Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90877 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90877 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
“Different tastes.” I shrugged, feeling a prick of exasperation. “A lot of the stuff I restore is sentimental.”
I thought about the shortwave radio someone had brought in today that stood about four feet tall and had been passed down in the family. I dove in as soon as the customer left, carefully cleaning it before opening the back to view the circuitry, losing myself completely in the task.
“Wanna get out of here?” he asked with a lift of an eyebrow.
Did I? If things had gone well, maybe I wouldn’t have minded a hookup, or at least a make-out and groping session. But more so, I’d hoped my first time meeting someone would proceed more slowly. I wanted to ease into the idea, quite honestly. And it didn’t help that the guy had rubbed me the wrong way.
“I…I don’t know,” I admitted. “The truth is, this is my first time since…”
Fuck, I didn’t want to blow this by bringing up sad shit. But what did it matter? I didn’t think there would even be a second time with this guy. There wasn’t much of a connection, except maybe physically.
“Since what?” His eyebrows had drawn together.
I took a breath and then just got it out. “Since my wife passed away over two years ago.”
His eyes grew comically wide. I hadn’t told him that in any of our conversations. It was nice just to talk about myself without that topic being the focus. Now I wondered if James had ever lost someone dear to him, but I didn’t want to sour the mood any more than it already was.
“Oh shit, have you been closeted this whole time?”
My gut tightened. Really? That was his first response? No compassion about losing someone?
“Closeted—no, I’m bi. It’s just been years, and I thought… I don’t know what I thought exactly.” My fingers fiddled with my coffee-cup lid. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.”
He narrowed his eyes, a cross between amusement and impatience. “Were you only looking to experiment with someone? If so, we can still get out of here and—”
“No, been there, done that—before I was married. I was just hoping for a pleasant conversation, maybe a connection, and I figured I’d go from there.”
“Yeah, okay.” He looked away as if he didn’t believe me. “For what it’s worth, I’ve been with plenty of ‘straight’ guys who are closeted gays.”
“I’m not…” I scoffed. What the actual fuck? “Thank you for meeting me. But I’m not looking for anything else, not tonight.”
I reached behind me to throw out my cup in the nearby receptacle, feeling pretty frustrated. All I wanted was to get out of there.
“Looks like I ruined the evening,” James said with a frown, which made me feel a bit guilty. Except, he was obviously expecting something physical to happen between us. Maybe meeting for coffee on an online dating site was just code for hooking up. What in the hell did I know? Damn, I was feeling my age.
“I’m gonna guess you have plenty of opportunities,” I replied, and the smirk on his face told me everything I needed to know. “Thanks for the coffee. It was nice to get my feet wet.”
“Hope you figure it out.” He stood with his empty cup, then bolted out of the shop. I waited several beats so it wouldn’t get uncomfortable in the parking lot, and thankfully, I saw no sign of him as I slid into my front seat.
I felt unsettled the whole way home, wishing I hadn’t mentioned any of that. Maybe I would’ve gotten into the guy, into the idea of leaving with him, if I’d just… No, I knew better than to force it. This was a date, not a hookup. It might’ve led to sex if we were both on the same page, but the messages between us all week only talked about grabbing coffee and meeting face-to-face. If he assumed something different, that was on him.
When I turned into my driveway, the house seemed as gloomy and empty as I felt right then. I considered walking over to my mom’s place, but she’d probably ask a bunch of questions I wasn’t ready to answer. My sister was good at the intrusive queries as well. Which was why I hadn’t told either of them about the date, and even if I had, I wasn’t sure I’d say it was with a guy.
My family knew I’d been with both men and women back in the day. But fifteen years had passed, being married to a woman I was deeply in love with, and the subject had never come up again. Just like James, they probably assumed I was only experimenting before “deciding” to be straight. Though I’d expected better from someone in the LGBTQIA community. Guess it only showed there were losers everywhere.