An excerpt from Irrestistible

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For my continuing promotion of Irresistible Month, I thought I’d share an exclusive excerpt from the book.

Launch month is going well by the way. The book has gradually accumulated reviews at Amazon and Goodreads, and while the tea leaves are always tough to read until I get my first royalty statement, the title seems to be staying pretty solid in its bestseller ranking at the Kindle store.

I chose a scene from early in the book, and it requires very little set-up. Here, the main character Cal is out with his best friend Derek the night after he met a very cute and friendly customer at the antiques shop where he works.

Irresisible

Copyright © 2018 by Andrew J. Peters

Later that evening, Callisthenes Panagopoulos met his roommate and best friend, Derek Foster, for a free, outdoor screening of the Mae West film I’m No Angel. The Bryant Park film festival of Hollywood classics was one item on a long list of things Cal had researched for them to do that summer. They only had twelve weeks in New York City, and Cal was determined to get as much out of the experience as possible. Derek had a seasonal job at a booth for discount theater tickets while Cal tended his uncle’s antiques shop. Their paychecks had to go almost entirely to the rent of their one-bedroom, sublet apartment, but Cal had found a treasure trove of free entertainment in the city.

The small urban park was overfilled with picnicking families and couples. Cal scanned through the crowd and spotted a spare spot centrally located for viewing. It looked like a tight fit, but when he led Derek across the lawn to claim it, some very nice ladies with shellacked helmets of hair and Broadway T-shirts looked up at Cal and quickly shrugged back their blanket to make space. A pair of older gentlemen stared at him dreamily and scooted back in their lawn chairs so Cal would have some room in their direction as well.

Cal unrolled a tatami mat from his college backpack, and he and Derek seated themselves hip to hip. Cal unpacked two fried egg sandwiches and a sixteen-ounce can of Budweiser, which he portioned into paper coffee cups liberated from a nearby deli. They chomped on their sandwiches as the opening credits blared from the giant screen.

Mae West had always been a campy curiosity to Cal, but he found his attention drifting away from the film. Was the guy he met in the store earlier that day for real? It felt like it had been a dream. He wasn’t supposed to be fishing for dates while he was working, but he hadn’t been able to stop himself. Brendan was gorgeous and smart and really sweet and considerate, and he knew about Arthur Rimbaud, and he’d minored in classical studies. He was a native New Yorker, which made him something like five thousand times more interesting and worldly than anyone Cal had met before. And like a total airhead, Cal had asked him if he did a lot of traveling, working in the shipping business, as if he freighted the goods across the Atlantic himself. Brendan probably had some high-powered executive job. Cal winced, thinking about how dumb he’d acted.

Meanwhile, his companion was having a hard time paying attention to the movie for different reasons.

“I know we’re homosexuals, but do we have to live out every gay cliché known to man this summer?” Derek said quietly.

Cal whispered back, “What do you mean?”

“Last night, it was the Jackie Onassis Hat and Apparel exhibit at the Fashion Institute of Technology. The day before was the Breakfast at Tiffany’s walking tour of Greenwich Village. Tonight, it’s Mae West?”

“You said you liked the walking tour.”

“I did. But I’m beginning to feel like I’m turning into Truman Capote.”

Cal guffawed. Derek looked nothing like Truman Capote. He was a slight guy with jet-black hair who looked like he worked at a tech company and skateboarded to work. Cal trapped his mouth with his hand, hoping his laughter hadn’t annoyed anyone nearby. The Midwestern housewives were timidly watching him like they’d spotted a celebrity. One of the older gentlemen leaned forward and asked Cal if he’d like one of his chocolate-dipped strawberries. Cal thanked him and declined. He gathered that side conversations at a reasonable volume were acceptable during the outdoor film.

“I’m glad you mentioned Truman Capote,” he told Derek. “It reminds me—Columbia has a free lecture this Friday on the art of writing the nonfiction crime novel.”

Derek gave Cal a lopsided grin. “You really can’t stop yourself, can you?”

“We have seventy-one days left until the end of the summer,” Cal said. “We’re budgeted at forty dollars a day, max, and that includes meals. I want to get in as much as possible.” At the end of the summer, Cal would be starting a master’s degree program in classical studies. Derek would go back to his odd jobs as a math tutor and working at the health insurance call center.

Derek’s shoulder leaned against his. “Don’t forget— I want to go to the beach.”

Cal grinned. He and Derek had been best friends since freshman year in college. In fact, Derek had been his only male friend for the past five years. With other guys, complications had always cropped up. They acted like they wanted to be friends, and then it turned out they wanted to jump Cal’s bones, which wasn’t bad in and of itself, with the right guy, or even the semi-right guy if Cal was in the mood. But it seemed like the only thing guys ever wanted was sex, and Cal had a knack for attracting the most intense and possessive types. That was why Derek was so great. They could hang out all the time and do regular things without any sexual tension and drama.

“There’s a beach on Coney Island,” he told Derek. “You can walk to it right from the subway. I looked it up. The subway fare’s only two seventy-five. The first sunny day both of us are off from work, we’ll go.”

Derek grinned and leaned into Cal some more. “Hey, what about going down to Little Italy tomorrow night?”

“Oh. I can’t.”

Derek gave him a double take. He was aware Cal closed up his grandfather’s shop by seven o’clock at the latest. They’d never made plans without the other. Neither of them even knew anyone else in New York. “You can’t?”

“I met someone.” Cal’s face bloomed. “We kind of have a date. Or, I think we have a date. Or, it could just be getting together as friends.”

“When did you meet someone?”

“This morning. At the store.”

“A customer?”

“Yeah.” It felt like sunshine was spreading over Cal. “His name is Brendan Thackeray-Prentiss.”

“Jesus. Did his family come over with the first gay pilgrims?”

Cal giggled. He evened out his enthusiasm. “He’s probably too perfect to be real. And it’s only going out for ice cream. I think he was just being friendly.”

Derek shot him a crooked glance.

“What’s that for?”

“Cal, you can be so oblivious when it comes to guys.”

“I don’t think I’m oblivious,” Cal objected. “It’s not a hookup. I didn’t get that impression at all. You think after everything that happened with Steve, I’d be giving out my phone number to random strangers?” He sat up straight, self-righteous. “I’ve actually been super conscious about not giving off any sexual vibes.”

Another crooked glance came back at him. “You’ve been super conscious about not giving off sexual vibes,” Derek repeated flatly. “Wearing a T-shirt that says ‘Want a lick?’”

“It’s ironic,” Cal said. “The whole T-shirt is meant to be ironic.”

“There’s nothing ironic about you, Cal. That’s the problem.” Derek dug his cell phone out and started tapping on the screen. His face twisted up skeptically in the blue light of the phone, and he turned the display screen to Cal. “That him?”

Brendan’s strong-jawed, handsome face sparkled in Cal’s vision. Cal took the phone so he could admire the photo more closely. Brendan was wearing a tuxedo for some society event. His wavy, dark brown hair was shorter and perfectly groomed. He stood in a ballroom filled with people who looked like they owned islands in the Caribbean. A modern-day prince.

“How did you find him so quickly?”

Derek took back his phone. “Brendan Thackeray-Prentiss is not exactly a common name.” He swiped and tapped at the screen. “And there’s, like, a zillion articles about him.” Derek read from one of them. “New York Magazine— Heir to Thackeray shipping magnate hosts fundraising gala for LGBTQ homeless teens.”

“Really? That’s so sweet.” Cal reached for the phone. Derek held him back as if Cal were a toddler trying to grab his lollipop.

“Stalk him on your own time,” Derek said.

Cal took his arm and nuzzled up close. “But I want to stalk him with you.”

“Don’t come purring up to me,” Derek scolded him mildly. “I turn my back for a half second, and you’ve got guys luring you into ice cream parlors to get down your pants.”

“Brendan’s not like that. He buys Victorian cameos for his grandmother. And he was really shy about his family being wealthy. It was cute.” Cal brushed his hand through his thick, wavy blond hair. “I don’t know. I’ve got this really great feeling about him.”

Derek took a long, stiff draw of his beer. “That’s great. So what’s going to happen? You two are going to run off and make genetically gifted babies, and I’m stuck hanging out in New York all summer by myself.”

“No,” Cal said. He squeezed Derek’s arm. “I’d never do that to you.”

“It’s cool, Cal. I mean, it’s not like I can expect a guy like you to stay single for the rest of his life. You walk down the street, and people are falling over each other to try to inhale the air you breathe.”

Cal gazed at Derek steadily. “That only happened once.” A smile crept up his face, which earned a mild chuckle from his friend. Cal nudged Derek on the shoulder. “We came down here to experience New York together. I’m not going to renege on that. Brendan and I have known each other for, like, five seconds. It’s nothing serious. You want me to text him and cancel for tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

Cal’s heart sank in his chest, but he rummaged in his pocket for his phone.

Derek caught him by the arm. “No. I was kidding.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m not going to be a total dick,” Derek said. “Hey, maybe I’ll do you one better and meet some billionaire to take me out for an actual dinner.”

“Thanks, Derek. Have I told you lately you’re the best friend in the world?”

“No, you haven’t.”

Cal kissed him on the cheek. “You’re the best friend in the world.”

“You still owe me the beach, you frickin’ ho.”

They scowled at each other, and then they tucked in to watch the rest of the black-and-white movie on the giant movie screen.

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