Page 5 of No Pucks

“Have anyone else you like. Evander can help you pick one.” I’m not in the mood for his usual verbal sparring.

“You really want some guy who’s probably over forty when this bar is full of college guys home for the summer?” James asks, as if he’s any better.

“And?”

“And why do you like guys that age?” James sees the pattern, but I’ve never hidden it.

“Bet he gives head like my cum is water and he just escaped a desert of a marriage.”

James makes a face. “I don’t want to hear about your cum and how it is or isn’t watery.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take a video for you so you don’t have to wonder.” I fix my cuffs and take a step towards the bar.

“Let’s make him a game.” James fights just to fight. I can’t tell if it’s his way of flirting, or if he’s attention starved. My brother can figure it out. I have a man to seduce.

“No.” I meet James’ eyes, waiting for a rebuttal.

“Let him be.” Evander puts his hand on James’ arm, pulling him away to find a table.

“Neither of you is any fun,” James says to my back.

I don’t bother with a reply or a backward glance.

Mr. Recently Divorced stands at the bar trying to flag down a bartender.

I hold out my black card as I sidle up beside him, and that gets his attention. I nod to him. “What are you drinking?”

His gaze drags down my throat to the open buttons of my dress shirt. “Why?”

“You look like you could use a drink and…”A good fuck, I finish in my head, but I won’t say it. He seems a little skittish, and I don’t want to scare him off.

“How’d you know?” he asks before giving the bartender his order.

I hold up two fingers and hand over my card before turning. “It’s written all over you.”

“One drink,” he says, an edge to his voice. He already knows what I want.

That’s what they all say.

“Do you have some place to be?” I ask, picking up the glass as soon as it’s set in front of me.

“A hotel bed is calling my name.” He thumbs his fourth finger like a bad habit, which means the ring hasn’t been off long. He catches where my eyes went and stops, grabbing his own drink.

“Alone?” I ask, unable to stop myself.

He meets my gaze with his pretty blues but doesn’t answer, taking a drink instead.

That’s right, handsome. Drink up. I’m made entirely of bad decisions.

“What brought you to the city?” I ask, knowing he might be hard to get out of the bar. I love older men just realizing they’re bisexual. Giving them their first gay experience is a little game of mine, and there’s no better place to reel them in.

He gives me another once over, weighing my question. “An interview.” His words are clipped and short—he doesn’t want to be known.

Fair enough.

“How did it go?” From his exhausted appearance, I’d assume not well.

“I have the job if I want it.” He wears a scowl so well, if he told me he has never smiled in his life, I’d believe him.

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