Page 53 of Heart Taker

Damien: I don’t know if I should do this. Part of me says go for it and see what happens, the other part is scared as fuck.

Selwin: That’s normal. And wouldn’t you rather find out if it’s something you want to explore rather than holding back? I know you. You’re not a middle of the road kind of guy. It’s all or nothing.

Damien: True. Ever since Chicago, things are different. My personal life was stuck in sleep mode but suddenly I’m awake again. And I think it’s time I figure myself out.

Selwin: Only do it if it feels right. Also, this sudden need to explore your sexuality, it wouldn’t have to do with a certain defenseman you coach, would it?

I gripped my phone so tightly; I’m surprised I didn’t break it. My hands were shaky, and it took me forever to type out a response.

Damien: What? No. I told you, he’s my student.

Selwin: He’s hot AF and an adult. An adult who eye-fucked you. There was no mistaking it.

Damien: I can’t go there. Come on, Sel, I need to think of my career for fuck’s sake. Imagine if Dave found out? Or worse, the college president?

Selwin: Who says anyone needs to find out?

Damien: I’m heading inside.

Selwin: Text me later. I need to hear ALL the details.

Damien: I doubt they’ll be anything to report. Except me making an ass of myself LOL.

Selwin: I doubt it. Remember, eye contact and a smile. That’s all you need.

Damien: If only things were that easy.

Selwin: Have a beer first, remember to relax, and don’t overthink it.

My jaw clenched so tightly that at this point I was in danger of breaking a tooth…

Damien: Telling someone to relax has the opposite effect, you know that right?

Selwin: The younger guys are going to be all over you. You’ll be fighting them off.

Damien: I doubt that. And I want to ease into this, not jump without a parachute.

Selwin: Stop using your brain and think with your dick. Remember him?

Damien: It’s been years since I did that.

Selwin: Welcome back.

I shoved my phone in the pocket of my jeans and finally eased out of the car. Either it was warm for June, or I was stress-sweating because my button down stuck uncomfortably to my skin. Rolling up the sleeves, I checked my reflection in the driver side window and decided I looked fine. Maybe a bit tired and anxious, but hey, it was what it was. I popped a breath mint, ran an agitated hand through my hair, and stepped up to the front door of the bar.

When I ventured inside, I was greeted by the noisy hum of conversation and the enticing smell of greasy pub food and beer. Music was playing, but thankfully, at a level that didn’t shatter my eardrums. Two guys in their twenties stood ahead of me in line, holding hands and trading lingering kisses.

And I thought it was hot outside…

The couple was greeted by a host and seated at one of the booths that lined the walls. Since I spotted a couple of empty seats at the bar, I made a beeline for the last stool.

The bartender, a dark-haired guy with big dimples and a cropped tank top, leaned over and gave me a welcoming grin.

“Hey there, what can I get you?”

“I was thinking a pint of a local IPA,” I replied. “What do you recommend?”

“We’ve got a new one for summer called Golden Hour. It’s very smooth with a hit of citrus.”

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