15. PAUL

We each of us showered in the morning, me first and then him, getting ready in the dressing room while the other occupied the bathroom. But Jack showered quickly so that I wasn’t done dressing when he emerged, his dark hair glistening from the shower.

I turned to ask him how he had found it. His skin had a lovely, flushed pinkness from the water’s heat and force.

“It was great, man, thanks. Quite forceful.”

I finished dressing and went back into the bedroom to give him a bit of space to get ready for work.

Sitting on my bed, for a moment, I fantasized about the two of us being lovers. In this imagined scenario, we were not just two colleagues sharing an apartment; we were a couple, living our everyday life, and this was our home. I thought about these small domestic moments. I had never lived with anyone as part of a romantic couple, just roommates before I got my studio.

I envisioned us strolling hand in hand and people looking at us and going, “Oh, they are in love,” as I had with that cute couple in Washington Square. In this alternate reality, daily tasks like walking to work became moments of both deep meaning and small, private intimacy. Together, we might navigate the ebb and flow of city life and always return to our home, to talk, to share space, to make love.

“You good?” Jack asked as he came out of the bathroom.

I was sitting on the end of my bed, still dreaming. His voice shook me awake. I looked up at him. He was dressed in trousers and was buttoning up his shirt from the bottom, so I briefly saw his powerful chest.

“Huh?”

“To go into the office,” he said. He was smiling at me.

“Oh, yeah!” I cried, coming to my senses. “Yeah, of course…”

I watched him pulling on his suit jacket, a very sharp Italian dark grey wool crepe, over his pale yellow shirt. He added a dark tie, and honestly, he looked incredible, every inch a man.

I had often had these fantasies about men, but I had never acted on them. How could I even start to act on them there, then, in London?

***

First thing at the office, Jack casually called an all-staff meeting, standing on a chair in the center of the space, to say how well he thought things were going and how much he was enjoying meeting everyone one-on-one.

Afterward, he moved around the group, chatting to different groups and individuals. I couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly he navigated these encounters, his easy charm and its effect on everyone.

He was their boss – he did not pretend that he was not – but he was almost more like a paternal character, and people seemed to want to like and trust him. Sometimes he called me over to him so that I was standing with Jack as Laura and William, my self-appointed new friends, approached him.

“Morning, Jack! Looking dashing as ever, I see,” Laura said, her voice laced with playfulness.

“Someone said you remind them of Cary Grant,” William added with a grin.

“Are you even old enough to know who that is?” Jack teased.

William shrugged.

“I saw his picture on a TikTok thing.”

Jack laughed beautifully.

“Oh, my God, shut up, I am so old!”

They chatted happily for a couple of minutes about their work projects, and everyone seemed positive, in a good mood. Then Jack excused himself, and I was left with Laura and William. They repeated their offer to take me out, suggesting we do it in a few nights’ time. I very gratefully said yes. It was kind of them to offer.

Laura’s phone started ringing, and she departed to answer. William’s gaze, playfully direct, a little knowing, turned to me.

“What do you think of Jack?”

“He’s great,” I said honestly.

William’s eyes glowed with mischief.

“But what do you think of him?” He paused for a moment. “Are you attracted to him, Paul?”

His question sent a jolt of apprehension through me.

“What?”

His eyes glistened, and his lips flickered playfully into a grin.

“Are you interested in Jack?”

I felt a low sense of panic.

“It’s not like that.”

“Isn’t it?” he asked, keeping up the playful, knowing tone.

“I’m-I’m not gay.”

William looked surprised.

“Oh, aren’t you?”

I coughed, felt so awkward.

“Um, not…” Was I really going to say, “Not really”? “Um…” I murmured instead. Now William’s look turned more arch. He surprised me with a small, sympathetic smile.

“Oh, cool, whatever you say. I didn’t mean any offense.”

“Oh, God,” I said, “none taken, not at all. You’re not the first to assume…” Blushing, I felt weighed down by shame. The truth was too raw, too daunting just to casually announce in the office. “Where are we going to go out?” I asked to change the subject, and he began to list places where we could go.

Eventually, William moved away, back to work, and then a realization dawned on me. The facade I had worked so hard to maintain had had no effect. People did think I was gay. Even worse, they could guess my attraction to Jack.

And thinking that, a stranger, more dangerous thought hit me: so why the hell was I concealing anything?

What if I had been open about myself all along, like William appeared to be?