Gay.
I could totally do this. I had to get the hell over myself.
Maybe.
Possibly.
I sighed. I still had no idea if I could do this—accept this openness, something I’d spent pretty much my whole life ignoring—but being honest with myself, I was getting tired of my bullshit. Tired of my inner monologues. Tired of not stepping the fuck up and owning my sexuality once and for all.
But….
Yes, there was always a but, but this time, I clamped my jaw tight and stared at my face. I looked tense as all hell. It therefore made sense that a few beers would help. Getting out of my own company would help, surely to God it would.
Glancing away, I headed toward the front door, grabbing my wallet and keys on the way. Tonight I would stop the pity party and actually leave the damn house. As I stepped outside and pulled the door closed, I gave myself a moment to feel some of the tension disperse. Inhaling deeply, I savored the fresh air, the coolness in my lungs. This was good. I could do this. Even more, I was proud of myself for doing this alone. It would have been too easy to rely on Carter, my tentative friend who had implanted himself into my life. I could do this by myself. Pride felt a little alien as it settled in my head and on my chest. It was a strange sensation, and it had been a long time since I could honestly remember a time I felt honest-to-God proud of myself. Deception and self-loathing, plus a family who took every opportunity to drag me down and remind me I wasn’t good enough, could do that to a guy.
With an exhale, I forced myself to smile, still staring at the door. Shit, damn tears filled my eyes. I blinked them away and swallowed the sentiment, hysterical emotion and laughter bubbling in my chest and making their way to my throat. It sprung free, a deep laugh, the action making the smile on my lips genuine. Shit, I was losing it. But still, I grinned and allowed myself the moment to feel lighter. I considered accepting the tears, knowing that, while spiked with fear, they were also coated with unfamiliar happiness and relief.
My lips still fixed with a smirk, I breathed out and closed my eyes before taking another breath. I had no idea what I was doing, where I was going (other than a local bar), and definitely no idea what tomorrow held, let alone the long-term future held, but still, I smiled.
I turned and headed down the street to the town center, the smile now lazily lifting my lips. As I walked past Carter’s, I didn’t hesitate or pause. He had become something of my safe haven. He knew who I was. Admittedly, while he didn’t know my past, my history, he’d still given me the courage I needed to step out. I wouldn’t falter and detour. Instead, I continued on.
Once at the Oak, I stepped in right away, forcing myself not to hesitate. While my heart rate picked up and my palms sweated just a little more than comfortable, I didn’t experience the panic I’d half expected. In reality, I knew someone wasn’t going to step out and call me a fag, wasn’t going to reach out to my family and start gossiping and causing shit. A little voice in my head then pulled me short, almost making me stumble. And so what if they do? Does it really matter?
Weren’t those a loaded couple of questions? Should I give a shit if people in this town knew I’d come out? Should I give a shit if my parents were told? Fuck, my dad already knew. It didn’t matter how many times his leather belt had struck my skin. He was a prick to think he could beat it out of me.
I stood at the bar, eyes focused ahead and then skimming the length of the room. The bartender moved toward me.
“What’ll it be?”
I glanced at the draft beers before making my selection. “Pale ale please.”
“You got it.” The guy nodded, grabbed a glass, and poured my drink.
I took the time to glance around the bar. I was out of my comfort zone. Majorly. I’d never done this, never needed to before. Back home, at college, and in the couple of other places I’d lived, I’d always had the safety of friends or colleagues. Yeah, I’d arrived at places ahead of time before so had ordered and started drinking by myself, but always with the knowledge I was waiting for someone.
The knowledge terrified me as well as shot a blast of courage through my veins. I was a grown-ass man. I could drink by myself. I could make small talk with locals if I wanted to. I felt kinda liberated by the idea as I paid for my drink and took a seat near the end of the bar. Tempted to pull my phone out and mess about with it rather than be so clearly alone, I tugged it out of my back pocket and instead, switched it off. As I did so, the bartender was back, this time putting a bowl of nuts in front of me.
“You’re the vet, right?”
I glanced up, startled, my gaze landing on the guy’s face. He was older than me by about ten years or so if I had to guess. He had deep brown eyes that were friendly. As I registered his words, I latched on to there being no accusation in his question. In a small town like this, it was always a possibility the rumor mill had started and venom could have spread.
“That’s right.” I nodded.
He smiled, and I mimicked the gesture. “Ted.” He stuck out his hand. I took it with the barest of hesitation.
“Scott,” I answered. “This your place?”
“Yeah, for better or worse.” Ted rolled his eyes, though his small smile remained.
I glanced around the space. It was nicely decorated. It looked high-end and contemporary, with an edge of country charm. I’d heard the place had been purchased recently by out of towners, but since I was no longer in the position to be privy to gossip, I was out of the loop. “It’s a nice place. You just moved here, right?”
He bobbed his head. “Yes, is it that obvious?” He laughed. He narrowed his eyes at me. “But saying that, you don’t quite have the twang of the locals either.” Ted picked up a cloth and wiped the side, eyes still on me.
“You got me.” I took a small drink. “I haven’t been in town for that long either, and I’m not sure I’m staying.” I slammed my mouth closed. With no idea why I’d shared so much, I took another mouthful. I didn’t want to give any locals anything to talk about at all when it came to me. “What about you?” I changed the subject. “Better or worse?”
He studied me for a beat but laughed. It was deeper than I expected. He was only five-ten, maybe, and had a slim frame and features. I expected something lighter, but still, his laugh was kind and put me at ease. “This place came as part of the package with the old ball and chain.” He grinned. “Apparently, this is our ‘great big adventure’ of packing up, starting fresh in a small community, immersing ourselves in all that this great country has to offer, or something like that.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “So this is your wif—”
“Husband’s,” he corrected.
My breath hitched before I regained my footing and continued. “Your husband’s big plan?” Heat rose in my cheeks, and I wanted the ground to swallow me whole. I hated being embarrassed, being taken unaware. Karma was laughing her damn ass off as she continued to throw shit at me, or into situations, just to make it clear that my punishment wasn’t over.
“Indeed. But what are you going to do when he’s such a fine specimen of a man.” He nudged his head to his right, and my eyes landed on a guy with a good six inches or so on Ted. He was fit and about my age. And yeah, he was a fine specimen. I almost got whiplash when I swung my head back to Ted quickly. I didn’t want him to think I was checking his husband out, even though he’d drawn attention to him. And shit, why would he even do that? Did he know somehow that I was gay? Know I’d appreciate how hot his husband was? Heck, when I came out and finally admitted I was gay, did I start kicking off a new pheromone or some shit?
I stared at him wide-eyed, and I was sure with terror written all over my face.
“Hey there.” Ted’s amusement fled, and his voice softened with concern. His hand landed on my forearm, and I jolted. “You okay?”
I nodded abruptly, two sharp up-and-down movements.
“Okay.” He patted my arm gently. “Don’t move.”
I watche
d dumbstruck as he turned away, reached for a bottle from the top shelf, and returned to stand before me. He then bent and placed two shot glasses in front of us. Once he poured in the brown liquid, he nudged one over to me. “Pick it up.” I did so. My body buzzed, adrenaline pulsing through every nerve ending. I really needed to get my shit together. “Now”—he raised his glass—“here’s to good liquor, kind words, and to good head.”
I snorted. There was a small fracture in the irrational fear that had taken hold of me.
With a wink, he clinked his glass with mine and threw the shot back. I smiled then. It was real, still filled with nerves, but the tension loosened its steel grip. I lifted my own shot back and swallowed, wincing at the burn.
“I think one more’s in order.” He laughed and then looked hastily in the direction of his husband. “Quick, before Harry comes over and stops us.”
His humor was infectious, and I smiled wider. “Better get to it then. But if I throw up, it’s your fault.”
“Ha! Sounds like a challenge to me.” Warmth hit my back as I picked up the glass once more. I paused, my gaze landing on a wide-eyed Ted. His eyes scanned whoever was behind me before he glanced at me, a new twinkle of something in them.
“What are we celebrating?” His voice was low, though held humor. And I recognized it immediately.
Davis.
I didn’t look behind me, too unsure how to react. How exactly did a guy react after he’d kissed a stranger and then run out without even a backward glance, let alone a goodbye? I paused at that, thinking how I’d react if it had been a woman I’d run out on. Truth be told, I wouldn’t have given much of a shit, as the kiss would have been forced and gone against every natural instinct inside me. I wished I didn’t know that from experience.
Aware of not only the silence but of the bartender looking at the figure behind me, then back at me with a smirk, I held back the grimace that tried to break free.
“What’ll it be?” Ted asked.
Davis moved to my side, and I swallowed hard before gathering the nerve to look his way. His eyes were firmly on me, his mouth fixed in a careful smile. How I even knew it was careful was beyond me, but I was able to deduce enough to recognize caution when I saw it.
“Hey, Scott.” His voice was smooth, calm, and a little quieter than his previous words.
I nodded. “Hey.” But I couldn’t muster a smile. I glanced away, no clue how to react or respond. If there was ever a time that I wanted to punch myself—and admittedly there’d been several such occasions over the past few weeks—now was the perfect moment. I felt pathetic and so out of my comfort zone, a hit of pain was a possible solution to getting me back on track. My whole life I’d played the part of arrogant and privileged. The truth was, though, there’d been no playing. I had been those things. My only chance of redemption was knowing wealth had been a noose and arrogance had been a ruse. But still, I’d lost who I was, and that was one heck of a hard pill to swallow.
I gripped my drink and took a big gulp, not even wincing at the burn.
Davis’s arm brushed mine when he angled himself closer to the bar, leaning over slightly with his outstretched hand. I willed myself to remain relaxed and ignore the contact, blindly and unsuccessfully refusing to pay attention to the heat traveling across my skin or the buzz of electricity the contact created. I had no idea how successful I was at concealing my reaction. I was just relieved I hadn’t broken into a cold sweat.
“Hey, the name’s Davis. New owner, right?”
Ted smiled and shook Davis’s hand. “There are no secrets in this place, huh?” I didn’t miss that Ted’s gaze landed on me briefly. “Ted. Nice to meet you.” He tilted his head to the side. “Another outta towner, right?”
I could imagine the grin on Davis’s face. I didn’t dare look at him; my fear stilled me.
“That’s right. We’ve been here about a year now. I own the Split Bean in town. The coffee shop.” I stilled at the news, wondering how I didn’t know that. The Split Bean made the best coffee in town. Admittedly, there wasn’t much competition, but it was still good. They also made amazing cakes. When I’d worked at the clinic, it was usually one of the receptionists or a nurse who grabbed orders for everyone at lunch, though, so I’d rarely been in there. “Not sure I’ll ever be classed as a local though, until maybe I’ve been here for thirty years or so,” Davis continued with a chuckle.
Smiling, Ted said, “I can imagine.” He wiped the bar top. “Beer?”
Davis nodded. “Yep, what’s on tap will be good.”
“Sure thing.” Ted took a glass and started pouring Davis’s drink. “You said we?” he pressed, his eyes flicking up to Davis at my side.
This time I risked a glance at Davis. He was smiling, apparently his natural state. The guy seemed so damn happy. My gaze roamed the side of his face, landing on the small creases around his eyes, and my gut clenched. Shit. Reality hit me. I was sitting silently at the bar like a spare part. I had no idea if I should get up and leave to find a table or stay. My inability to handle the situation made me jolt, or at least made my knee jerk. What the hell was with overanalyzing? I could play this game, right? Act like a goddamn human being at least. I told myself that playing was what I was meant to stop doing. In my world, playing tended to equal lying to myself and those around me. This was meant to be the new, brave, no-bullshit Scott.
Shrugging off my tension, I paid attention to the conversation taking place around me and jolted for real this time when one of Davis’s words registered. “You have a daughter?” I spun in my seat to look at him full on.
With a glance my way, he nodded, though his brows dipped in amusement, confusion—I had no idea what. Though he did seem to be working out what my outburst was about. His lips quirked into a smile. “I sure do.”
“But you’re gay.” The words fell out of my mouth before I could stop them. My filter shattered. I would swear blind to anyone who asked that I wasn’t usually this way… this dim-witted or dense, but hell…. Daughter? Rattled wasn’t a strong enough word to describe what the hell my brain was playing at. It was trying and failing to make sense of everything. Not only was I still in a spin with my own revelations, but I was ridiculously affected by Davis. Apparently, so much so, common sense and all pretense of subtlety flew out the window. In its place, stupidity had taken root and made my brain its home.
Davis pursed his lips. I couldn’t help but be distracted by them, remembering all too clearly how they’d felt against mine. “Shit,” I managed. “Sorry?” Yes, it came out as a damn question. My eyes widened in horror, gaze firmly on Davis. I didn’t even glance when I heard Ted snort and place Davis’s drink down before his footsteps moved away.
With a raised brow, Davis asked, “Are you?”
Was I what? Sorry about asking? Sorry for saying something so inappropriate? Absolutely. But admittedly, I was as curious as hell.
Chapter Seven
DAVIS
A wide-eyed Scott stared at me. A mixture of horror and embarrassment swirled across his features, but I didn’t miss the interest either. He could’ve so easily turned away from me, just as he could’ve easily pleaded ignorance. Hell, he could have simply downed his drink and run. Instead, the confusion written on his face was intriguing and somewhat adorable.
For the briefest of moments, I contemplated playing a game, winding him up. But considering all I knew about Scott, I didn’t think that wise. “Libby, my baby girl, she’s almost one now.”
His attention was rapt, focused, and he was seemingly listening to every word. I paused a moment, waiting to see if he would respond. When he didn’t, I continued. “So….” I didn’t know where I was going at all with this half a conversation. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him about the other night, about his running off, and of course about the whole my tongue in his mouth incident. I was convinced he’d dive through an unopened window to prevent that conversation, though. I needed to think fast, as this was all levels of awkward. Hell,
why had I even approached him? I ignored the obvious answer to that question and instead said, “You come here often?” I froze at how absurd I sounded. I seriously should have just backed away slowly, but then something happened that I didn’t expect, and damn if it didn’t make my gut tighten.
The handsome bastard smiled. It reached his eyes, and his mouth spread enough to show perfectly white teeth. “Do you need a moment to take it back, or are you just going to go with it?”
I laughed, possibly a little too loudly, but Scott was a conundrum. He appeared to teeter in fight-or-flight mode, while apparently throwing in an extra F of flirt for good measure. While the latter was definitely something I could get on board with, I didn’t trust how long this flirtatious Scott would last. A voice inside told me to be sensible and grab my drink and run, but I remained rooted to the spot, unwilling to pull away. “Not quite sure yet the best way to handle it, but perhaps it puts us on an equal footing of awkward moments and questions.”
Scott’s brows lifted a little, his mouth still curved upwards. “Touché.”
“Perhaps we can rewind just a little?” I reached out to pick up my beer and took a large mouthful. Cool and crisp, the liquid gave me a moment to collect myself. After swallowing, I angled a little more toward Scott, aware his gaze remained fixed on me. “So, you come here often?” My smile changed to a laugh in response to his deep snort and ringing laughter. “For real though, I mean with the new owners and such. You’ve been here a couple of months, right?”
With a bob of his head, Scott sobered a little, but there was still humor in his eyes. I hadn’t lost him completely. “Yeah, just a bit longer than that, but no, never this place. I wanted to check it out though, as I’d heard decent things about it.” His brown eyes remained connected to mine, and he smoothed his hair off his brow. “The owner, Ted, seems like a good guy.” He glanced around, possibly searching for Ted. I saw him standing off at the far side, pouring a drink and in conversation with a woman.
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