You Are the Reason Read Free Page A

She looked me up and down with her light brown eyes before she gave me a coy smile. “Buy me drink?”
    She was cute—just not my type. Apart from the lack of a penis, she was so girly it made my back teeth ache. “Sure. But only so’s you know? I’m gay.”
    I motioned to Charlie to refill her glass and watched her from the corner of my eye for her reaction. Her smile didn’t falter. “That’s okay. I don’t mind.”
    She didn’t? She turned back to the other patrons of the bar. The dance floor had started to fill up, and there were at least thirty people attempting to move in time to the music. Only a few managed it. Lack of sobriety or lack of ability. I wasn’t quite sure which.
    “Do you have a boyfriend?” she asked me.
    “No.”
    “Why not? You’re ultracute.”
    I scoffed at that. In truth, I was pretty average—and that was the way I liked it. I liked that you couldn’t tell I was gay by just looking at me. I didn’t do the hair or the clothes. I was simply Dave. Six foot one, with a trim body, and short, spiky brown hair. Jeans and a T-shirt were my look. I worked in sales, so I was well groomed—no nose hair, fingernails neatly trimmed, nothing awkward piercing my skin.
    But I never, ever, ever would want to think I’m cute . Lee was cute—she had the pixie thing going on. Maxine was cute—baby cute. Puppies and kittens and newborn lambs were cute. I was offended to think she put me in the same category.
    “I’m not in the market for a boyfriend,” I growled.
    She didn’t back off. I liked that. “Oh, well. What sort of guy do you go for?” she asked in a conversational tone. I rolled my eyes and didn’t answer. She was sweet, and I didn’t want to disgust her by telling her my type was simply someone with a penis who would bottom for me. She didn’t drop the subject. “Who? The guy on the door?”
    “Sav?” I questioned. “No. Apart from being straight—which me and my nose now know—I’m not really into the muscle scene.” I once had a guy who was. The day he overpowered me and pinned me to the bed, grinning and telling me he was about to have a piece of my arse, was the day I kicked him out of my house and never saw him again. If I were going to open my arse for a guy, it would be because I loved him, not because he held me down and forced me.
    “What about him?” she asked, motioning to an attractive little thing on the edge of the dance floor.
    I looked him over. He was good-looking and definitely gay. The rainbow on his T-shirt proclaimed it loudly. He had short, bleached hair and cute little rosebud mouth that reminded me of Maxine. My interest spiked. I could definitely see him as a bottom boy. “I wouldn’t say no to that,” I replied to Lee.
    “Go for it, then,” she encouraged.
    I put my tongue back in my head and gathered my best flirty grin. “Okay.” I glanced at her glass, which Charlie had refilled, but she shooed me off.
    “Go on. Thanks for the drink. Have fun.”
    So I went for it. He was encouraging, and I worked it hard—for twenty minutes. I tried to get him to follow me to the toilets, outside to the alley, to my car, or even to my house. But he didn’t bite. Finally he kissed me on the cheek, waved good-bye, and left with his friends.
    Shit.
    I returned to the bar and found Lee still sitting there, with no sign of Bobby.
    “Struck out?” she asked sympathetically.
    “Yeah,” I grumped.
    “Oh, well. What about him?”
    The guy she pointed out was encouraging too. He was throwing me interested glances, so I smiled back and watched him flush red. He was older than me and had the “librarian” look going on, but it was sexy. He could read me Dickens any day. I licked my lips in his direction and wondered if beneath that nerdy exterior he was into kinky shit. He almost melted.
    Until his boyfriend came over, kissed his lips, entwined their fingers together, and totally cockblocked me.
    Shit!
    “Err….”
    I’d forgotten that Lee was