Page 11 of GDL

"No."

His frown deepens. "Why? What's wrong?"

"That's a loaded question, but I'll focus on the matter at hand. So to speak. If you've never had an experience with a man, I don't want your first time doing anything to be in a public restroom. I'd want it to be—" I cut myself off, not needing to go down that path. That's not the point I'm trying to make here, anyway.

Kynan inches closer. I look down between our bodies. If he takes one more step, the tips of our cocks are going to touch, and fuck, why do I want that so much? Why can't my cock agree with my brain that this guy—thistwenty-three-year-oldguy—is totally off-limits?

"What do you want my first time with a man to be like?" he asks, latching onto the one thing I wish he hadn't.

I take a step back, needing some physical distance if I'm going to have a hope in hell of controlling myself. My back hits the cold tiled wall. "I'd want it to be special," I say, surprised by the rough edge in my voice. "I'd want you to be taken care of. I'd want you to be with someone who places your comfort and pleasure above their own. Someone you can talk to openly about what feels good and what doesn't. Someone who can make youfeel all the pleasure in the world and hold you in his arms after he sends you soaring through the universe."

Something damp presses against me. I glance down. Kynan's cock has made contact with mine, his pre-cum oozing onto my crown. I want so badly to reach between us, slide my foreskin over his tip, and jerk us off together, docking-style.

But no.

Not like this. Not here. I may have blown professional boundaries out the window, but I meant what I said about Kynan's first time with a guy. He deserves better than a quick handjob in a diner restroom.

"I—"

The sound of approaching footsteps stops him in his tracks. We tear apart, barely managing to hustle back to our respective urinals before the door swings open and someone enters. I wrangle my still-hard cock into my briefs, zip up, and spin around.

"All yours, mate," I say to the waiting guy.

I quickly wash my hands, purposefully avoiding looking at my reflection in the mirror—because who the hell have I become?—and go wait for Kynan outside.

"Whoa. This reminds me of the first and only time in my life I dropped acid."

I chuckle as Grayson joins me by the entrance to the book tunnel. At first, I couldn't believe what I was seeing, either. We're surrounded by hundreds and hundreds of books, but they're not stacked on shelves, they're carefully arranged in a curved tunnel that stretches out in front of us. It looks like a gateway to another dimension.

"It is a bit trippy," I agree.

The entire crew of BBA are gathered in the quirkiest bookstore in LA, possibly the entire country, to do a photoshoot for an upcoming Hot 30 Under 30 article by a well-respected magazine. Grayson follows my gaze to the six young men posing in pairs, staggered along the length of the tunnel.

Well, maybe I'm a little more focused on one of the guys than the others.

"You know what else is trippy?" Grayson asks. Without waiting for a reply, he continues, "You having the hots for a twenty-three-year-old."

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, come on, Sawyer. It's been pretty obvious these past few days."

"What's been obvious?" I ask, folding my arms across my chest, my eyes remaining on Kynan.

The diner incident happened three days ago. While we were waiting for our rides outside the diner afterward, I apologizedagainfor my inappropriate behavior, and I told Kynan, in all seriousness, that from now on I would be the epitome of professionalism. When his face fell, and my heart felt heavy, I did leave the door open for somethingafterwe'd done the piece, but I assured him that from now until then, I would be keeping things strictly above board.

No more near kisses.

No more longer-than-strictly-necessary physical contact.

No more stolen glances that almost lead to docking in a restroom.

I thought I'd been doing a good job of hiding my attraction these past few days as I followed Kynan around, staying in the background through more photoshoots, trips to large and indie retailers that sell laundry products, and sitting in on a few business meetings.

"Mate, this is me. I know you. And I've never seen you look at anyone the way you look at Kynan. Not since… Elaine."

The mention of my late wife triggers a whirlwind of emotions. I loved her deeply, but what started off as teenage puppy love was forced to mature with the arrival of our first son. In that time, I grew up and discovered I was bi. She passed away from cancer before I could tell her, and then any feelings I had that things weren't right between us were frozen in a time capsule I hardly ever revisit.

There's no way I'd ever speak ill of her or bring up any of the issues we were having. You just don't do that. So I let people think we were the perfect couple. Don't get me wrong, I loved Elaine, and we were good together, but if she had lived, I don't know if we would have stayed together after the kids had grown up.

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