Love Is Always Write Volume 4

whole experience of the college student."
    "I wished I could have gone to a regular school, but there wasn't the money. And I couldn't with the kids." He clamped his full lips tight, as if he regretted giving away that information.
    Stefan drank the rest of his beer and concentrated on not thinking about Greg's mouth. He thought about the differences between their early lives--his own childhood as a cherished only child in a well-to-do family. Even coming out had been relatively easy for him. His father hadn't loved the fact that his only son was gay, but it only took a couple of months before he let go of his disappointment.
    Stefan had been twenty-five when his parents died in a car accident, and he'd been devastated, the first real sorrow and pain in his life. Compared to that, Phillip's betrayal last month was a blip on the screen.
    He leaned back in the chair, releasing the pressure of the day, the way he always did after Emily fell asleep—and the way he hadn't been able to when Phillip had been waiting, usually impatiently, for "real life" to start up.
    And wasn't it interesting that he could relax with this man he didn't know well. Maybe it was the beer that let his muscles relax and his mind grow quiet.
    Greg didn't look particularly comfortable, though. He glanced at his watch again.
    "Something wrong?" Stefan asked.
    Greg shrugged. "I'm not used to quiet evenings. I feel as if I'm supposed to be somewhere."
    "Are you?"
    "Not really. That's the funny part." He crossed his legs at the ankles and folded his arms. All the ease he'd shown with Emily was gone. "I'd like to get to know you better. But without the context of work, and without a lot of drinks or music, and now no Emily, I guess the conversation thing is an uphill battle for me. Especially at the moment."
    Stefan laughed and couldn't believe he felt charmed by the fact that the guy basically said talking with him was a chore. "Why at the moment?"
    Greg's smile was rueful. "I'm not sure why you invited me to dinner. You keep looking at me like that, and I get the wrong idea."
    "Look at you? What are you talking about?"
    "Your eyes." He lowered his lids, then bugged his eyes like he had a stomach ache.
    Stefan snickered. "I so do not look like that."
    "You do. You look like you're gonna fuck me with those big, dark eyes of yours."
    "Wow. That's…I don't know if that's really hot or really sick. Both, I'd say." They laughed, and the awkwardness was broken, but the heat remained.
    "You know, maybe I should be less of a virtuous monk about this stuff. Just because, yeah. I want you." Stefan grimaced. But why not be honest with himself as well as Greg? He needed excitement in his life again, and god knew where else he'd find it. He was just about to say, yes, let's go for it, when Greg stood up .
    GREG
    Greg had been acting like a moron long enough. That thing about fucking with eyes—not his style. "I think you're right. I need a friend more than a fuck." He checked his watch. Not really late, not particularly early. He'd been here for hours. And now he felt adrift in the evening.
    "Aw, jeez, and where are you going now? Off to a bar?"
    "I don't think so." He couldn't help the edge of indignation in his tone. Probably because that was precisely what he'd considered doing.
    "I'm not judging you. And, hey, you're the one who said you only do fast encounters."
    Usually Greg hooked up for a weekend or even as long as a week when he went on vacation. And even if he didn't want long-term, he was attracted to guys he'd probably like in real life. But he wouldn't bother explaining this to Stefan, because any more talk about sex would cause him permanent damage. His body had been fully aroused, off and on, for hours, and he wanted to stay in the nearly off mode now that he was out the door. "Thanks for dinner. It was great."
    "Anytime. It was fun hanging out with a grown-up."
    Stefan also stood. He pushed his hands through his already rumpled hair and stretched. Jesus, Stefan's body drew Greg's hunger to the surface again. Maybe it was the way he leaned from side to side. Or maybe Greg had had enough of not touching anyone. Greg definitely wasn't a hugger, but a quick hug good night wouldn't hurt.
    But even as he put his arms around Stefan for an embrace that was supposed to last a few short seconds, he knew he was in deep trouble. He put his nose to Stefan's hair and drew in the scent of soap, baby, slightly sweaty man. One moment, Greg had only the vague