Together: Erotic Romance

A longstanding unrequited attraction leads to mutual simmering desire

The lunch rush was anything but rushed. It was Tuesday so I hadn't expected much in the way of alcohol traffic at the pub. I polished the long wooden bar top for what felt like the hundredth time. The place was full, but very few people were drinking. It was the office crowd filling the pub. Government workers, lawyers, and business meetings making up the customer base.

Plus, it was only March. Cruise ship season was still months away. When those cruise ships started showing up in May, the city of Victoria would swell in population by three to four thousand people each day. We would be slammed, and I would walk away, pockets stuffed with cash from tips every single day. I just needed to survive until then.

My needs were simple. I had a bachelor's apartment close to where the pub was located downtown. I could walk to and from work. Except in winter when I opted for a taxi. Not that it got that cold here. Living on Vancouver Island meant our temperature swings were moderated by the Pacific Ocean. Other than the apartment, I wasn't one to spend a lot of money. I had a modest wardrobe. My only extravagant expenses were dining out and drinking with friends.

I hauled open the dishwasher and removed the first of the few glasses that needed to be put away. The usually overloaded machine looked sparse. I started with the pint glasses, wiping them down, and arranging them on the shelf above my head. At least the sun was shining. It was casting long rays of warmth across the bar top. I did a quick survey of the customers I had seated at the bar. Their drinks were topped up and they were halfway through their meals.

I pivoted when the small printer with my next order sprung to life. In addition to the few people I had sitting at the bar, I was the only one on bar duty available to fill the orders for the servers. They weren't allowed behind the bar. I started pulling the pints of beer requested.

"You have any plans for the weekend, Adam?"

Kelly tapped on the bar top as she waited for her order. She was one of the servers that had been with the pub for years. We had started around the same time. Seven years later …

"Working. I'm booked for Friday and Saturday night."

"I was surprised to see you dominating the schedule."

I sighed. Me too. But I needed the money. Rent was due next week, and I was barely going to have enough. Never mind eating. "Cash is running a bit low."

"I hear you." Kelly set the four pints I had pulled for her onto her tray. "I'm thinking about getting a roommate again. Now that I've recovered from the last one."

"Have you managed to repair all the damage?"

Kelly leaned against the counter, whispering. "I had to have someone come in on the sly to fix everything. If my landlord found out my place had been turned into a destruction zone, I would have probably been kicked out. Cost me a damned fortune."

"Maybe see if someone from work needs a place. At least you'll know them."

"That's what I'm thinking." She reached forward and touched my arm. "You looking?"

"Nah, I'm good. My little apartment suits me."

"Shame." Kelly shrugged. "Well, back to work for me. Talk later."

"Sure." I wiped down the counter where the damp pint glasses had been. My bar top mats were all in the dishwasher. Whoever had closed last night hadn't bothered to deal with them. I pulled them out, gave them a shake, and set them where the servers retrieved their drinks.

I looked toward the double entry doors and a familiar face appeared, bobbing toward the bar seating. Mark. He was a regular. Came in at least three times a week. He was an assistant of some kind over at the government buildings. I smiled, mirroring the grin he always seemed to have on his face. Mark was an optimist. We'd had many conversations about it during his lunches.

I set a menu in front of him as he slid onto a barstool facing me. Not that he needed it. Today being Tuesday meant he would be having the fish and chips and a pint of IPA.

"Good afternoon." Mark pushed the menu back toward me. "I won't be needing that." As he spoke, he watched me. His hazel eyes always had a glint in them that I found amusing. There was a mischievous streak beneath his incredible lashes.

"Fish and chips?"

"And an IPA"

I lifted the menu from the bar top and rung in his order. Having done that, I returned to him and leaned on the bar. He was beautiful to look at, Mark. Not just because he was always smiling. Although, that was a selling feature. No, Mark was classically gorgeous … like an Adonis.

Truth be told, he made my mouth water.

"Your week going all right?" I laid his cutlery in front of him.

"Busy. I have a lot of paperwork to catch up on. Not that I'm complaining. I like being busy. Keeps my mind occupied."

"Don't know that I could sit at a desk all day."

Mark laughed. "By the time I finish my daily workout routine, sitting down is a bonus."

I nearly groaned. I had no idea what Mark looked like under his business attire. He appeared damned fine in it and hearing he worked out every day sent tingles to my toes.

Of course, I wouldn't be doing anything about that. My attraction to Mark. My escapades with men remained firmly a casual thing I visited on very rare occasion. Besides, Mark was probably straight, and I wasn't out as gay. Even if I was out, I would never dare do anything as adventurous and risky as flirt with him. There were boundaries. Personal relationships and work didn't mix. Mark would remain firmly in the customer category.

Some of my other customers were finishing their lunches. I had laid their checks in front of them as soon as their food showed up. Most liked to make a quick exit so they could adhere to their one-hour lunch break. Credit cards were making appearances out of wallets.

"Back in a sec," I said to Mark and went to collect payments. That done, I returned to him. I'm sure there were other things I could be doing but I preferred to torture myself by remaining in his company while he was waiting for his food to arrive.

Mark took a sip of his beer. He always ordered a pint but never finished it. It was probably frowned upon at work to show up tipsy. I watched his lips as they encased the glass edge. Damn, but they were sensuous—full and wet. I went back to polishing the bar, needing to distract myself. It wouldn't be the first time my cock had taken interest in my observations of Mark.

Sometimes I dreamed about him. He was the best part of my week.

"Any plans for the weekend yet?" I asked.

The food runner set Mark's lunch in front of him. I placed a bottle of ketchup and a dispenser of malt vinegar on the bar for him. He liked the malt flavor on his fish. Ketchup on his fries.

"Cycling. Gonna head up into the mountains and hit some trails. You?"

"Working nights." I smiled at him. "Sleeping days."

Mark held a fry up and waved it at me. "Now see … I couldn't do that. I prefer my nine to five, Monday to Friday job. It's predictable. I can arrange the rest of my life around it."

"In my dreams."

"You have other career plans?" Mark cut into his fish, chopping it up, and dousing it in vinegar. His plate was swimming in the amber liquid by the time he finished shaking it on.

I shrugged. "I went to college. Got a basic degree. Majored in psychology." I looked around, taking in my surroundings. "This pays better than any job I could find."

Mark popped some fish into his mouth. He was even sexy when he chewed, exuding happiness and contentment. He nodded as he worked his way through his fish, emitting little happy chewing noises. He was adorable. I really should have left him alone to eat, but I couldn't pull myself away. There was something extra sultry about him today. Perhaps it was his cologne.

I had to leave him to it when the hostess seated two people at my bar. The new customers had questions. Lots of them. By the time I was finished with them, Mark was polishing off the last of his lunch. He lifted his check. As usual, I had given him a fifteen percent discount. It was at my discretion, the discount. I liked to reward my regulars. Keep them coming back.

Mark withdrew cash from his wallet. That was another habit of his. He always paid in cash … and he tipped well. As a government employee, he must be making some decent coin.

"See you Thursday?" I took the cash. He wouldn't be expecting change.

"Nah." Mark shook his head. "I'm taking a few days off work. I have friends coming into town tonight—they're staying a few days. I want to spend some time with them."

"See you next week then." I gave him a cocky salute. He turned away, then turned back.

"Wouldn't miss it." He winked at me then headed for the door.

I just about melted. It had been casual—strictly friendly, the wink, but it had fired up my imagination. The rest of the afternoon, I was distracted. The man could turn my insides to jelly.

Heading home, I replayed our conversation, wishing I was into cycling. I sighed as I reached my door. And what would I do with that? Invite myself along on his weekend of mountain biking? That would be crossing the boundary. I had no intention of doing that.

I flicked on my lights and looked around my small apartment. It was tidy, at least. I threw my keys on the kitchen counter. A nap and dinner were on the slate, then I was going out with friends—hitting the bars. It was essentially my weekend now. I didn't work again until Thursday. Another lunch shift. I usually looked forward to it, having Mark come in for his Thursday shepherd's pie. Now I would be denied that pleasure.

I stripped out of my work clothes. Hung everything up. They would do for one more shift before everything needed to be washed. I slung myself onto the bed and closed my eyes. Sleep descended on me pretty quick. I had been at work since eight that morning and had completed an eight-hour shift. And I hadn't slept well last night. It had been a struggle to get through the day.

My alarm went off at six-thirty. I rolled over in bed and looked at my phone. I almost didn't want to get up, but I had promised I would go out tonight. Once I got there and started drinking, I would be fine. It was just garnering the motivation to have a shower and get ready.

The shower invigorated me. By the time I was dressed and fussing with my hair in the mirror, I was raring to go. I examined my face. I liked the way I looked. Dark hair, sensuous brown eyes, and a short stubbly beard were reflected at me. I had been called handsome on occasion.

I turned my head side to side, fastening simple gold earrings in my ears. I wasn't allowed to wear them at work, but I liked dressing myself up to go out.

It was one of the few signals I allowed myself to hint at my sexuality. I'm sure a few of the women from work, some of whom I was going out with tonight, had figured it out. Probably some of the guys as well. I was often teased about my lack of girlfriends. I explained it by saying how I had nothing to offer a woman. That I preferred being single.

Everyone seemed to buy it. Or moved on without pressing me further anyway.

The truth was, I was desperate for a real relationship. To find that guy that completed me. I was lonely. But the thought of coming out terrified me. Terrified me into singleness. Sure, I hooked up with guys occasionally. But ever so carefully and usually when I was out of town.

I headed out into the night. There was a chill in the air, my black leather bomber jacket offering me little protection from the wind. I would take a taxi home once the night was through.

The streets were empty until you reached downtown. Tuesday was industry night, a night when people in the hospitality industry were entitled to cheap drinks. The downtown core was buzzing. Drunk people would soon be zigzagging across the roads from bar to bar.

I met my friends outside a Scottish pub we liked to frequent, Bard and Banker. There were four of us tonight. Scott, Tiffany, Kelly, and Pam. Two had been called into work at the last minute. As usual, the women outnumbered the men. Perils of working in the restaurant industry.

Scott was new to the group. He had only been working with us for six weeks. He was a riot—a good addition to the team. I headed for him first and shook his hand in greeting. The women all hugged me. Front-of-house hospitality was a powder-keg of stress. We had all become close.

Pam and Scott seemed closer than the rest of us. She kept grasping Scott's arm. It seemed they had paired up already. That was the way of things, co-workers often ended up dating. Hints had been dropped on my doorstep a few times by women at work. I always politely declined.

A group of men wandered by, and I gave them a sidelong glance. I could look. Look but not touch. We piled into the pub and joined the fray. We were lucky to find a seat.

"How has everyone's week been?" Pam started.

"Crazy," Tiffany answered.

"That's because you have two jobs," Scott said.

"Have to. My job as a legal assistant doesn't bring in the cash that serving does."

It went on like that. Talking about work. Talking about romantic frustrations. Talking about family. That last one, I preferred to bow out of. My family was a topic of contention. They were disappointed in me. What I was doing with my life, career-wise. My apartment. How I wasn't married yet. They were a bit old-fashioned and being that I was their only child, they expected a lot out of me. Bartending and single wasn't how they had imagined me living my life.

"You're quiet tonight." Kelly passed me my third beer of the evening.

"Tired."

"Well, drink up," Scott said. "We'll finish these and head to our next destination." He lifted his glass in cheers. We all clinked glasses and drained our pints.

The next stop was a nightclub. Paparazzi. Pam and Tiffany had been insistent that they wanted to go dancing. After that would be a karaoke bar. I wouldn't be crawling home until at least three. Stamina—it was all about stamina. And at twenty-seven, I was running slim on that.

The nightclub was packed. We shoved our way through the crowds, headed for the bar. I would be sticking with beer, but the rest of my party was switching to shots. It was going to be a messy night. Getting everyone aimed toward home safely later would likely fall to me.

I had another two beers then joined in on a couple of shots. Then a cocktail. I was on my way back to where my friends were standing at the side of the dance floor when I slammed into someone and spilled half of my drink onto their shirt. A second splatter landed on the floor.

I looked up into a shocked pair of hazel eyes … Mark.

"Jeez, Mark … I'm sorry," I shouted above the loud music.

Mark attempted to sweep some of the liquid off his shirt. "It's all right," he yelled in my direction. "Accident." He pointed toward the washrooms. "I can dry it out."

Dumbly, I followed him to the washroom. Not sure why. It wasn't like I was going to help him. I set my half-empty drink on the counter by the sinks. I folded my arms and leaned against the fake marble edge feeling awkward now that we were in there alone together.

Mark turned on the hand dryer and tried to dry out his shirt. He appeared to give up, grunting, and stripped off the tight black t-shirt he was wearing.

I just about collapsed, my arms falling to my sides.

The man was built—built and gorgeous.

My heart drummed against my chest.

"Is it working?" I tried to make conversation. Mark's usual cheerful demeanor was subdued as he concentrated on his shirt. It worried me. I was concerned about losing what little rapport we had developed over the months of him coming into the pub. I settled in to watch him, his strong back and shoulder muscles flexing and releasing as he passed his shirt under the dryer.

He looked delicious.

I absently turned bold, not hiding the fact I was staring at him. But then, I was drunk. My inhibitions were on temporary hiatus. Even when he turned around, I didn't look away. I just gave him a goofy grin. Deep down, I was horrified by my daring. But the courage of drink was deceiving me mentally. I had lost any semblance of common sense.

Mark pulled his shirt back on while keeping a wary eye on me.

"You all right?" he asked.

I snorted out a laugh. "Just a little drunk."

"Fancy joining me for another?"

My belly fluttered at the idea, my work-personal boundaries disintegrating as I nodded in agreement. I couldn't have denied him … even if I had wanted to try. I followed him out of the washroom, and we headed for the bar. Mark waved at a group of people sitting at one of the few tables. They raised their glasses in response. Their table was littered with empties.

"Those your friends from out of town?" I shouted.

"Yeah …" Mark leaned closer to my ear. It was hard to hear, the music was so loud. "Two are from college. One I used to work with years back … plus other things."

"Nice of them to visit."

"Yeah." Mark nodded and ordered us a couple of beers. After I thanked him, we clinked bottles and took long swallows. I found my throat was parched from yelling. Or maybe I needed additional liquid courage to continue the conversation. Could have been both.

Mark pointed to the back of the club. "Let's go back there. It's quieter." I nodded agreement and we angled through the crowd, found a spot against the back wall, and leaned against it.

"That's better." Mark's warm breath gusted past my ear. I shivered. Thoughts of his lips and teeth tugging on my earlobe circulated through my mind. My cock thickened.

"Are you having a good visit with your friends?"

"Somewhat. I wasn't expecting Karen to come along."

I looked at the two men and one woman sitting on the other side of the room. Every once in a while, the woman would look at us.

"Ex-girlfriend?"

"Ex-wife."

"Ah." And just like that, all thoughts of Mark nibbling on anything of mine flew out of my head. Straight, straight—and straight. "Bad breakup?"

"Bad enough. At least we hadn't had kids yet."

I wanted to change the subject. "Good thing."

Mark hesitated, watching me, then appeared to make a decision. "So, do you cycle?" He must have sensed me cringe at the mention of him having had a wife.

"When I was a kid. Not so much now. I taxi."

That comment brought the stunning smile back to Mark's face. "What do you do for fun?"

I looked around the room. "Pretty much this."

"That's too bad." Mark took a sip of his beer. "It would be fun to hang out with you somewhere we didn't have to yell. Get to know each other better."

I wasn't sure if I had heard him right. Get to know me better? We had gone from customer-bartender to talking about hanging out. Outside of work.

"I'm sure we could come up with something," I said.

"Oh, yeah … like what?" There was that glint in his eye. If I didn't know better, I would have assumed he was flirting with me. In reality, teasing me was more like it. And that was good too. I liked the idea that we had become friendly enough with each other to joke around.

I decided to be brazen. "Like let's get out of here and go for a walk."

Mark appeared unsure. I could see that. Maybe I had stepped too far. He looked over at his friends then turned to me and nodded his head. "I would like that."

A ripple of excitement coursed through my belly. Walking with Mark away from all of this—just walking and talking … it made me a little giddy.

After saying goodbye to my friends, I led the way outside. I was certain I wouldn't be rejoining them. After a good walk in the night air, I would be looking for my bed.

We headed for the water and the seawall. There was a long walking path along there. The stillness of the night was welcome after the noise of the club. We walked in silence for a while just enjoying the view of the harbor. It was Mark who spoke first.

"I'm glad to be out of there. I prefer being outdoors."

"I figured."

"So, you don't have any hobbies?"

"Embarrassingly, no." I laughed. "Not that I'm adverse. I love getting out in nature, going for a hike. But I love downtown too. That and the view of the ocean steals my heart."

"Bit of a romantic, are you?"

I snorted. "Suppose I am."

"Any significant other in your life?"

It was something we had never discussed at the pub. "Nope … flying solo."

"Yeah, me too."

We walked a bit further, nearly reaching the end of the seawall pathway. The Victoria to Vancouver ferry was sitting in its dock, its profile reflected perfectly in the water and illuminated by the sparkling lights of the parliament buildings. I couldn't imagine living anywhere else.

"How long have you lived in Victoria?" I asked.

"My whole life," Mark answered. "You?"

"Eight years. I moved from Kelowna."

"Nice."

Back to silence.

Every few steps, Mark glanced over at me. His hands were shoved in his coat pockets to keep his hands warm. I was doing the same. Neither of us seemed to care about the cold, even when the wind picked up. It was nice to be out there with him, away from any distraction.

Without warning, Mark stopped walking and turned to me. He caught me completely off guard when he stepped toward me. Even more so when he placed his hand on my chest and pushed me toward the high wall lining the seawall. His warm breath whispered across my lips as he stood there, staring at me. "I've never done this before," he said.

I swallowed. "Done what?" I knew damned well what he was talking about. His lips were poised above mine like he was about to consume me.

"Kissed a guy." He looked up into my eyes. "If that's all right with you, of course."

It was more than all right. I reached up and brushed my thumb along his prominent cheekbone then grasped his face. He pressed me to the wall and took my mouth—soft and tentative. My core trembled; my legs turned to mush. I think I might have swooned. I was in heaven. This was bliss in the extreme. The feel of his lips on mine—the closeness of our bodies.