Page 37 of Ancient History

“Or hoping to meet someone here,” Everett offered, a comment that made my stomach turn.

“He seems to be walking fine, Julian. No sign of a limp,” Everett said. I kept the story of Hutch’s knee to myself. It was still a painful subject for him, and I didn’t want to reduce it to a bit. Hutch walked with a shy swagger. He had underlying confidence, as evidenced by the puffed-out chest, but his face screamedout of my element.

“Well, if he was fresh from rehab, he wouldn’t be coming to a bar by himself.” Julian raised his eyebrows in gotcha fashion.

“Will you both stop?” I hissed at my friends.

Hutch took his drink to a hi-top table in the corner. He scrolled on his phone, the universal sign that meantPlease don’t think I’m actually here alone.

But he was.

“I can’t believe he’s here alone,” Julian said with sympathy.

Despite myself, I felt bad. I didn’t get any satisfaction seeing him alone. I didn’t have a karmic chuckle. Hutch kept checking his phone, his brave face only holding for so long. The crowd on the dance floor helped block his view of our table.

As the minutes wore on, his aloneness became more stated. Nobody met up with him. A few sketchy guys walked over to flirt with him, which made my stomach violently twist and thrash. Yet after a few minutes, they’d leave defeated, and he went back to nursing his beer. Hutch rudely put a serious wrench in my enjoyment of this evening. How could I try and find a guy to forget him when he was being all sad boy in the corner?

“Do you think we should invite him over?” I asked.

The guys all traded looks as if I suggested we jump off the roof.

“Sure,” said Julian.

“That’s cool with us.” Everett leaned over the table. “Is that cool with you?”

“Of course that’s cool with me! Why wouldn’t it be?” I flitted away before I could hear their answer and before my internal objections could kick in.

11

HUTCH

Like a vision in the desert, Amos appeared through the sweaty bodies on the dance floor and approached my small table.

Shit. As if being caught alone and awkward at my first gay bar wasn’t embarrassing enough. I stood up straight and put on my best nonchalant smirk as I scrolled on my phone.

I waited a second before acknowledging him coming over.

“Oh, hey,” I uttered with a detached coolness that instantly made me sound like a tool.

“You’re here.”

“I am.”

“You do know this is a gay bar, right?”

“I do.” I nodded and looked down at my drink, nervous as shit. I was at a gay bar for everyone to see. It was another step forward, and my heart was taking a giant leap out of my chest. “I realized that my text all those years ago was wrong, and I’m not straight.”

“Huh. You don’t say?” His face lit up with understanding. He clapped a hand heavy with support on my shoulder, which sent a current directly to my dick. “Welcome.”

“I’d been curious about coming here for a while. Maybe ever since high school.”

“What finally did it?”

“Pop. We were watching TV and eating Chinese take out. He told me that a good-looking kid like me shouldn’t be wasting the prime of his youth watching TV with his dad on a Friday night. He dared me to go to a gay bar for one hour, and I don’t back down from a dare.”

Pop could be a stubborn asshole, but he was pushing for me to be the best version of myself.

“I hope it lives up to your expectations.” Amos smiled at the surroundings. Men dancing, carousing, music playing. Yep, expectations met. Amos looked great tonight, light and breezy in a fun button-down shirt.

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