4. Hunter

Playlist: Better Angels | Marcus Mumford

Hunter: hey jo, it’s hunter cleary. nic gave me your number so we could set up a time for me to stop by your apartment, i hope that’s okay.

Jo: thank goodness you told me who it was, i’d never have guessed with you calling me jo.

Hunter: haha, i figured since that’s what you go by, it makes more sense for me to call you that. is that okay?

Jo: you calling me giovanna doesn’t bother me, but neither does you calling me jo.

Hunter: hmmm okay. maybe i’ll call you jo for now and then BAM when you least expect it, i’ll drop a surprise giovanna.

Jo: …ok.

Hunter: umm anyway, does tomorrow at like 6pm work for me to stop by to see if it’ll work out?

Jo: can you do saturday or sunday?

Hunter : i have a wedding i’m shooting on saturday, and a super extra baptism party on sunday. maybe next week.

Jo: no let’s just get it over with. tomorrow at 6pm is fine.

Hunter: okay, great! I’ll see you then! ??

Seen at 9:24pm.

“Are there any rules about pets?” I ask Giovanna as we stand in her kitchen. I’d shown up at her door at six on the dot, after watching the clock all day to make sure I’d be on time, and she gave me the quickest apartment tour known to man. It’s only 6:04 and I feel like I’ve already overstayed my welcome.

She eyes me. She’s barely looked at me since opening the door, so this honestly doesn’t feel as awful as I think it should. “Nic didn’t mention you have a pet.”

“Oh, I don’t,” I clarify. “Yet. I want one, though.”

She thinks for a moment. “Our neighbor has a dog and two cats, so I guess not. I’m not a big animal person, but as long as you take care of it and shit, I guess it’s whatever.”

I nod, taking it as close to assent I’ll get from her. “Cool, thanks. One last question.”

“Shoot.”

“Do you not want me to move in? I need you to be honest with me.”

That gets her attention, and she looks up at me, startled. “What makes you think I don’t want you to move in? I don’t care.”

“I don’t mean to pitch a fit, but you’re acting very much like you don’t want me to move in. If that’s the case, say the word and I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. It’s not you—I’m having a shit day. I was supposed to be getting married today.”

She says it as casually as she mentioned oral sex at the wedding, but this is somehow even more jarring.

“I beg your pardon?” I wheeze.

“Yeah. Um, we ended things like a year ago but it’s still hard, you know?” She tries to smile, but her eyes are full of sadness.

Before I can stop myself, my arms are around Giovanna’s shoulders, squeezing her tight. “God, I’m so sorry.”

She awkwardly pats my back. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. It sucks.”

I feel her body relax, little by little, against mine. I try not to think about how soft her breasts are pressed against mine, how she smells like peonies and champagne. “You’re right, it sucks.”

I hug her until she seems to remember that she wants to be aloof and pulls away. “I uh, I actually really needed that,” she admits sheepishly. “Thanks.”

“Anytime. Literally, if I’m your roommate.”

There it is, a ghost of the smile she teased me with at the wedding. I vow to myself that when I move in, if I move in, I’m getting as many of those smiles as possible. I’ll put a penny in a jar every time she smiles at me and once I have a hundred dollars, I’ll— fuck . What can you buy for a hundred dollars in New York? In Georgia I could treat her to a night out, but in Brooklyn, I don’t know, maybe I could swing a slice of pizza for us to share.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask, prepared for her to refuse and tell me it’s none of my business.

Giovanna surprises me yet again. “No. But maybe I need to.” She lifts her eyes to meet mine and be still my heart, I’d forgotten how they’re swirls of burnt caramel, a deep Christmas green, and warm milk chocolate.

I lean my elbows on the counter and rest my chin in my hands. “I’m listening.”

“I need wine for this. Do you like merlot?” She walks to the refrigerator and opens the door, peering inside.

“Do you have moscato?” I ask.

She glances over the refrigerator door at me. “Hun, that’s basically juice, not wine.”

Hun . My heart pitter patters at the nickname she’d called me so often all those summers ago. The name she’d moan when I licked her inner thigh—

“Merlot’s fine,” I wheeze, shaking off the sudden feelings of want I have for her.

Focus, Hunter. I mentally admonish myself. Giovanna is about to be your roommate. And your friend if you don’t fuck it up. Gay people can just be friends even if they fucked twelve years ago.

Jo pours two glasses of wine, and we make our way to the living room. We sit on a dark green velvet couch that reminds me of the green flecks in her eyes. I hope she’ll keep it when I move in. If I move in.

Then, she pours out her heart as abundantly as she poured the wine. She talks about her ex-fiancée, Kelsey, and how blindsided she’d felt when she moved out, leaving only a note on Jo’s dresser. Kelsey called their vendors to cancel the wedding, and left Jo to inform their guests. Then Kelsey was promoted at work when Jo was more qualified. Finally, as the cherry on top of a shit-sundae, Kelsey announced a relationship with their boss just days after the promotion.

It all happens so fast, and before I know it, I’m on my second glass of wine.

“You should curse Kelsey out. Or set her on fire,” I tell Giovanna, noticing a slight slur to my words. Oops .

She doesn’t look at me. “I can’t.” “Why not?”

“I just…I can’t.”

“Fine. Then you should quit and give them hell and tell them–”

“Tell them what? Tell them they suck and then what? I’m out of a job and—” she inhales shakily. “It doesn’t make anything better.”

“Is it a healthy work environment?”

She barks out a laugh. “Oh, absolutely not. It’s awful, especially now. I never wanted to work there long term, anyway.”

“You didn’t?” She shakes her head. “What do you want to do?”

“Same thing I’m doing now, but I want to move back to my hometown. Open my own firm, one that plans with and for the queer community. Port Haven has, surprisingly, become quite inclusive and accepting of the LGBTQIA+ community nowadays. More and more affirming organizations and queer couples are popping up in the area, with a need for event coordination. I want to be the one to provide that service in my hometown.”

She pauses and blushes, looking down at the empty wine glass in her hand. “I know it’s silly. I don’t have the money to open my own firm—”

“Yet,” I interrupt.

She looks up at me again. “What?”

“You don’t have the money to open your own firm yet . Just because it isn’t possible right this very second doesn’t mean that it won’t ever be. I have faith in you, Giovanna.”

She blinks at me, stunned. “You do?”

Aw, heck. Maybe I went too far. Maybe I scared her and now I’ll have to look for housing again.

“That means a lot, Hun.” She looks down at her wine glass and trails her index finger around the edge. “You’re the first person I’ve said that out loud to, you know. I’ve thought about it, dreamed about it, but it always feels both too big and too inconsequential to say out loud. Who knew all I needed was two glasses of merlot and a night with my potential roommate?”

“Potential roommate, huh?” I tease.

“If you want to move in, I’m down. I was sort of worried it would be weird, with our history and whatnot, but it isn’t. It almost feels like we stayed friends and never lost touch.” She takes another sip of wine.

Well, that makes one of us. Unless she means we stayed friends and I realized twelve years later that I still find her incredibly beautiful and can’t help but wonder if her lips were as soft as they once were—

Hunter Lillian Cleary. Stop lusting over your future roommate, you horndog.

At least my inner voice is able to keep me in check. Sort of.

“I’m in,” I blurt out, before I can overthink it.

Maybe this is one of those situations where I should overthink it.