Prologue

Six months ago

"And you're sure hes my type?" I ask Remy. I'm not sure if I actually have a type and have no idea why I just asked my friends that question, but I'm also lying to myself. I do have a type; I'm just not admitting it to myself.

"Considering you've never told us the type of guys you like, how the hell are we supposed to know? You only told us you were gay last year," Remy replies.

Remy and Ambrose are two of my closest friends and the first people I came out to. They pretended to be shocked, but were then like, "we had our suspicions", and it had been a relief just telling someone.

"True. So, what's he like?" I ask Remy, who was the one that organized all this. I need more details on my date.

"His name is Rory. Same age as you, smart, and he seems friendly enough."

Okay, I can do this, and I know that my friends wouldn't set me up with some type of psychopath. I need to get out of my own head and straight into the gay dating pool. I think the string of one-night stands I've had were me trying to confirm to myself that I was, in fact, gay. Which I know makes no sense. I have never been that attracted to women. Don't get me wrong, I have found women beautiful, there's just never been a spark. But men, well that's a different ball game altogether. Men would invade my dreams, and I would often wake up with a hard on because I had been dreaming about one of the players on a football team.

Yet I still thought these fantasies would go away. That I was straight. Finally, I had needed to experiment, and I went to a gay club with one of my very openly gay friends. They had always asked me to go along, saying that loads of other straight people went, and the club was just a fun place to unwind. That didn't matter. I had always refused, but then I didn't, and it was pretty life changing. I had danced with a very buff man, who had asked if I wanted to go into the back. What proceeded to happen then, was that I got the most fantastic blow job of my life. The feel of the mans stubble against my skin was like nothing I had ever experienced before – confirming I was, in fact, gay.

"He knows that you guys are here too, right?" I suddenly ask. I know that I agreed to come on this date, but I really hope that this Rory doesn't think that it was going to be just the two of us.

"Yeah, he knows. Actually, he thought it was a good idea too," Ambrose replies.

"Good."

We had decided to come to the local bar. Being mid-week, we knew that it was going to be quiet, so there would be more chances of us getting a table. Luckily, this place happens to be my favorite. The bartenders are getting to know me and it's really nice.

I can't remember why I started coming here, but I think that Papa mentioned it once. It sounded like my type of place, so when I moved into the city about a month ago, I made sure that it was one of the first places I visited. The beer had been good, but it was the soft jazz music that made me keep coming back.

My normal place to sit is at the bar, it's much easier to talk to the bartenders when you're close to them. Like tonight, my favorite one, Trip, is working. He was working the first night I came in, and greeted me with a huge welcoming smile. Maybe if I looked closely, he was the reason that I came back here so often in the beginning, but I was never brave enough to ask for his number. He was probably straight anyway.

Tonight though, we pick a table off to the side and take our seats. I consider going up to the bar to get us all drinks, but decide that it's better to wait for Rory to arrive and then get the drinks. I want to try and make a good first impression.

"Rory! Over here," Remy shouts.

Hearing the sound of his name, I twist in my chair to get the first look at my date. He is handsome, tall with a shock of curly brown hair, and I hoped I would feel a jolt of attraction, but nope. Maybe as the evening progresses things will change. But I have a feeling that he will be making the friends list.

As Rory reaches us, I get up from my seat and am suddenly not sure if I should shake his hand or give him a hug. There is no manual for going on your first date when you're in your early twenties. This uncertainty is normally something that happens in high school. You kind of figure the shit out together. Thankfully, Rory seems to know what to do.

"Hi," he states, pulling me into a hug. Again, I hoped this might cause a spark and that Rory might finally get me to stop thinking about a certain someone that I can't have. Falling for the straight guy is never ideal, but when the straight guy is also kinda family, that's even worse. You can't escape them.

"Drinks?" I suddenly ask the table, needing a few minutes to collect myself.

"Beer is fine," Rory states as he pulls out the chair next to mine and sits down.

Walking over to the bar I see Trip watching me, or more accurately, watching Rory.

"Everything okay?" I ask as I get to him.

"You know him?" Trip asks me.

"Um, not really, but my friends do. They wanted to introduce me. Why?" I ask.

"Oh right. I thought I hadn't seen him before. But that's why they want to introduce him," Trip replies.

"My friends thought I could use another friend, I guess," I tell him, even though this would have been an ideal time to come out. Instead I ask, "Can I get four bottles of beer?" to distract him.

"Shit, sorry. Yeah, coming right up," Trip replies, and turns to the fridges behind him, pulling out bottles and placing them in front of me. I can't help but smile at Trip's language. When I first started coming here, he was always so professional, but one night he slipped up and swore. I burst out laughing and said it was fine. Since then, he has been more laid back.

Handing over a bill, I pick up the bottles, two in each hand, and make my way back over to the table, placing them on the surface.

"Here you go," I say.

"Can I introduce you now?" Remy asks, giving me a not-so-subtle side eye at running off to the bar.

Shit. I ran away to the bar so quickly, introductions couldn't be done.

"Rory, this is the guy I was telling you about. This is Danil."