Chapter Seven #2
I chuckle. “I’ll take that as a compliment. I’m almost thirty-four. Will be in a couple of months. I share the same birthday as Cupid.” And Ev and Brooks’ anniversary, which I’m still a little miffed over.
He grins. “Pretty sure Valentine’s Day isn’t Cupid’s birthday, but I like your sense of humor. Also, you should take it as a compliment. You look good.”
“Same could be said for you. Don’t tell me, you’re so fit that you look like you’re in your mid-thirties, but you’re really some secret silver fox? Don’t think I don’t see a few grays in that freakishly hot head of hair you’ve got in there.”
He laughs and cards his fingers through it, and I can’t help but bat away the thought that he and Gordy have the same hairstyle.
Just a touch longer on top, shaved at the sides, and hot no matter how you look at it.
But I’m not thinking about how I’d rather be here tonight with surly, hetero Gordy.
No, tonight I’m here to simply put some feelers out for experimentation with someone who is into men.
“I’m forty,” Micah says, dragging me from my distracted thoughts.
I nod, and from there we fall into easy conversation.
After a bit, the waiter interrupts us to take our orders.
To be honest, I haven’t even had a chance to look over the menu, since Micah and I have been effortlessly chatting with one another.
I will say, however, for this not being a date, it is starting to feel rather date-esque.
Whatever, if we’re going to get a "workout" in later, perhaps he needs the fuel. I know I’m down for some carb-loading, hence why I chose the place.
It had little to do with the view of the bay, because studying Micah—specifically feeling out Blackbeard’s desire to walk Micah’s plank—was the only thing I planned on doing.
“So, circling back to what we were talking about before,” I say, once the waiter leaves. “When did you realize you were—gay? Bi?” Inquiring minds need answers here.
“Gay,” he confirms, taking a sip from his glass of water.
After he swallows, and I take note of the way his Adam’s apple bobs in his neck—something I’ve never taken note of before, but definitely will again—he adds, “And I guess I’ve just always known.
When I first started developing crushes, I noticed it was only ever with guys.
And I had a lot of girl friends when I was younger, ones who had crushes on me, but I never felt the same way back. ” He shrugs.
“Wouldn’t you think that I would have always known?” I ask. “I mean, shouldn’t it be like that? You just… know?”
He ponders that for a beat. “Nah. Not necessarily, I mean. I grew up in an area that was generally pretty tolerant of the rainbow community. Not like here. My gosh, living here has taught me how conservative a place can be. I can see why, even subconsciously, it would be possible to deny yourself the kind of exploration you’re doing tonight.
If I’m being completely honest, there are more queer people here than you’d think, they’re all just too scared to come out.
Luckily, your brother’s admission has started to change that.
This is the first time I’ve openly been on a date here in Ternbay.
I’m at a point in my life where I’m over hooking up with men around here in total secrecy, you know? ”
He doesn’t even look away from the sunset, however, before he sighs and adds, “Turns out, the guys I was seeing were married with kids, and the only thing they were looking to explore was the pathway to my tonsils. I’m over being a side-piece, thank you.”
I nearly spit out my drink of water as his statement about this being a date crashes into me like an errant wave.
I thought we were on the same page here, but, apparently, my subtleties were a little too subtle.
Fuck, now I’m going to feel like a complete asshole if I tell him that’s all I was looking for too. I thump on my chest and cough.
“Oh, gosh!” Micah’s eyes widen. “Are you alright?”
“Fine,” I croak, taking another sip.
Welp, what’s one date, right? Maybe I could entertain this a little, I guess.
Would it be so wrong, if I did do a little takesie-backsie on that vow to never do relationships again?
I can be mature enough to admit that I may have been having a bitterness-fueled temper tantrum at the time that I made that oath.
If I do a real-quick deep dive into myself, do I really want to be a perpetual bachelor forever?
Not particularly.
“Nor should you be kept secret. You seem like a great guy,” I finally confess, after collecting myself.
His cheeks flare with a tinge of pink. “Thank you. As do you.”
“And, full disclosure up front,” I continue, reaching across the table to take his hand in mine. “I was formerly married, and I do have kids,” I admit, squeezing his hand. “But if it turns out I’m attracted to men, I won’t hide in shame. My girls deserve a positive example of self-confidence.”
His eyes widen as he yanks his hand back. “You have kids?”
I wince. “Is that a dealbreaker? Because they are my world…”
“Oh, gosh no,” Micah balks, shaking his head vehemently. “I, uhm, I just never pictured myself… and kids. Don’t take this the wrong way, though. I—I just…” he trails off, sighing heavily. “This is just a first date. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
I nod, trying to cover up the discomfort I now feel with the impression that Micah isn’t into seeing a single father.
While I only have the girls part-time, they’re a huge part of the package deal with me.
But, he’s right, this is just me dipping my toes into the water here.
Unlike my ex-wife, with her Steven Stephens, I don’t plan on introducing any potential relationship interests to my girls until I’m sure it’s going somewhere.
Suck on that for maturity, Sarah.
In addition to the not being big on kids thing, there ends up being another hitch in the giddy-up tonight.
Micah told me all about his aspirations to someday transfer ownership of his Forge Fitness franchise to someone else so he can move down to the city and really get into MMA training more.
I refuse to commit to anything long-distance, and I’m in no place to follow him out of Ternbay.
My life is here. I have built my business on these waters. My girls are here. I don’t want to disrupt the flow I’ve got going, sharing custody of them.
But, again, that’s getting a little ahead of things.
First and foremost, I agreed to tonight to figure out myself in the here and now.
To get some answers about my own sexuality.
However, now that he’s dropping me off back at Portside and plastering me with a hot-as-sin kiss, all I’m left with is more questions.
Like, for example, what in the hell I’m going to do with this new profound attraction to men?
It’s obvious, gauging by Blackbeard’s sudden appearance during the kiss, that I didn’t mind locking lips with another guy—and it wasn’t just adrenaline that made me wish we’d taken that kiss further.
But, while I was aroused by it, there was a distinct lack of spark between us otherwise.
So, do I take him up on the offer for another date? What if that spark never ignites?
I don’t want to force a connection that isn’t there, and the last thing I want Micah to think is that I’m just another one of those boneheads that used him before.
He made it abundantly clear tonight that he’s over all that.
Rightfully so, he’s a good guy—he just might be better for someone else.
Someone who isn’t totally inexperienced, like myself.
I’d never want to lead someone on all in the name of sexual exploration.
So, yeah. I send Micah off with a promise that I’d text him with a response regarding a repeat date, because there’s no way I can make that call right now.
I definitely need more time to think. Hell, I wasn’t even open to dating again before tonight, and I’m still not sure if I want to before I have all my other shit figured out.
When he pulls away, I sigh and debate whether or not I want to numb this indecision with a drink.
Keeping my resolve and choosing to go upstairs instead, I spare a glance through the front window of the pub.
Now I’m left with one more very interesting, question—which is why the hell do I feel so fucking guilty about apparently just having been caught with my tongue down Micah’s throat?
Because the way Gordy’s glaring at me right now, with nothing but sheer bitterness in his expression, I’d say he just caught that entire heated make-out session.
Fuck.