The Powers of Love

Chapter 3

Later that summer, Vic found himself scheduled for back-to-back shifts, covering for co-workers out on vacation. In addition to his morning route, he drove the Green line at night, looping around the outskirts of the city until the last run shortly before midnight. This new route ran from the community college on the East End to the YMCA on Southside. Around eight one night Vic pulled up to the stop in front of the Y, where a small crowd waited to board his bus. Normally he didn’t look at the fares, didn’t want to encourage conversation; he watched the anonymous hands that dropped quarters and tokens into the meter while in his mind he was already pulling away from the curb, following his route. These double shifts were killing him…

A man’s hand dropped a quarter into the meter, then clamped down over the plastic box as if to ensure the coin went in. Vic watched the hand with an amused detachment, but when it didn’t move, he sighed. There was always a wise guy, every trip. “C’mon man, move along,” he growled, glancing up at the fare.

A pair of sunglasses rode low on the slope of a thin nose, giving Vic a peek at familiar dark-green eyes. The faint smile on Matt’s lips widened when he saw Vic rendered speechless. “Long time, no see,” he purred.

Vic had no response to that.

With a salacious wink, Matt nudged the shades back into place and stepped into the aisle to take a seat at the back of the bus. He rode through the route twice, long legs stretched out into the aisle, arms draped over the seat behind him like an open invitation. Each time Vic looked into the mirror above the driver’s seat, he saw Matt staring back. Even through those dark shades, he felt Matt’s gaze on the back of his head, boring into his shaved scalp to fester in his brain. It surprised him that no one else on the bus felt that gaze like a heat ray closing the distance between them, burning up everything in its path, threatening to consume them both.

The other riders dropped off singly or in pairs. At the last stop, Vic glanced at the mirror and saw Matt had moved closer—no longer content to stay at the back of the bus, he now sat just behind the driver’s seat. When he saw he had Vic’s attention, Matt murmured, “Hey.”

Vic cleared his throat. “You go to the Y now? I ain’t seen you at the gym.”

“You miss me?” Matt wanted to know.

With a shrug, Vic asked, “Where’s your stop?”

“End of the line.” Those shades dipped low again, giving Vic a quick look at those sparkling eyes. “Back to the terminal. With you.”

Outside the windows, the night rushed by them. Vic wondered what else he could say that wasn’t exactly come home with me but left the option open. Surprisingly, it was Matt who suggested a drink after the end of his shift. “Kyle used to say you wanted him,” Matt told Vic over a cup of coffee in a diner downtown. “Said you always asked him to go out after work and he felt real bad turning you down just because of me.”

“He never turned me down.” Vic shook his head, amused. With a gruff laugh, he explained, “I always asked if you’d join us. When he said no, I found something else to do.” At Matt’s faint smile, Vic added, “It wasn’t him I wanted to hang out with. He’s not my type.”

“Oh?” Matt sipped his coffee and tried to sound unconcerned. “He told me you were a good fuck.”

Vic rolled his eyes. Guys like Kyle talked too damn much. “Funny, he said the same about you.”

Matt held his disinterested air for a second longer, then snickered into his cup, sputtering hot coffee through his nose. “Oh God, I’m going to choke,” he gasped, wiping at his face. “I never slept with him. I wouldn’t. I don’t rush into things like that, but he got all mad and kicked me to the curb. Said he’d find someone else to put out for him. Good riddance.”

Sadly, Vic stared into his coffee cup. There went his plans for the evening, or any night in the foreseeable future. But then Matt’s hand covered his. “Hey, I didn’t mean to shoot you down or anything,” he said, his fingers smoothing along Vic’s rough knuckles. “I’m just saying let’s take it slow. One day at a time. See where things go between us, you know?”

Take it slow. I’m not getting any younger here, kid. Neither of us are. But at least he had this moment, this touch. He’d waited this long, right? What was another month or two, if things worked out between them? With an abrupt nod, Vic said, “Sure.”

Those fingers eased around his to fold into his palm. “Remember,” Matt pointed out, “I’m the one who asked you out.”

“For coffee.”

Matt shrugged. “It’s a start.”