I went for a jog, something I always did to clear my mind and chill out. Then I made myself two packages of ramen because I hadn’t had breakfast or lunch. The sodium would probably kill me, but that day wasn’t today… I hoped. How shitty would that be, to drop dead the day before I had my diploma in hand?
After I ate, I hung out at my apartment for a bit. I didn’t want to go out too early. Eventually, I headed to the bathroom to get ready—cleaned myself out just in case, took a shower, and was on my way to the gay bar.
The place was smallish—they didn’t have much need for anything more around here. There was an indoor bar counter and one outside on the patio area. Music pulsed through the air as I approached, and the closer I got, the more it vibrated in my chest. It was a Friday night, so of course there was a cover fee, which took up part of my twenty already. But then, if I was looking to get laid tonight, I probably didn’t need to drink anyway.
Still, I’d get myself one, otherwise I could have just stayed home and found someone on an app. I wanted to be out, though, wanted to be around people, and I hoped I’d find someone who could take me to their place instead of my shithole apartment.
I paid the cover fee and went straight to the bar outside. It still wasn’t quite as busy as it would be in an hour or so, but by then, there would be more competition.
It only took a couple of minutes for the patrons ahead of me to get served. There was a guy sitting on a stool beside me. He looked like he was maybe in his early forties. Who could tell. I just knew he was older than me.
He had short, black hair in a neatly styled crew cut. Along his temples there were some gray hairs, but so few that I could probably count the strands if I wanted, and on the back of his head he had a small white spot, about the size of a dime. Birthmark, maybe? I’d never seen one like that. You could tell the hair wasn’t gray, just totally white. He had dark scruff along his jaw, but not in a messy, need-to-shave way. Like he took the time for it to look as good as it did, trimmed it daily. He had a thinnish nose and…damn, he kind of looked like a broader Rob Lowe.
I didn’t know exactly why I noticed him—other than the fact that he was gorgeous, but there were a lot of gorgeous guys there. I wasn’t against hooking up with older men. I wasn’t ageist, just never done it before… Not that I would be doing it tonight either, but my dick twitched and my pulse kicked up a notch.
When I looked down, I saw he had a cocktail in front of him that looked full.
“What can I get ya—oh, you’re pretty. You look like you could be a model,” the bartender said to me. He had on a crop top and glitter around his eyes.
“Thanks. You too.” I leaned on the counter with my arms crossed. It made my tee tighten around my chest and arms in a way that the bartender definitely noticed. He was eating me up with his eyes, but he was also at work, which meant I’d have to wait hours for him to get off. Unless he could slip into the bathroom…but I wasn’t really looking for a quick bathroom fuck.
“I’ll have a bottle of Corona,” I said, going for cheap.
“Anything you want, darlin’.” He winked at me, then disappeared.
“You’re smooth,” the man beside me said, a mischievous glint in his hazel eyes. His voice was deep and refined…like honey over a warm biscuit.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
The right side of his mouth quirked up. “I think you do. The way you leaned over and crossed your arms to draw his attention to your body.”
I cocked a brow. “His attention or yours?”
“Both, but you’re a little young for me.”
Well, now I was offended. I’d thought about him being older than me, but I didn’t want to be thought of as too young. It made me want him more…and oh, hello, that more came out of nowhere. Apparently, I was feeling Mr. Honey on a Biscuit. “I’m twenty-four, not a child.”
“I have seventeen years on you.”
So he was forty-one. I’d been close when I’d guessed his age.
“Here you go.” The bartender set my drink in front of me before I could respond. I took the remaining cash out of my pocket, paid, and damn, why in the fuck was a beer so expensive? Especially when I included the tip. “I haven’t seen you here before.”
“I’m around,” I said, not wanting to give too much information about myself. I glanced over and saw my… Shit, I didn’t even know what to call him—my neighbor—watching the exchange.
“Well, if you’re here in a couple of hours when I get off, you should find me,” the bartender said.
“Maybe I’ll do that.”
He gave me a nod, then got back to work.
“Are you going to be around?” Honey on a Biscuit asked.
I shrugged and took a drink. “I don’t know. Maybe. I came to get laid, but I’m hoping it doesn’t take that long.” Look at me, putting it all out there just in case. I totally wanted this guy. He got my balls tingling for some reason. “What about you?”
“I came for a drink. I’m at a hotel right down the street, but their bar was a little…stuffy.”
“Old and stuffy?” I teased.
“You’re not being very nice. I just met you, and you’re calling me old.”
“You called me young,” I countered.
“I said young for me.”
We each took a drink at the same time, watching each other as we did. There was something between us, a spark of attraction I was interested in taking the night to explore.
“Well,” I said, “that’s a shame because I’m very, very good.”
He chuckled. “I have no doubt…” He let the words trail off, clearly hinting for what to call me.
“I probably shouldn’t give you my name. My mom always tells me not to talk to strangers.”
A loud burst of laughter fell from his mouth, rich and addictive. It made me want to do the same.
“Touché.”
“I think I’m too young to know what that means.”
“Are you going to bust my balls all night?” He took another swallow.
“Well, I mean, I’m not usually into that kind of thing. I’d rather do something else with them, but since you’re not interested…” I was laying it on thick but in a playful way. He was fun, and I wanted that—something exciting and different.
“I think we’re misunderstanding each other. I said you’re young, not that I wasn’t interested.” He pushed his drink away, then mine.
“Bossy much?” But I liked that if we were hooking up, he didn’t want either of us to have had much to drink. I found it kind of hot.
I froze when he reached out, cupped my cheek with his hand. I wasn’t a twink, really, but he looked bigger than my five feet ten. We were both lean, but it was clear we physically took care of our bodies—mine with running and weights, and I was blessed with a fast metabolism despite the shit I ate. He was broader than me, though.
Honey on a Biscuit brushed his thumb against my cheekbone, making me tremble and my cock ache.
“You’re adorable.”
“Adorable doesn’t sound very much like, I want to jump your bones. Which is okay if you’re not interested. I don’t beg, and I’m not down with pressuring anyone, but the fire in your eyes tells a different story.”