Page 28 of From Beijing, With Love

Mrs. Wang was a hands-on photographer. She positioned the two of them next to each other in front of the gray brick facade of the restaurant, sandwiched between two porcelain planters. Their arms were pressed together like two kids being posed by their parents. Daniel considered striking a silly pose to diffuse the awkwardness, then worried about looking stupid, so he simply draped his arm around Yang’s shoulder. He felt Yang’s body tense for a second before leaning in.

“If you are looking to make your ex jealous, then a photo with me is not your best bet. Careful—” Yang said as Mrs. Wang walked backward into someone, the camera still aimed at them.

“I’m over making him jealous,” Daniel said with a shrug, then realized he actually meant it. After what Taylor had done, there wasn’t a chance in hell they’d ever get back together.

“Him?” Yang asked, turning his head to face Daniel.

“Uh …” Daniel froze in place, his arm still draped over Yang’s shoulders. Even though he was more than comfortable with who he was, being in a foreign country—one with a reputation to be conservative—made him more cautious. And besides, it really wasn’t anyone’s business. Straight people didn’t move about the world declaring their sexual orientation everywhere they went.

He tried to think fast, but his brain was in a post-binge-eating coma, and he’d had more than a few beers, so what came out of his mouth was “It’s a he. I … uh … like men.”

Yang’s brows scrunched together like Daniel had made a mistake. “But Taylor is a girl’s name. Like Taylor Swift.”

It took Daniel a moment to remember he’d shown Taylor’s text to Yang the other night on the pedestrian bridge. “Well, yes, there’s Taylor Swift, love her, but there’s also, like …” Daniel racked his brain to think of a male celebrity named Taylor but came up empty. “You just have to trust me that Taylors can also have dicks.”

Had he just said dicks? There needed to be one hundred percent fewer mentions of genitalia right then.

“That’s … great. Good for you. Congratulations.” Yang turned away, his cheeks rosy.

Daniel smiled at Yang’s straight-guy awkwardness. As far as reactions went, this wasn’t all that bad. Yes, it was good for Daniel. And yes, he should be congratulated.

After they bid farewell to Mrs. Wang, they strolled down Flower Street, which seemed at least eighty percent more magical after dark thanks to the glowing lanterns that dotted the narrow street.

“I would have never found this place without you,” Daniel said, not adding the fact that if it weren’t for Yang, he’d be having another room service dinner.

“And to think you almost backed out of this tour,” Yang said with a smirk.

“Did not,” Daniel said, distracted by the bustling food stalls around them. He wasn’t going to eat from them, but it didn’t stop his mouth from watering.

“I think your default answer to everything is no, but you make yourself say yes because you are worried about other people.” Yang gave him a gentle smile and a look that lingered a second too long. “As much as it’s to my benefit, don’t agree to things just to make other people happy.”

“You sound like my therapist,” Daniel said with a laugh. If he did the laughing, then he was in on the joke instead of being the joke. “I mean, you’re not wrong. I’m not great with new places and new things. Maybe I should have never come on this trip. I’m definitely not pulling off this whole spontaneous thing.”

Can you just be spontaneous for once? Taylor’s words rang in his ears.

“A good horse doesn’t graze on old grass.”

“What?” Was it bad that Yang was comparing him to a horse?

“It’s an old Chinese idiom about not dwelling on the past and only looking to the future,” Yang explained. “Don’t ask me why so many of these idioms have to do with animals. The idea is to forget about whether you should or shouldn’t have come to China. You are here now, so—”

“Be a good horse.” Daniel finished Yang’s sentence.

“Exactly.” Yang laughed.

All Daniel could think about right then (besides those damn dimples) was that he was going to miss that laugh, that grumpy face, and all the places like this street that he wouldn’t have found on his own, even with all the research in the world. This was the real Beijing—his dad’s city. This impulsive trip to China was propelled by his need to run away from his disastrous life coupled with the pull he had long felt for his dad’s country, but being here on Flower Street with Yang made him want more. He wanted to see more, experience more in a way only a local could—not to prove anyone wrong, but for himself.

“Okay, crazy idea,” Daniel said, his heart thumping against his rib cage. “Poppy doesn’t come back until Sunday, and I want to see more of Beijing.”

“There are other tours. You can look on the tour company’s website.”

“No, I meant …” Daniel wasn’t going to do this, was he? He was. He so was. “I want to see more of Beijing with you. Only you. I’ll pay you, of course.”

“I …” Yang hesitated.

“Sorry, it’s stupid. You’re busy with your paper and all that important PhD stuff,” Daniel said, giving Yang the excuse he was probably looking for.

“Actually, there’s nothing for me to do until I hear back from my adviser about the paper, and I technically have the rest of the summer off. So …” Yang paused. “Why not.”