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I'd already gone through that process. And until Vince was
ready to do that, it didn't matter how many guys' kisses he enjoyed;
his self-definition as an insatiable ladies' man would remain unsullied
as long as he needed it to. No matter what the truth might be.
But beyond all of that, I simply wasn't interested in Vince's
confusion. Whatever he did with his life from now on, I wanted no
part in it. The movies were more than enough Vincent Valentino
for me, if I even got around to seeing them. I'd already seen the
real thing and the spark he communicated through the silver
screen was depressingly absent in reality.
Maybe Hollywood magic couldn't survive off the silver
screen. But honestly, I was missing the magic non-Hollywood
as it was of Ethan's soft smile much more than I'd ever missed
a musically-prompted Happily Ever After from the theater.
Smiling, I pulled out my phone and clicked the first
number on the recently-dialed list. "Hey, love," I greeted as
Ethan picked up the phone, "you about done with work?"
"Just cleaning up," Ethan answered, and I could hear the
curiosity thrumming under the affected unconcern in his voice.
"Want me to pick you up somewhere?"
"That'd be wonderful. I'm downtown," I added, glancing
around for street signs. "I love you, Eth."
"Love you too," Ethan echoed, confused. "How was your
date? Did something& "
"That entire date isn't even worth talking about," I
dismissed, shaking my head. "But did I happen to hear
18
something about a bubble bath in my future?"
Ethan was quiet for a moment, but when he answered, I
could hear the grin in his voice. "You certainly did." He didn't pry
again about the date, and with a smile, I discarded it mentally:
experiment failed. My happily-ever-after came with bubble-
coated glasses discarded on bathroom tiles, new silk boxers
ruined by disregarded Dry Clean Only tags, and a twining
undertone of cigarette smoke, infuriating and irremovable and
home, and if Hollywood was more interested in Harley
Davidsons and chain-laced leather, it could keep them. "And that
massage, of course."
"And you, in nothing but bubbles. Why aren't you here yet?"
"Because you haven't told me where here is, babe," Ethan
chuckled. "Where can I get you?" In the background of the
phone, I could hear his car start up, coughing like always but
finally turning over grumpily.
"Anywhere," I grinned, finally finding the street signs. Ethan's
voice was scratchy, distorted by the speakerphone, and beautiful,
and as he drove, I watched the traffic absently. My eye caught on a
shiny black limo turning away from me, toward the freeway
entrance. I watched Vincent Valentino go, feeling a sense of
satisfaction wash over me. Good luck to him and good riddance.
A few days later, I located my Allowed-To-Kiss list, and,
stealing Ethan's lighter for a few minutes, I turned it into flakes of
fluttering ash.
I didn't need castles and movie stars. I was perfectly happy
with Ethan's hedgehog hair, sexy glasses, and easy smile, thank
you very much. My happily-ever-after didn't require Hollywood.
* * * *
When Vincent Valentino announced his bisexuality six months
later, Ethan glanced at me over the newspaper article, raising an
eyebrow. "You didn't have anything to do with this, did you?"
THE END
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ABOUT JENNIFER CIERRA
Jennifer Cierra is an author of gay fiction and erotica
based in Southern California. She discovered slash fiction at the
age of thirteen and was ruined from then on. She is most
susceptible to bribes of chocolate, coffee, and good books. To
learn more, please visit jennifercierra.weebly.com.
ABOUT JMS BOOKS LLC
JMS Books LLC is a small electronic press specializing in
gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender fiction (including erotica,
romance, and young adult), as well as popular and literary
fiction, nonfiction, and poetry. While our preference is for GLBT
stories, we accept stories containing any and all sexualities, as
well as general fiction without a romantic subplot. Visit our site at
jms-books.com for our latest releases and submission guidelines!
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