Page 49 of Except You

“Bummer, bro,” Matt says and then grabs the ball from Mitch, shooting it into the hoop. I watch it all, feeling slightly sluggish. But I make myself play a few games and listen to their shit-talking the entire time.

Goddamn. Was I always like this?

Probably. But I also didn’t know any better. Although I should have. I should have known much better. I’m an adult. I should have grown the fuck up.

Honestly, I don’t want to keep coming to these meetups. I just need some space from them. Maybe I’ll join the guys who play racquetball on the weekends instead.

“I’m gonna go,” I blurt after only a half hour, despite the two of them still wanting to play more games. But I’m not in the mood. I just want to go home and spend the evening with Beau.

But of course, I don’t tell him this. I don’t even text him. I’m a man like that. I keep it all inside.

Instead, I spend my free time reading another gay romance novel, curled up on the couch, my body fluctuating between hot and cold, my dick not sure which way to go.

So later that night, unable to sleep again, I end up scrolling a dating site. I find someone to meet up with the next day after work. Someone very much a woman and someone I hope that I can get hard for.

Someone I can fuck, to get this uneasy feeling out of my system.

Even though, when I’m with Beau it doesn’t feel uneasy. No, it feels remarkably simple. Like this is exactly how it should be.

But still, the following night, I find myself out on a date with Melissa, a beautiful woman with waist-long brown hair and big blue eyes. She’s gorgeous. Model-worthy. And to top it off, she’s funny and smart and witty. I like her. I really fucking do.

“You want to come back to my place?” I ask after we’ve had a drink and chatted for a bit, feeling excited that she’s so damn wonderful. Maybe she’s the cure for whatever this new feeling is that’s blooming inside of me. Maybe she’s the way out of this maze of confusion.

“Yes, but I’m driving because as nice as you are, you may be a serial killer.”

I chuckle at that, shaking my head.

“I won’t murder you. Promise.”

“No creepy basement dungeons?”

“Nope. No basement at all.”

“No weird sex attics?”

I snort at that and shake my head.

“Alright,” she says with a wink. “Sounds like a good time then.”

When we arrive back at my place, I feel a thrum of nerves pierce me, but I push them aside because I need to give this a shot. With her, everything could be so easy.

As soon as the door locks behind us, she saunters up to me, her hair pulled over one shoulder.

She moves nothing like Beau does. Everything about her is different. She even smells wrong, like vanilla and not flowers.

Doggo comes up to us, wagging his tail dramatically, and she bends down to pet him, cooing nonsensical words at him. She’s even nice to my dog when she doesn’t need to be.

When she finally stands up, she grins. “Cute dog.”

“Yeah, got him recently. He’s a good one.”

Her hands fall to my chest and the steady thump of my heart picks up a beat. Not sure if it’s lust or maybe just nerves.

“Maybe show me around? From what I can see, this is a really nice place. I want to scope it out for a future burglary,” she says with a grin, and I pull away, thankful for the reprieve. I’m not sure I want to just jump into this. It’s been a while since I’ve fucked someone. It’s a lot of pressure.

We walk around the house, me pointing out what I’ve done to improve the space, and she seems genuinely interested in everything I have to say. When we make it back to the living room, her eyes are soft and kind.

“You’re a catch, Max. I kind of can’t believe you’re real.”

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