted into the kiss. After an agonizing five seconds, his arms finally slid around my waist, tightening until my stomach was flush with his ribcage. I threw everything I had into the kiss, every trick from my book, and it seemed to be working. Peaches tilted his head all the way back to allow the full weight of my hungry kiss, his lips sliding open to let me in. I wondered if he was thinking of his ex now. I threw that thought away before it had time to germinate.

After a minute or two, Peaches leaned back enough to break the kiss. I knew he felt my erection, because I’d climbed higher up his lap until our groins came in contact, and I was wearing leggings under my long tank top. They didn’t really hide much.

“We should probably go someplace less public,” he murmured, his eyes still a bit dazed.

“Great idea. Your place?”

“Uh, sure. Oliver and Griffin are visiting a friend in Las Vegas tonight.”

“Why do you live with them?”

“I did live with Essie, but…” He shrugged. “Ya know.”

“Right.” My goal was to make sure Peaches didn’t have to say Eddie/Essie’s name for the rest of the night. I pressed on more kiss to his mouth before climbing off and standing. “Let’s get going.”