Page 2

CHAPTER TWO

Emory

I wiggled my pen, drawing a curvy set of lines. On my napkin, a cloudy explosion formed over a man’s head.

Kaboom.

A mic squealed with feedback at the front of the room, making everyone at my table cringe. Dad craned his neck toward the stack of hay bales serving as a stage. Fairy lights wound around beams above our heads, and lanterns cast each table in a soft glow, transforming an old barn into a swanky banquet.

“Sorry,” Teddy Prince said as he fiddled with the mic’s volume. “I just want to thank you all for coming out tonight to support my run for mayor. Again .” He paused for the polite laughter. “This town has my heart, as do all of you. My lovely wife, Jennifer, and my daughter, Allison.” He lifted his glass. “And a big thank-you to my co-hosts, the Golds, who are like family to me, and heck, maybe one day, they really will be.”

He winked suggestively, and everyone looked at us. Looked at me. My smile froze, and I fought valiantly to keep it from twisting into a grimace.

Ever since Allison returned from her big-city job in Boston, disillusioned by her corporate experience, everyone had been waiting for me to drop to one knee.

Wasn’t going to happen. Not with Allison. We’d dated in high school, and even then, the spark was missing.

The mayor continued his speech, garnering polite applause.

“And now, I’m sure you’ve had enough of my prattle. Let’s start the music. Enjoy the open bar, folks. Dance and have a good time.”

An upbeat Luke Bryan song piped through the speakers overhead, and a few married couples took to the floor, including Allison’s parents.

Grandpa leaned over to peek at my napkin art. I tilted it toward him for a better view.

He snickered.

“Emory,” my mother said with a head shake. “I wish you wouldn’t doodle like a middle schooler.”

“You should network,” Dad said. “Every event is an opportunity for connection, and connection is?—”

“Community business,” I said with him.

Dad had pounded that one into me from a young age. Gold Community Bank wasn’t only a business; it was your friend, your neighbor, your generous uncle, if you will—though with interest rates attached.

“Allison looks so pretty tonight,” Mom gushed. “She is going to make such a lovely bride someday.”

Mom looked at me expectantly.

“Mm.” I nodded, avoiding eye contact. I knew where this was going. Same place it had been going for the last six weeks.

“You should ask her to dance,” Mom pressed. “She’s alone over there.”

“She won’t be alone for long,” I mumbled.

Allison was beautiful in that good Midwestern girl way. Her hair was a honey blonde, her skin a pale ivory but with a rosy glow from days spent in the sunshine, and her smile wide and warm.

She was a great friend, but there was no attraction there. Maybe because we grew up as neighbor kids playing in the dirt. Once you knew a girl’s favorite mud pie recipe, the romance was gone.

We ran all over together, exploring the neighborhood. She was even there when?—

I cut off the train of thought, pressing my lips tight.

Point was, we might look perfect on paper, but we were all wrong together. Too bad half the town disagreed.

“You should ask now before she gets other offers,” Mom said pointedly.

“We only miss the opportunities we don’t make,” Dad added.

My stomach twisted. They’d never stop dropping hints if I didn’t go, would they?

With a sigh, I got up. Caving. But really, what harm would it do to make them happy?

Other than fuel more gossip that Allison and I were destined for the altar.

Mom gave an excited little wiggle. “Good luck!”

“But you won’t need it,” Dad added.

“You should leave the poor boy alone,” Grandpa said as I pushed my chair in. “There’s plenty of time to figure out his life. Why are people always in such a rush?”

I squeezed his shoulder in thanks before crossing the barn floor. Allison was holding court by the table covered in barbecue, corn on the cob, mashed potatoes, coleslaw, and half a dozen pies.

It was a generous spread—and paid for by my family. We had to keep up appearances as the town bankers. Sometimes I hated that we were so prominent. It made it difficult to fade into the background like I’d prefer.

Jimmy Reed stepped into my path. “Hey, Emory! Beautiful night, hey?”

“Yep.”

“Any word on that loan for my microbrewery?”

“Uh, no. Not yet.”

“Bootlegging is part of our history here. It’s going to take off like fire , man. You don’t want to turn?—”

“My dad is actually reviewing that one,” I cut in before I got the full pitch again. “But good luck, man. Sounds awesome.”

I dodged Elaine Kemp, who always had a dozen stories to share about her little dog, Hushpuppy, and bumped into two high school girls who broke out in giggles.

“Sorry!” I sidestepped them, ignoring their invitation to dance, and found myself in front of the bar.

Perfect. I could use a drink before the spotlight was on me and Allison yet again.

I slumped against the bar, and the bartender smirked. “You okay there?”

I blew out a breath. “Yeah, great. Just trying to survive in a small town.”

He chuckled. “Oh, are the natives getting restless?”

“Are they ever not?”

He grinned. “Good point. What’s your poison?”

“Gin and tonic.”

“Coming right up.”

I braced my forearms on the bar and relaxed as he got to work. He was a good-looking guy with buzzed dark hair and sharp cheekbones, but a playful smile softened his stark features.

He set the gin and tonic in front of me, his long fingers wrapped around the glass, and I had to suppress a shiver. What would those fingers feel like wrapped around something else? Maybe my?—

I cut the thought short, but he must have noticed my lingering gaze because his smile turned up a notch.

“Enjoy.”

“I will,” I murmured, holding his gaze as I lifted the glass to take a sip. I didn’t know what the hell had gotten into me. I didn’t flirt with men. I liked women well enough that my fleeting interest in the occasional guy was easy to dismiss.

A man stepped up to the bar beside me. “Christ, I hate this shit. Fucking spoiled little—” He cut off abruptly. “Mr. Gold. Good evening.”

Holden was one of the foster kids who’d taken over the run-down auto shop on the edge of town.

I raised an eyebrow. “Having fun?”

He tugged at his shirt cuff, revealing a hint of ink on his wrist. “It’s a great event,” he said blandly.

Yeah, he looked like he wanted to be here about as much as I did. Only difference was, this was my world. Not Holden’s. He was stirring up nearly as much gossip as my pending nuptials with Allison.

Good. I finished off my drink and went to do my duty.

Allison rolled her eyes as soon as I approached her table. “Let me guess. Your parents sent you over here?”

I smiled gamely and held out my hand. “A gentleman never tells.”

She snorted indelicately as she let me draw her toward the dance floor. “I should save everyone a lot of trouble and refuse to dance with you.”

“And ruin my reputation?” I said. “Harsh.”

She slid her arms around my neck. “I’d be doing you a favor.”

“Maybe.” I bit my lip, torn between begging her to shut down everyone’s expectations and reluctance to disappoint them all—especially my parents. They’d lost so much. I just wanted to make them happy. “Maybe we should just date again?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “You had more chemistry with the bartender.”

My steps faltered. “Was it that obvious?”

“To other people, no. To your best girl, Allison? Like a blazing neon sign.”

“Shit.”

“It’s not a bad thing, Emory. Aren’t you tired of suppressing one side of yourself?”

I regretted ever telling her about my fleeting urges because now she could call me on my shit.

“You’re just wishing you were dancing with Matteo right now,” I teased.

Allison had rekindled an affair with a dreamy Italian guy she fell for the summer after high school graduation. She’d gone to college, and by the time she graduated, he’d gone to the big house for getting caught up in a robbery with his cousins. He was the driver and claimed he didn’t know what they were up to, but he’d still done prison time.

The mayor’s daughter with an ex-con, though? It’d be a major scandal. Allison’s dad was up for re-election, so it was the worst possible timing.

“Matti would hate it here even more than you,” Allison said with a shrug.

“Fair.”

“Besides, once the election is over, I’ll tell my parents the truth. Matteo makes me happy, and I’m not giving that up. Don’t you want to figure out what would make you happy, Emory?”

“I’m happy.”

“No, your family is happy. I’m talking about you. ” She glanced over my shoulder. “Maybe ask the bartender for his number. You need to figure out what you really want before you’re in a marriage with someone you don’t even love.”

“It won’t go that far,” I said uneasily.

“I hope not, babe. Because you twist yourself into a pretzel to make everyone happy, but somehow, that never includes you.”

She pressed a kiss on my cheek to soften the blow, then stepped back as the song came to an end. I walked her back to her table, stomach churning with the knowledge she was right.

I was a people pleaser—but considering it was my fault my brother died when we were kids, I owed it to my parents to make them happy, didn’t I?

Adam wasn’t here anymore. I was their only son, and that meant I had to be twice as good.

I escaped out a side door for some air. Allison’s words had gotten to me. I’d eventually settle down and get married. Not to Allison, but to someone.

Did I really want to walk down the aisle with this burning curiosity inside, this question that was only growing more persistent with time: What would it be like with a man?

I slipped my phone out of my pocket and stared at the Thrust app I’d installed last week. I’d made a profile, careful to obscure any details that would identify me, but I hadn’t had the courage to talk to anyone.

I glanced around, but the only other person out here was Dallas. He was a couple of years older than me, but everyone knew him because he’d been the go-to guy for beer or drugs when we were teens.

Everyone said he could get away with anything because his dad was the sheriff.

Dallas was smoking and texting on his phone, paying me no mind, so I clicked on the app and immediately got two matches. My phone gave a tinkling chime for each one.

I hesitantly accepted them, then nearly had a heart attack when I saw that one was only twenty feet away from me.

I jerked my head up to see Dallas staring at me.

“Well, well, well…” He sauntered toward me, a lit cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth. “Emory Gold, you naughty boy.”

“What?” I closed out of the app, but the damage was done.

His lips curled up at the edges. “Don’t be coy now. You’re on Thrust. I recognize the sound it plays.”

I shook my head. “No, I…”

He tapped a finger against my lips. “Shh. It’s okay. Because you and me? We’re the same.”

My eyebrows shot up. “You mean…?”

He nodded his head to the side. “Let’s take a ride. We can talk about it.”

I hesitated, but hell, I’d gotten on the app to figure out my attraction to men, and here was Dallas offering me answers. “I, uh, can’t be gone long.”

“No worries, sweet thing. I’ll have Cinderella back to the ball before midnight.”

“Okay.”

I followed him to his car and slid into the leather bucket seat while he started the engine. I drummed my fingers nervously on my thigh until he reached over and put his hand over mine.

“Relax. No one has to know about this. I’ve been fucking dudes on the down-low for years.”

He laughed, but it didn’t strike me as funny.

“That must be hard.”

“Not really. I get ass whenever I want it. All I gotta do is pick up the phone.” He glanced sidelong at me, a smirk curling his lips. “Of course, not every piece of ass is as hot as yours.”

“Uh, thanks, I guess.” I shifted uncomfortably. “So, uh, you’re not nervous about meeting up with strange men? What if someone outs you or something?”

“Nah, we all have something to lose.” He turned onto the highway. “We’re just looking to get off. No need for it to be complicated.”

“It feels complicated.”

“That’s because you’re a sweet little virgin,” he said, slipping his hand an inch up my thigh and squeezing.

“I’m not a virgin,” I protested.

“You are in the ways it matters,” he said with a grin. “But not for long.”

He slowed the car and pulled onto the side of the road. We’d left the party behind, but we were still outside of town, nothing but blacktop and cornfields to be seen for a few miles.

“Look, Dallas…”

He moved fast, hooking his right hand around my neck and dragging me toward him.

I resisted. “Wait.”

“Don’t play games,” he said. “You know why you’re here.”

I jerked back, fumbling for my seat belt, as his lips landed on my neck and his hand tugged at my belt. His tongue slipped over my skin, and instead of turning me on, it made me flinch away.

This wasn’t what I wanted. I’d been curious. I’d wanted to figure out what it meant. But this was too fast, too soon, too…uncomfortable .

Maybe I wasn’t bisexual at all. Maybe I’d just been confused.

Because everything in me wanted the fuck away.

I grabbed the door handle behind me, yanked it, and practically fell out of the car.

“What is your problem?” Dallas bellowed as he scrambled out of his side, rounding the front bumper with a look of fury in his eyes. “You matched me on the app, asshole. You wanted dick, so stop acting like a scared straight boy!”

Oh, shit. What had I gotten myself into?