Page 4 of The Photograph

“When did you first realize you were gay?” I say. I love hearing people’s stories. Everyone’s got a tale to tell about how they nearly kissed their best friend or got an embarrassing hard-on in a locker room.

“Well, I’m not really sure I am gay.”

And I blink at him. Like,what? My mouth curls up. He’s joking, surely?

“I like women, I’ve had sex with women. I’d probably class myself as bisexual,” he adds.

Even the appearance of two cocktails can’t stop my heart from sinking. It’s not that I have a problem with this exactly, I’ve just got a poor history with bisexual men. And I don’t like that word he used,probably. I’m gay from my fingertips to my toes, and I love men. And I always wonder with bi guys why they’d choose a gay relationship when they can have a straight one and not have to deal with all the prejudice?

“What do you like about women?” I say, even though my spirits are plummeting with this whole conversation.

He opens his mouth and closes it again and pink creeps into his cheeks. Does he really think he’s bi or is he in denial?

“When did you last go out with a woman?”

He shrugs, and I duck my head trying to catch his eye, but he stares off to the side. “A few years ago. I took her home to meet my parents … we were together for a year.”

“What sort of porn do you watch?”

“What?What kind of question is that?”

Shrugging, I take a sip of my cocktail. Surely, it would indicate his real preference. His long fingers cup the edge of his glass, cradling his drink. Hmm. I’m so clearly gay and out that I don’t tend to have relationships with guys where that’s not the case. But I have no objection to it, and I do understand. I like women, too. I love working for Jo. But I would never view her sexually. That’d be weird, but that’s not to say …

He leans forward. “I want to say right off the bat that I’m not a casual hookup type of person.”

Whaaatttt?Why is he on Grindr then? And my response didn’t exactly scream relationship material. Goddammit, I’ve been judged and found wanting.And he’s dodged the pornquestion.Maybe he doesn’t watch it? Okay, might as well go for bust.

“If it doesn’t sound rude, why are you on Grindr?”

He grins, eyes crinkling. “You were cute. I was browsing.”

My stomach sinks. This is kind of naïve. Grindr is not that place. My plans for this evening are evaporating faster than rain on a hot sidewalk. What a waste—a gorgeous guy like him should be getting laid every night.

“Meet a man, chat, see if we like each other, have a meal. You know, date,” he continues.

I swallow. “Exclusively?”

His eyes narrow on me. “Do you do that?”

“Not really.”

He shrugs. “Well, ideally it would be exclusive, but if the other guy isn’t into that …”

Oh no. No, no, no. That never works. Expectations on one side and not the other. Yuk.

Leaning forward, he tilts his head at me. “I could bend the rules for once, branch out. I like anticipating where things might go, Des.”

Hopefully, to a bed. A strained laugh seeps out. “Well, so do I, but I guess an evening’s worth of anticipation is enough for me.”

“I’m more a couple-of-months kind of guy,” he says, pursing his lips. “Nice and slow.”

Jesus. Now the idea that he responded to me at all is becoming laughable.

“Why did you agree to meet up with me then? My response doesn’t exactly appear to be what you’re looking for.”

He doesn’t seem offended by this at all and smiles at me. “I detected a desire to shock, but I didn’t detect any reluctance to pursue a real relationship, just the opposite. You seemed honest and self-deprecating,” he grins. “Interesting, too.”

God, please can you do something about all naïve men?

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