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Chapter Four

TYLER

Normally, I look forward to Thursday nights with my friends. They were my idea in the first place. Sorta. I’m not the most social person. Left to my own devices, I would go to work, come home, and plant myself in front of the television to play video games until I either need to sleep or go to work. Not exactly a healthy lifestyle.

Several years ago, I found myself doing exactly that. We’d all graduated from college and discovered that seeing friends on a regular basis took effort and planning. Friends I saw daily suddenly became people I texted a few times a week. At some point, I realized that I hadn’t spoken to anyone about non-work-related things in weeks. I might not be a social butterfly, but I needed more than that.

With a little push from my therapist, I demanded that we all make our little group a priority. Now, at the very least, Thursday nights are reserved for my closest friends. Secretly, I think they all needed it too. Which is why, years later, these nights are still sacred. Unless I’m nearly dead or out of town, I’m at The Flaming Unicorn. And so is the rest of the crew.

Tonight, I find myself wishing I could spend the evening wallowing on the couch instead. The whole week has been a giant mindfuck, thanks to Graham. He’s been on my mind since the moment I left his house. Somehow, our night together keeps playing on an endless loop inside my mind. It’s annoying.

And fucking hot.

And it’s freaking me out. Usually, with my hook-ups, once we both get off, I’m happy to say thank you and enjoy my escape. No need to stick around to see if we turn into something more. We won’t. Why wait around for confirmation?

But Graham won’t leave my mind or, apparently, my real life.

Maybe if our interaction ended with that goodbye kiss, I’d be able to let go. Sure, I’d be fantasizing about him in the shower for a few weeks, but then I could move on. But no, instead, Graham will be only a few yards away from me every week while I’m at Sprouting Joy. I’ll be able to look up from my spot in the garden and see his office window. The blinds will be closed—they always are—but still. I don’t think I’m strong enough to keep my mind from wandering to dirty daydreams.

My friends don’t need to know any of this. They would all have lots of advice—maybe even some good—but I have no desire to bear my soul tonight. I can easily keep them talking about work or the newest video game, but I’m afraid the constant thoughts of Graham combined with a few drinks will have me opening my big mouth. Which is why I promise to limit myself to one beer.

The Flaming Unicorn has been our go-to spot since we discovered it at the end of college. It’s a low-key gay bar that features local beers and pub food. They don’t do any of the wild nights that other places do, like karaoke or drag nights. Instead, they stick to providing an inclusive place where people can come, chat, and enjoy the evening.

Aaron and Nathan are already sitting in our favorite booth, bent over Aaron’s phone, watching a video. I give them a second and head to the table as they burst into laughter. “What’s so funny?” I know the general answer, but it gets them talking and skips that part where they ask me about my day.

“Some video on Instagram . It’s a stupid skit about an office job, but it’s close to how Nathan describes his coworkers.” Aaron’s the quietest of our group. He’s also whip-smart and a big softie. He’s bi but never complains about the fact that we spend all our going-out time at gay bars. I occasionally offer to be his wingman if he wants to go somewhere else, especially since he usually dates women, but he always turns me down. Probably for the best since I’d be terrible at it.

“Hey, it’s getting better,” Nathan responds defensively.

“Is it?” I ask. “Or is Colt forcing you to set some boundaries and finally take care of yourself?” Nathan slinks back into his seat. “That’s what I thought.” My best friend is a workaholic. Over the years, I’ve watched Nathan work himself into the ground for that position. I know it’s important work, but I worry about him. I’d never convinced him to take time off or cut back on his work. Apparently, all he needed was a sexy boyfriend to step in.

“Speaking of getting people to focus on things other than work.” Aaron turns in the booth to face me. “Have you gone out with that guy from speed dating again?” So much for my attempts at distraction.

I thought attending that event would buy me a few months out of the hot seat. The group chat had been thrilled when I said I met someone at the event. The going rate for spending the evening at a ridiculous bar talking to twelve different men for five minutes a piece had to be more than a week. And I went home with someone. I should get at least three months without having this same conversation.

“Nope. That was a one-time thing.”

“I thought you said he was nice,” Nathan says as he waves down the waitress walking past us.

“And hot.” Leave it to Aaron to bring up the important elements.

“He is nice. And hot.” I shrug. “It wasn’t meant to be.” No matter how much the universe might be trying to prove otherwise.

We order a few more drinks, ensuring we order for Matthias, who’s running a bit late, as usual.

“Okay, but how do you know it isn’t meant to be if you don’t give it more than one night?” Nathan asks. “I know you don’t see it going anywhere, but maybe give the guy more than five minutes to win you over.”

“Why are you so interested in my love life? Is Colt not satisfying you?” If distraction doesn’t work, maybe deflection will. They aren’t wrong. On paper, Graham’s a perfect fit, and I can’t deny that we have chemistry. But it takes more than that to make a long-term relationship work.

“Sorry.” Nathan holds his hands up in front of him. “I only want you to be happy. I would love to see you in a relationship instead of bouncing from hook up to hook up.” I know they all mean well. When Nathan was sitting here a few months ago pining over Colt, I gave him a whole lecture about getting off his ass and doing something to make the relationship work. Why shouldn’t he give me the same talk? “And, for the record, Colt keeps me very satisfied. Very.”

Ugh . The look that comes over Nathan’s face says he’s thinking about what Colt will do to him when he gets home.

“Sorry,” I mumble. “I’m being an asshole. I’m happy, though. I don’t want a relationship right now. I’m so close to finally getting that promotion at work, which means my free time is dedicated to ensuring this latest project goes smoothly.” Rumor around the office is that I’m stepping in as team lead on our next project as a trial run. I’ve been waiting for this opportunity for years; there’s no way I’m fucking it up. My office is full of folks who’ve been there since the start of the company. They have seniority in nearly every aspect, which means getting any sort of bump is difficult. I’ve been begging for my chance at every opportunity, and next week, I’m finally getting it.

Matthias rushes in and drops into the last seat. Thankfully, he comes in with a crazy story about one of his clients that changes the topic and keeps everyone engaged for the rest of the evening. Our clients can be controlling and weird, but the ones who come to his family’s financial management firm are truly next level.

True to my promise, I stop after a single beer. My lips are sealed as far as Graham goes. That goes for both talking about him to my friends and any partaking in any future blow jobs.

* * *

GRAHAM

I pace back and forth across my living room a few times, trying to figure out how I want to handle the situation with Tyler. Honestly? I’ve got nothing. I’ve written and deleted more text messages to him over the last few hours than I care to admit. Nothing sounds quite right. Which is also why I’m nursing my second glass of merlot.

It’s not like I’ve been in this situation before. There’s no simple way to say, I would like to see you again, but things are a little complicated .

As a last-ditch effort, I open my contacts and click on my sister Charlotte’s name. It only rings once before she answers. “Hey! How’s my favorite brother?”

“I thought Dan was your favorite brother?”

“He’s being a bit of an ass this week, so you’ve been bumped up. Congratulations!” I hear rustling in the background and a quiet command to one of her kids.

“Well, hopefully, this won’t push me down the list.” I love having physical distance between me and my family, but in moments like this, I miss being able to stop by and have the comfort of in-person support. It’s stupid, but we were tight-knit growing up. As the baby of the family, my siblings always protected me—sometimes a little too much. It didn’t help that I didn’t have a real growth spurt until high school or that I was gay. Teens could be cruel to anyone who didn’t fit the mold. I never got seriously bullied, but that’s because the two of them made sure people didn’t mess with me. Even once they were out of the house, they had friends checking up on me. At the time, it was annoying. In retrospect, I can see how fiercely they cared.

“Uh-oh. Tell me, what’s up?”

I give her a rundown of the situation, skipping over some of the more intimate details. We’re close, but not that close.

“Wow, you really know how to pick ‘em, don’t you?”

“I knew I should’ve called Dan instead.” We both know that’s a joke. Dan is smart when it comes to numbers and computers. Relationships? Not so much. Thankfully, his wife keeps him in line and puts up with his shit.

“Don’t do that. I’m being a smartass. Have you talked to Tyler about it?”

I groan. “I keep trying to text him, but I can’t find the right words.” Or any words.

“Well, that’s a big part of your problem right there. You need to talk to him. Not text him. This is the kind of thing that requires a real conversation. Preferably face-to-face.” Maybe I should have called Dan instead. The best advice she has is talk to him ? “What’s with you kids these days and refusing to actually speak to each other?”

I roll my eyes and thank God she can’t see me. She’s obviously right. So far, we haven’t managed to do much besides introduce ourselves and get off. A full conversation seems like a lot to ask.

“Fine. Any good suggestions on how to start that conversation?”

“Hi, I really enjoyed having your dick in my ass, but now I feel like you’re being a dick to me?”

I choke on a sip of wine. “Jesus, Charlotte. When did you start using that language?” I’m not on board with her picturing me in sexual situations. My siblings get into my business way too often, but I’d worked hard to make sure they didn’t get any salacious details. A few of my exes hadn’t been quite so dedicated to privacy. Okay, so mostly Jeremy. He thought bragging about our private life at the table was a good time. Even when I begged him not to, a few drinks and a little prodding from my siblings got him to open up.

Family, am I right?

“Around the time you were in diapers. Remember, I’m quite a bit senior to you.” No one ever lets me forget that I’m the baby in the family. I swear they all still picture me as a teenager getting sent to detention after school. Charlotte might be the oldest, but she does her best to treat me like an adult. It’s probably because there are nearly sixteen years between the two of us. By the time I was a toddler, she was off at college and only saw me on weekends and holidays.

“Is senior your way of saying that you’re old?”

“You’re right. Dan’s my favorite.”

“I love you, too.”

“Let me know how it goes, okay? I know you just got out there, and you aren’t sure if you’re staying in Cardinal Falls, but I really would like to see you find someone. We all would.” Charlotte’s voice gets soft.

“I know. Mom and Dad bring it up every chance they get.” It’s not like I’m wasting away waiting for someone to scoop me up. Would I like to find someone to spend my life with? Of course. But it needs to be the right person, and after going through a whole bunch of the wrong people, I’m in no hurry.

“Not like that. I know they push since you’re the last single one. You’ve always wanted to settle down, yet somehow you only date assholes.”

“They weren’t all assholes.”

“They were, but that’s not the point.” Charlotte snorts. I’m sure she’s picturing Jeremy in her head. It’s hard to argue with that assessment. He took the cake in terms of bad behavior. “I want you to be happy, baby bro.”

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks, big sis.”

“Anytime. Text me an update after you talk to him, okay?”

I agree and hang up the phone. Talk to Tyler. In person. Seems easy enough, but the question is whether I can manage to get him in the same room without him darting away. I can’t say he looked thrilled to see me at Sprouting Joy, though that’s my fault for panicking and pretending not to know him. Talking with a big helping of groveling. After that? Maybe a second date.