Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 8

hoping for something to happen between them. Exactly what Devin wanted.
    He was halfway up the stairs before Devin shot out of his chair and ran up to stop him. Devin grabbed Sam's arm and held tight.
    "Sam, wait." It would be one thing if Sam was pissed off. He'd get over that. He'd talk it out with someone and rationalize his feelings and be back to his normal, quiet self. Their friendship would return to normal and Sam would forget he once wanted Devin to see a part of himself very few men saw. Some part of him, some desperate part that was screaming for him to stop this before it went too far, made Devin reach out, grab Sam's hand and move up the stairs until they were eye to eye. The light in the hall was dim, but Devin could see moisture shining in Sam's bright hazel eyes, saw the flicker of pain before he looked away again, up the stairs, to his escape.
    "Please don't be mad at me," Devin whispered. I don't want to hurt you. I'm sparing you from caring about me any more than you do.
    Sam shook his hand off. "Don't what? Are you listening to yourself?"
    I'm in love with you. Devin heard his words from last night as clearly as if Sam had said them again. This time, he wasn't hearing them though a drunken haze of rejection, he was seeing the pain in Sam's eyes, fresh and sobering, making Devin fully aware of what he was throwing away.
    "Come back downstairs," Devin said. "I can explain." I can make you see that what I feel won't be enough for you.
    "You don't have to explain. I need to be alone," Sam said after a few moments. "I think you do too." Turning, Sam left Devin alone on the stairs, wondering if he'd just made the biggest mistake of his life.
    ****
    "What'll it be, hon?" The tall blonde bartender leaned over the bar and tapped her fingers restlessly on the countertop. Devin looked around. There were half a dozen other people waiting for service. Surprising on a weekday. He supposed the bingo games and free pool were big draws on Mondays. "Sweetie, you getting something?" The thump of dance music nearly drowned out her words.
    "Uh, no. Is Lee around?" Devin didn't think the dance floor was open this early in the week, but it was possible the bartender was doing something else and just wasn't in his usual spot at Club One's Bay Street Cafe.
    She shook her head and shot him a sad smile. "Don't know how he does it. You're the third one to ask about him tonight. Lee quit. Found another job. You sure you don't want anything?" After waiting for his quick nod, the bartender turned and moved to a customer on the other side of the bar.
    Devin stepped away and surveyed the room. If Lee wasn't answering his door and he wasn't at Club One, where the hell would he be on a Monday night? More importantly, would Sam be with him?
    Devin had spent the rest of the previous afternoon waiting outside Sam's room for him to come out and then, when he'd emerged, silent and pale, fruitlessly trying to talk to Sam until he'd left the house, heading next door to take refuge with Lee. Devin's calls were sent to voicemail. His texts went unanswered and, he suspected, unopened. Devin wasn't even sure Sam had come home the night before. Coming home after work to find the house empty, Devin's last resort had been to try to get in touch with Lee to get Sam a message, but he wasn't responding to Devin's messages either.
    The situation was screwed up and Devin didn't know where to begin trying to fix it. If he told Sam the full truth, that Sam wouldn't want him once he knew him better, once he realized just how shallow and flaky Devin could be to his lovers, Dev wasn't sure it would make the situation better. It might even be worse, because Sam would know for sure Devin wasn't indifferent to him and was holding out for another reason. A reason that, while important to him, the practical part of Sam would say was just an excuse. Devin didn't need a therapist to tell him that walking away without trying was a cop out. He also didn't need a psychic to tell him that screwing up his relationship with Sam would narrow his circle of very close friends down to one, and Mike wasn't exactly on his side with this one. He had to get Sam to understand, there were no other options. Devin just hoped he hadn't already lost him.
    "Dev, what's up biatch?" A pair of thin, muscular arms slung around his neck and pulled Devin into a loose hug. When Devin didn't hug him back, Ian pulled back and looked down into his eyes. "You okay?"
    "No, I'm just tired,"