Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 99918 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99918 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
“Got it. Anything else?” Leo asked.
“No, we’re fine,” Tristan answered.
“Yes, you two sure are,” Leo purred, winking at Tristan before leaving the table. Tristan looked around the room, nodding at a couple by the bar, then at another guy dancing on the small dance floor on the other side of the bar. The music was subtle with a seventies feel. Dylan let himself survey his surroundings, but he didn’t keep his focus on anyone for too long. As he scanned the room, he noticed almost everyone looked their way. It took a second for him to realize most of the clientele were older and more than one wore a wedding band.
“You come here regularly?” Dylan asked. This actually wasn’t that bad of a place. He wouldn’t want anyone to know he’d voluntarily come here, but he’d expected something completely different.
“Yes, and you have to have a membership. Very exclusive. No one should know you. What happens here, stays here. Confidentiality’s required,” Tristan said casually, sitting back and relaxing as he loosened his tie even farther and rolled up his sleeves. “I’m sure quite a few of these men are married to women.”
“I noticed the wedding bands, but it’s hard to tell nowadays. Do you hide?” Dylan asked, not necessarily ready to give up the panic, but willing to at least listen.
“Not even a little bit, but I get why you do,” Tristan said, giving him a wink.
“I haven’t admitted to anything.” Dylan hoped he didn’t sound too defensive as he looked away and back out over the bar.
“No, you haven’t,” Tristan agreed as their drinks were placed in front of him. “Keep ’em coming, Leo.”
“He doesn’t say much.” Leo inclined his head toward Dylan.
“He will. He’s new. We just have to make him feel comfortable.” Tristan took a drink.
“Then drink up, the alcohol really helps. Tristan’s a good guy. He’ll make sure you get home in one piece,” Leo urged, grinning down at him. Dylan completely closed up at those words. No way was he commenting on any of this. Leo chuckled and gave Tristan a fist bump before he left.
“He’s about the same age as my daughter.”
“No, he’s not. He’s twenty-seven and no way you’re old enough to have a daughter that age.”
The guy looked much younger. “I’m thirty-seven,” Dylan admitted. Tristan lifted his glass.
“See? Honesty’s a good thing.”
“You’re younger than I am.” Dylan ignored the last comment.
Tristan smiled as he swallowed. “I am, but not by much. So, tell me, how did you end up with a wife and three children?”
Dylan took a drink of the water, but Tristan pushed the 7 and 7 over to him. “It’s really okay. No one will ever know you were here. We’re just two work associates having a drink.”
Dylan stared at him long and hard before he picked up the drink. “Teri was my girlfriend in college. She was also my best friend, still is. We partied hard together all the time. My college days are a little hazy. Partying, denial, and lots of alcohol have been a part of everything wrong with my life. I decided alcohol gave me something to hide behind. Still does, I guess.” He took a long drink.
“What’s that mean?” Tristan asked quietly.
“I liked drinking. Perhaps a little too much. You know, it helped me hide all those confusing feelings when I was younger,” Dylan answered honestly.
“So, you do or don’t drink because you are or aren’t an alcoholic?” Tristan asked, clearly confused. Dylan got he wasn’t making any sense. He’d never admitted any of this out loud before.
He had at least a dozen or more drinks tonight already. He could see how Tristan had gotten the wrong idea, but his nerves needed a crap load of calming by the time they’d arrived at their earlier venue. Then between the attraction he felt for Tristan and the strip club, his limits had really been pushed. This was exactly why he planned his life so carefully.
“I really don’t drink much anymore. I don’t think I was an alcoholic, I mean…I didn’t have to have a drink. Things were just easier when I did. I never acted drunk so I could hide how much I was actually drinking. I ended up getting my college girlfriend pregnant—three times before I was twenty-one—and I honestly don’t remember much about that time in my life. Thanks to this.” Dylan held up his 7 and 7 that he was drinking much slower now. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my family and I’m thankful for them. I absolutely wouldn’t be here talking to Wilder, Inc. about a buyout without them.”
“You don’t have to hide around me. I’m not going to judge you,” Tristan added, clearly trying to keep Dylan talking in order to fill in the holes to this crazy story.
“How did you know about me?”
“I wasn’t a hundred percent sure until right now. But the way you avoided my eyes at the strip club when I told you I was gay made me guess,” Tristan answered. “I can’t promise you enough that your secret’s safe with me. Based on what you’re saying though, I’m surely not the only one who knows.”
“No. My wife knows.” Dylan ran his finger down the side of his glass, leaving a trail through the condensation gathered there.
Tristan’s head tilted and his eyes narrowed as if he were trying to absorb that little bit of knowledge before he finally spoke. “This gets weirder and weirder.”
“Not so much. At least I don’t think so. I woke up one day and I had three kids and a wife. Both of us were still in college and I was working my ass off trying to do what I thought I needed to do. We were broke as hell, but making it work. I just couldn’t lie to her any longer so we had a heart-to-heart. I told her I was gay. She eventually took it all in stride. She’s an amazing woman. We decided to raise the kids together, get our education, and when they grew up, we’d still be young and could go our separate ways, get on with our lives.”