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I need to find a way to stop my parents’ demands for good, but how? Bastards though they are, I don’t want to physically hurt them. They’d deserve it, but no.
What the fuck am I gonna do?
Muttering to myself like a crazy person, I put away the groceries and scratch the back of my head as I consider my blind date.
Almost blind. Gary is the guy’s name. I have a vague memory of dirty blond hair and white, straight teeth. Not really my type.
Oh come on, Raine, since when do you have a type?
Since Jason, that same smug little voice replies, and fucking awesome, now I’m arguing with myself. Bring on the straitjacket.
Besides, Jason’s not my type. I like clean-cut, sporty… normal guys. Guys who might be a bit shy, a bit careful. Not careful with me, just… Just not guys like me. No trailer park trash who barely attended school and don’t deserve a chance in life. I want a guy who’s better than me, a guy who’ll show me the way, somehow.
Christ, I dunno what I’m talking about.
I need to find clothes. And do something about my hair. And probably shave, too.
Getting into the mood wouldn’t hurt, either. Like, this could be fun. He could turn out to be a great guy, just the thing, in fact, to take my mind off Jason. He could turn out to be the guy, the one, someone I could be with, share my life with.
I grimace. Really?
I shake my head at that as I scratch at my three days’ worth of beard and grab my electric razor. I buzz down my cheeks, lift my chin to do the trickier parts.
Whatever. I’ll just meet the guy, grab something to eat, have a drink. What would it hurt? He obviously struck me as a nice guy, or I wouldn’t have given him my phone number in the first place. Plus, it will get Seth off my case for not dating.
Yeah, I have one of Collateral’s tattoo artists pushing me to go on a date before I grow too fucking old for sex. That, by the way, is because Seth doesn’t believe in luck anymore, not since his run of bad luck finally ended when he met his girl, and now he keeps pushing me to take my fate into my own hands.
Ass.
I’m chuckling, though, remembering his teasing, and by the time I finish shaving, I’m ready to get this show on the road and be done with it. I shower, then I shove my hand into my closet and pull out a random T-shirt and pants.
Or should I wear a button-down shirt? Where the hell are we going?
I walk buck-naked into the living room to re-check the text message Gary Whatever-his-last-name-is sent, and find out we’re meeting at a fancy tapas place quite a distance from here.
Cursing under my breath, I go back to my closet and grab one of my two button-down shirts. It’s a blue one, and with a pair of black jeans one can’t go wrong, right? Sadly, despite what most people think, the gay gene doesn’t always come with a sense of fashion, so I have some standard colors I buy, and I stick to sensible combos. Blue jeans. Gray and black T-shirts. Blue shirts.
Okay. Black shoes, and I’m set. I run a hand through my hair, realize it’s overdue for a cut, then I think, fuck it, and go out the door before nerves get the better of me.
The place is a bitch to find, and parking is a pain in the nuts. I drive around looking for a spot in Zane’s old pick-up truck that I picked up cheap when he decided to get a minivan for his kids.
He actually bought the minivan, even though he still only has one kid, which is damn funny, but hey, the guy wants many kids and has it all thought out.
Respect.
At last I find a spot, lock up the truck and jog to the restaurant, hating that I’m late. It’s raining again, and it reminds me of Jason huddled at the shop entrance, shivering, then sitting across from me in the coffee shop, dark eyes blazing. Did he make it home all right? Wherever that is.
Then I have to remind myself that it’s none of my goddamn business how Jason got home, if he got home, and whether he caught fucking pneumonia or not.
None at all.
Thankfully my thoughts scatter when I enter the restaurant. I’m stopped by a guy who looks like a butler from an old movie who asks if I have a reservation.
Do I?
“I’m with Gary,” I say and then remember I don’t even know his last name.
Damn.
