Page 8 of Budding Attraction

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“Relax, Orson. Grown-ass men can have dinner together. He does it with Barney at least once a month.”

“Leif’sBarney?” I don’t know why that’s so unexpected. Of course Ford has friends. He’s always lived here, so he likely knows everyone. Barney and Art are the ones who started the Divorced Men’s Club together, and Barney … he doesn’t strike me as the type of guy who could handle Ford. Friend or otherwise. “I didn’t know Ford and Barney were close.”

“Eh, they went on a date before Barney and Leif were a thing.”

A date? Of course they did. “And … now they still get dinner together.”

“As friends. Which you’re apparently doing, though you kinda sound like you want to get into a pissing contest with Barney.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Can I give you advice?”

“Why are you asking when we both know you’re going to give it anyway?”

His sly grin crosses his face. “Don’t forget to douche.”

“Fuck you, man.”

“No, but for real. Payne’s found his man, Griff’s moving on with … whatever the hell Griff’s doing. Ever since you’ve gotten back here, you’ve laid low, and hey, not on me to judge your journey, but you lookexcitedover hanging out with Ford. That’s good. It’s breathing some life back into you.”

“Still straight.”

“I’m not saying this shit has to get romantic—though you’d be an idiot to draw some arbitrary straight line in the sand, if you start realizing there’s more there—just pointing out that friendships can be strong too. And important.”

“Course they are. Why do you think I haven’t managed to shake you yet?” It’s easier to address the main point than his random segue.Ifthere’s more. Straight men don’t randomly turn queer. Not for one man. Well, I’m sure there are some exceptions, but it’s not the rule. And I’m not anexceptionskind of guy.

Butif—and that’s a very strong if—there was something … maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing.

I haven’t slept with anyone since getting back here. It’s been a lot of long, lonely years on that front, and I’m hesitant to break my celibacy for just anyone. I’ve done the cheap hookups and one-night stands. The self-destructive sex for the sake of a high. It only left me feeling like dirt, and I made the decision that I’d never go back there.

So the thought of exploring more with anyone—let alone another man—is overwhelming. I can’t picture it. It’s been way too long since relationships were on my radar. So I revert to my default when things get too much; I let time happen and be there for the ride.

My eyes catch on the old clock above the bar. “Fuck. I should probably go down.”

“Yep.” Art rounds the bar to plant both hands on my shoulders. “You’re a strong, independent man. You got this.”

I slap his hands away. “Maybe if I make friends with Ford, I can finally rid myself of you and your motivational quotes.”

“I’m like herpes. Once you have me, there’s no turning back.”

I chuckle as I walk away. “Do you hear yourself sometimes?”

“All the time. I love the sound of my own voice.”

I flick him a wave as I carry my ginger ale down the stairs, leaving him behind on the deserted mezzanine level. The bar below is already busy, and I purposely don’t look around to see if he’s here yet because if he is and he’s watching me, there’s every chance I’ll trip over my own feet and end up sprawled at the bottom of the stairs.

Whose bright idea was Friday night? Friday nights aredatenights. I’d been so confident the other day, strutting into his office like I owned the place, and now … I laugh at my stupidity. What am I even thinking? This obviously isn’t a date when I have no interest in him like that. Damn, I need to get out of my head.

And not a minute too soon. I spot Ford sitting at a bar table across the room, talking with the guy who’s stopped beside him.

He’s kinda familiar-looking. Feminine name, I think. Pretty. Younger. And … touching Ford’s arm. All my attention narrows in on the supposedly casual gesture.

Stamping down my irritation, I slide onto the stool across from Ford. “I’m barely two minutes late and you’re replacing me already.”

His attention snaps from …Molly—that’s it—and lands square on me. “You should see what I can do with three.”

“I’m terrified already.”


Tags: Saxon James Romance