AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Once outside, Trey asked if Connor was sure that he wanted to walk. “It’s starting to rain,” he said. “We could summon an Uber and it would be here in, like, five minutes.”
“We could. But it’s hardly raining. This is typical for Seattle. You know that. We don’t let a little drizzle stop us.” He stepped out farther onto the street. What was falling was almost a mist—the kind of precipitation long-termers and natives weren’t deterred by. He gestured with his head and Trey followed.
They walked along Northlake Way, so they could be beside Lake Union’s dark waters until they came to Fremont Avenue. When they got to the blue bridge that spanned the Fremont Cut, they had to stop because the bridge was up. Connor pointed out the neon sculpture of Rapunzel affixed to the guard tower.
Silently, a sailboat with strands of white lights glided under the bridge. Brenda Lee singing, “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree,” reached them faintly. Connor felt suddenly relaxed. The cold night air, the mist that felt like a kiss, and the stars shining above them—all seemed like portents telling him this was good; it was right.
And yet a voice in the back of his mind chided:Honey, are you sure you’re not just trying to force something to be right so you don’t have to go through the rigors of dating again? So you can show Steve how stupid he was to leave you? And even better, how you can still attract a hot man?
He told that inner voice to shut the hell up, even though the obvious truth of it stung.
When the bridge came back down, they proceeded across its grated surface, Connor gazing down between the metal at the dark water. On the other side, they stopped for a moment to admire the houseboats on Lake Union, festooned with colored holiday lights and then headed up the hill, in darkness and silence, to Connor’s condo.
Trey gently touched his hand, as though by accident, and then, when he encountered no resistance from Connor, intertwined his fingers in Connor’s. And for just a moment, Connor imagined they were an older couple, long together, walking themselves home after a simple supper out. The feeling and the image was so homey it lifted his heart.
Back at the condo, Connor got Trey a bourbon and poured himself a ginger ale. Trey slipped out again onto the balcony. “Do you get to see the Christmas lights parade from here?”
“Yup. With the finale at Gas Works, the lighted boats all end up right in front of my building. I like to imagine it’s a command performance, just for me.” He chuckled. “Then I reel myself back to reality. Itismagical though. It brings out the kid in me.” He moved back toward the sliders. “I’m gonna excuse myself for a minute. Be right back.”
He took himself into the little powder room and had a quick pee, then washed his hands and splashed his face with cold water. The evening, the date, however he wanted to label it, had had its ups and downs, but overall, it was going all right. Trey had an air of mystery, and that wasn’t a bad thing. Plus, he was sexy as hell, which never hurt. All in all, it looked like there might be some potential for more.
Maybe.
He was happy he’d be able to tell Miranda in the morning that the date had been a qualified success. And he hoped that he could also let her know that a second date was lined up, in the very near future.
Perhaps he could have both Trey and Miranda over for the Christmas Boats finale and dinner?
He opened the door and looked immediately to the balcony, where he expected to find Trey still sightseeing and sipping his bourbon.
But he was gone.
“Uh, Trey?”
He wasn’t in the living room. Nor was he in the kitchen.
Connor wandered down the hallway. The guest room slash office was empty, although Trey had obviously switched on the desk lamp because Connor didn’t recall having done that. There’d been no reason to.
He came to his own bedroom, which was suffused with a warm glow from a small lamp on his dresser.
On his bed, Trey lay, hands behind his head. He was wearing only a pair of black boxer briefs.
“This feels so good.” He stroked the faux fur throw that Connor had placed across the bed. “Come on.” He patted the bed beside him.
Connor froze. He didn’t know what to do. Butterflies took wing in his gut. This wasnotwhere he wanted to go, even if Trey was sexy and even sexier nearly naked. His body was tight, muscular, and saved from boring perfection by a pinkish scar that ran down the center of his abs.
But this was too fast.
Connor’s only intention in bringing Trey home was to have a drink and maybe talk a little more. He hadn’t been in a relationship so long, nor was he too old to remember that most gay men were quick to hop into bed together. But he needed to take things slowly; about that much Miranda had been right. He’d never been promiscuous, even back in the days before HIV. He’d always been a softie, a romantic at heart.
This gay man is not ready forthat.
The sting of being dumped still clung to him. He loved Steve, despite that love no longer being reciprocated. He’d wake some mornings and reach for him, his head still clouded with sleep. When he wasn’t there, the disappointment arose, like some dark cloud.
Would the loss never get easier?
Trey lifted his head and cocked it. “You gonna join me?”
Part of Connor, the insufferably polite, nonconfrontational portion, debated for a moment whether he should just hop on the bed with Trey…to simply not rock the boat and be a good host.
