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Greg laughed. “That was exactly what my dad said when he told me he and Mom were opening the inn.”
“Ouch.” Holden put a hand over his heart. “Comparing me to your dad? Way to make me feel old, dude.”
Heat crept up Greg’s face, and he resumed fiddling with his silverware. He was pretty sure Holden was flirting, and while Greg appreciated it, it also put him in the complicated position of figuring out what to disclose to him and when. While he knew he was interested in Holden, those feelings were still firmly in the platonic realm, which made it difficult to know when to tell the other person he was HIV positive and ace, and then, provided the guy hadn’t decided Greg was too much work, have the conversation about what those things meant in the context of a relationship.
Too often, the decision came down to when Greg wanted to face rejection. These were weighty topics that tended to deflate any new relationship energy for his potential partner. Disclosing early before Greg had the chance to develop romantic feelings shielded him from the possibility of a deeper emotional wound when he was rejected after he started to feel something for the other guy. But early disclosure ran the risk of cutting off the chance of those feelings developing when the guy bailed because he couldn’t deal with the complications Greg presented. Why stick around to see if there was the possibility of a relationship when all you wanted was to get off? And even if that wasn’t the case, sometimes the other guy didn’t want to put labels on what they had or freaked out at having to have a serious relationship conversation on the first or second date.
“Hey,” Holden said and reached across the table to put his hand on top of Greg’s. His touch was warm, probably the result of the way he’d been cradling the mug like it held the elixir of life. When Greg looked up and met Holden’s gaze, the man smiled. “Where’d you go?”
Fortunately, a yawn caught Greg by surprise, and he was able to cover by saying he was still pretty wiped out from yesterday. He raised his mug again. “Thank God for caffeine.”
“Amen,” Holden said and tipped his mug toward Greg.
Just relax and enjoy his company, Greg told himself and smiled at Holden. “So, you know I’m a flight attendant, and we’re both ex-military, some more ex than others—”
“Hey! Be nice,” Holden said, but he was laughing.
“Are you based in Virginia?”
Holden nodded as the waiter brought their food and placed the full plates in front of them. “That smells so good.” He immediately reached for the salt and shook it over the potatoes. “I am. Virginia’s been home since I left the service.”
“Do you like it there?”
“I do. There are aspects of it that are…challenging, but that’s becoming increasingly true across the country.”
Greg nodded, and they both tucked into their breakfast, continuing to ask the kind of getting-to-know-you questions they hadn’t been able to in the club. The warmth Greg felt in his chest wasn’t just because of the restaurant’s heating system or the good food; a lot of it had to do with the company and how easy it was to be with Holden. And when Holden asked if Greg wanted to go to the Tattered Cover with him, Greg said yes because it meant more time with him.
Chapter eight
Holden
Thesnowhadtaperedoff by the time they finished eating, but Holden didn’t know if the sky looked lighter because it was or if he was hoping. One of the challenges of his schedule and the way it often changed without notice was that he was frequently caught ill-prepared for the local weather. He tried to travel as light as possible to avoid checking bags and had accumulated a few “just in case” essentials that didn’t take up too much room, so while he had a thermal shirt under his sweater, he didn’t have snow boots. His shoes were multipurpose and waterproof but didn’t offer much in the way of insulation against the cold, so Holden ordered them a Lyft after paying the bill.
Greg protested since Holden had refused to let him pay for a part of the room.
“You have to at least let me buy you dinner,” Greg said.
“Maybe.”
As they sat in the back seat of the Lyft, Holden studied Greg. The younger man was staring out the window, so Holden was able to observe him without being too obvious. Something about Greg had drawn him in from the moment Holden had seen him at Neon and made him want to know more. That Greg was gorgeous was obvious; Holden had had to fight with himself all through breakfast so as not to stare at his blue eyes—trying to figure out the correct name for their color was quickly becoming an obsession—or the way his lips looked full and kiss-blushed.
As much as Greg seemed to appreciate his company, something about him warned Holden not to come on too strong or be too obvious in his attraction. Holden couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was or how he knew Greg wasn’tnotinterested, even though he wasn’t getting the usual signs of encouragement from an interested partner.
Partner, Holden thought, turning that word over in his mind as he watched Greg and realizing he wasn’t looking for a hookup with this man. Not anymore. It both thrilled and terrified him how easily they seemed to have moved from a one-and-done prospect to a first date in his mind. Because that was what their serendipitous reunion felt like. A date. A miraculous second chance to get to know each other.And then what? What are you going to do with a boyfriend when you can’t come out without risking your job, asshole?
Holden cleared his throat, which made Greg look his way.
“Did you grow up around here?” Holden asked.
Greg shook his head. “We lived on the other side of town. Is this your first time in the city?”
“Hardly. I’m here at least once a quarter, except for lockdown when everything was online.” Holden shook his head. “Somehow, I’ve managed to avoid snow all this time, but I guess I got lucky this time.” He didn’t add that it felt that way since it meant that he got to spend time with Greg, but somehow, Holden thought Greg understood if the way his expression softened was any indication.
Their conversation paused as the car pulled to a stop in front of the bookstore, and they got out. As soon as they got inside the doors, Holden inhaled and grinned.
“I love the smell of books,” he said.
“Let me guess,” Greg said, “you were one of those nerds who was always reading.” The tease in his voice and sparkle in his eye made it clear he wasn’t criticizing.
