Sunday Snippet!

Today's Sunday snippet is from Jay's POV. He's trying out life as a gay man without any restrictions  for the first time in his life.


Yield
All Rights Reserved

“My name is Tom Finley.”

“Jay Blackstone.” I reached for a handshake. “Nice to meet you.”

“Can I buy you another drink?” he asked, pointing at my rapidly dwindling supply.

“If you’ll let me buy the next round.”

“You got it.”

By the time happy hour ended, I’d lost my newbie jitters and let Tom convince me to have dinner. We walked to a Mexican place a few streets over and exchanged basic information over a plate of appetizers consisting of jalapeño poppers, chips, guacamole, and salsa. My main course was cheese enchiladas topped with green sauce and sour cream—the cheapest selection on the menu. Tom ordered sizzling steak fajitas, a two-person platter, and insisted that I share. A good cut of meat was in short supply since I’d left the order, and I found myself piling sautéed onions, bell peppers, and garlic-infused beef into a freshly made corn tortilla. It was the best meal I’d had in a long time.

In between bites, Tom offered more background information. He was second-generation Irish, an English professor at the University of San Francisco, and a natural storyteller with a great sense of humor. I found myself falling under his spell despite my best intentions. It was easy to avoid comparisons to Sami as the two men were polar opposites. Tom’s positive vibes were radiant while Sami was a brooding mass of conflicting emotions. I wondered what it would be like to be in a relationship with someone like Tom, then quickly pushed the thought away. There was no logical reason to feel guilty, but I’d perfected the emotion to an art form.

Sami and I weren’t in a committed anything. Whatever I felt for him was buried in an avalanche of lust, lies, guilt, and anger. I would have given my left kidney to see or hear something bordering on affection, but I brought out the worst in the man. Two weeks had gone by since we’d parted ways, and he hadn’t bothered to text or pick up the phone. What was I supposed to think?

“What about you, Jay?” Tom asked, drawing me back to the moment. “Where have you been before tonight? I would have noticed you.”

“Long story,” I hedged.

Did I want to tell an Irish Catholic he was having dinner with an ex-priest? He’d turn tail and head for the nearest exist. Then again, he might be more sympathetic.

“I’ve got all night,” he said encouragingly.

I ducked my head, ashamed to keep looking into such earnest eyes. I changed my mind about spilling my guts. Tom was an average guy in a conventional job with ordinary expectations. His perception of me would shift the minute I shared my troubled past. I couldn’t risk ruining what I now considered a perfect first date.

“Maybe another time.”

He looked disappointed, but it was better to end the evening on a positive note. “May I have your number?” he asked hesitantly.

“Of course,” I replied.

He entered the info into his smartphone, and I received a familiar ping as he texted me.

“Go ahead and answer so we’re connected.”

I obeyed without protesting.

“Do you live around here?”

“Close enough.”

“Is it okay if I walk you home?”

“Tom….”

“No pressure, Jay. Just another stroll in the moonlight.”

Another? If he only knew that I’d never been on a real date or walked home with anyone, he’d think he was in the presence of an alien. It was the main reason I nodded my head instead of trying to come up with a believable excuse to keep him at arm’s length.

And, by God, it was refreshing. To be with someone who didn’t think twice about clasping my hand as we walked down the street, pointing out iconic gay landmarks, and marveling at the bravery of people like Harvey Milk who’d died to make life easier for all of us. I couldn’t contribute to the conversation, nor did I feel entitled to be a part of the collective us. I’d been a closeted mess far too long, but Tom’s easygoing manner soothed me, and he didn’t require any of my input as he rambled on about the Castro District.

At my front door, I let him kiss me good night. It was a sweetly chaste kiss, and my body responded to the unfamiliar tenderness. It was a revelation, and I almost invited him in, but I didn’t.

“This was fun,” Tom said.

“It was great,” I murmured. “Thanks for being such a gentleman.”

He thumbed my lower lip. “Does this mean I get to see you again?”

“Yes, call me.”

He smiled. “I will.”

I unlocked the door and walked into the empty apartment. Instead of turning on the lights, I lit a few votive candles on the small altar. They danced to life, and I knelt and bowed my head, giving thanks for Tom, an unexpected bonus I didn’t feel I deserved.

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YIELD IS THE FIFTH BOOK IN THE BAY AREA PROFESSIONAL SERIES BUT IT CAN BE READ AS A STANDALONE.

You can purchase Yield on AMAZON or read for free on KU. Check out some of the reviews on Goodreads and add it to your TBR shelf.