12. Can We Get Another Date?: Larry

The cruise was coming up on us fast. But I wanted another date before that happened. I wanted at least one more night with him. Because it would be over after that, and I didn't want it to end. Ever. But I didn't know how to convince him.

I almost blew it, trying to kiss him. I needed to prove I respected him above everything else. He wasn't going to give me a third chance at that. At that stupid birthday party, I gave him strike one by blurting out the first thing that came to mind. I wasn't doing that again for sure, but what else could I do?

I was such a loser. I was going to mess up everything, and I was sick to death of walking around my lonely apartment worrying about it. And yet, here I was, one more time. I couldn't sleep the night before. I couldn't choke down my breakfast. I kept thinking about the day before on the boat. It was glorious. I was allowed to hold his hand, so I did a few times. I even put my arm around him when we saw the dolphins, and I was convinced he belonged there beside me.

Damn, that little mother fucker was going to break my heart—I was falling too hard, too fast.

Fucking it up was inevitable. Why did I try? This was exactly like the time I dated Blake. I tried too hard, and he saw right through me. He laughed in my face when I asked him to move in with me. He knew I was a failure right through to my core. He was the last one. Since then, I only had two dates and maybe some sex, anonymous, faceless, and meaningless. Eh, once or twice. Serious wasn't in my cards. After Blake, I was the one who ran. But now, I wanted to stop running, but would Todd?

Not when I failed at everything important. Failed to keep my family together. My brothers got the fuck away from me as soon as they could. My parents divorced. I hadn't even told them I was gay, afraid to be labeled. Afraid of the unknown, afraid of everything. Afraid of Todd's kinks. Afraid of mine.

I was never going to stop feeling like this if I didn't stop acting like this.

Grabbing my phone off my desk, I headed into the living room and pulled up his number, sucking it up and tapping it as I slid back on my favorite spot on the couch.

Todd answered, "Hey. What's up?"

"Hi, cutie. I had fun yesterday."

"Yeah. I liked it."

"Good. So…I was thinking…"

"Yeah?"

"Let's go out. Tonight. Something simple, just you and me. Or you could come over, and we can have a quiet dinner in. What do you say?"

Silence. I lost him. Why?

"It sounds nice, Larry," he finally said. "But… I have an interview tomorrow, and I need to get ready for the cruise, you know? You still picking me up for that?"

"Yeah, uh…Yeah, sure. Of course."

"Okay. See you then."

I sat there staring at my phone. This was never going to work. My careless words ruined everything before I ever had a chance.

I looked around my pricey condo. I owned it outright—no mortgage. I owned my car. I had millions. I made multi-million dollar deals all the time. And I didn't truly enjoy any of it. How could I? My dad was right. I was a loser. He told me that a million times, and despite trying so-so-so hard to prove him wrong, I was still sitting here in the middle of this wealth alone. Always alone.