Page 6 of Axes and Ohs

“Yeah. So I, um… pretended I had diarrhea and ran out of the room,” I mutter.

“Thanks to your impulsive erection?” Carlos laughs.

I find myself laughing too, though at the time, the situation had been beyond mortifying. But hearing Carlos say the word erection means that my dick is suddenly all I can think about.

“I still see that photographer at my mother’s Christmas parties,” I say plaintively, “and every year, he asks me how my stomach is.”

Carlos howls. Like, hand-on-my-knee, is-he-even-taking-in-oxygen? laughter. When he’s finally done, I’m halfway through my drink and I’ve eaten most of his cornbread, which I decide is appropriate punishment.

“Anyway,” I say pointedly, “I think we can both see that I’ve won, so I don’t need to belabor the point⁠—”

“I think…” he begins softly. His hand tightens on my knee almost convulsively. “I think I can still top that.”

“I’d like to see you try,” I scoff.

Carlos downs the rest of his beer like he needs the courage. “I, ah… I think I might have… impulsively found myself attracted to a guy today.”

I suck in a breath, and then my whole body locks down.

Is he talking about me? He must be, right?

Seriously, if my friends could see me now, they’d die. I’m acting like a preteen. Like a guy who doesn’t know what his dick is for.

Of course he’s talking about you, Erick. But what do I want to do about it?

“Oh. Wow. Okay. And, um, how do you feel about that?” I ask in a strangled voice.

“You say oh a lot, you know that?” He bites his lip, and the move is so sexy it makes me shiver. “I like it. A lot. It’s like you’re always surprised. Makes me want to see how many times I can make you say it.”

My face goes pink. “I… I… Oh.”

“There we go.” Carlos grins, then turns more serious. “It’s… it’s not like I’ve never noticed guys were hot. It’s just… they’re guys. I work with them, I hang out with them, they’re not… people I want to kiss. You know?”

I nod, then shake my head. “I mean, if a guy is hot and fun to hang with, I probably would want to kiss him, I think?”

“Yeah, well…” Carlos takes a deep breath, and his cheeks flush darker this time. “I thought about kissing you.”

His throat moves in a convulsive gulp, and… god, are these drinks really strong, or did he just make that gulping sound sexy?

“And that’s partly because you’re hot, of course,” he says, like he’s reasoning out his attraction in real time. “But it’s also because… I don’t know. I really liked the way you stood up to your dad today. The way you seemed ready to change your whole life to do something that matters to you. The way you sounded really smart and chill while you were doing it. Maybe you were being impulsive, but I think you were brave and… and inspiring, acting on this desire you’ve felt for a while. Making shit happen. I couldn’t look away from you the whole time. I just wanted to… to cheer for you, and also stand in front of you and tell your dad to shut up and let you talk. It was just… cool,” he finishes, spreading his hands in a what can you do gesture.

Now I gulp, and I’m confident it does not sound sexy. More like I’m gulping for air since suddenly I don’t have any.

Many people think I’m good-looking. But the way Carlos is talking so earnestly and haltingly about how he sees something more in me? About how he was feeling inspired by me? It’s like he’s unlocked a secret compartment in my brain that’s been craving that kind of validation for a long-ass time.

Even validation from a perfect stranger, I guess. Or hell, maybe because he’s a perfect stranger. One who happened to find me at my lowest point, so there’s no chance he wants to trade on my name or use me for anything. No chance he doesn’t mean… well, exactly what he says.

“Oh. That’s… that’s… thank you,” I choke out.

He smiles, like he thinks it’s funny that he’s transferred all his nerves to me. “So tell me,” he says softly, “what’s the next impulsive thing you want to do?”

Carlos has just given me the perfect opening to say something flirtatious—or, fuck, to lean in and kiss the shit out of him—but I’m flailing internally like that GIF of Kermit with his arms in the air. This feels… important, somehow. Like a chance to let someone know the real me. And I have tragically lost the ability to simply flirt.

So what comes out of my mouth is something as honest and earnest as Carlos.

“I… I’m going to be a preschool teacher,” I blurt. “For real. I want to teach. Which means I need to find an apartment I can afford since my dad will cut me off. And I… I want to date someone who knows and likes me.” I press a hand to my chest. “Not just someone who likes the same restaurants and activities I do. And I… maybe I’d like to learn a foreign language or bake sourdough or… I don’t know exactly. I want to find something I’m passionate about. I want to be more than… well, more than I am right now.”

Carlos stares at me for a second like he’s as stunned as I am by what I’ve said.