Never a Hero

be straight if only I met the right woman were suddenly revealed for the sheer folly they had been. I didn’t want the right woman. I wanted a man.
    I wanted Nick.
    He kissed my neck. I could feel his erection pushing against mine. It sent a tremor through me, knowing he was as turned on as I was. He slid his hand inside my jeans to cup my groin, and I moaned, arching into him, panting with impatience, ready to give every inch of myself to him. No matter that I was a virgin. No matter that I had no idea what to do. Whatever he wanted, I was ready for it.
    Desperate for it.
    But then he stopped.
    I waited, my heart pounding, my cock straining for more of his touch. Nick took a deep, shuddering breath. He moved his hand away from my groin.
    “Nick?” I asked in a hoarse whisper.
    He put his forehead on my shoulder. He didn’t let me go, but his grip on me loosened. He put both of his hands on my hips, allowing a tiny gap to grow between us. “I’m sorry.” His voice was so soft, I almost didn’t hear him.
    “Please don’t stop.”
    “I have to.”
    “I don’t understand.”
    “I know.”
    And yet he offered no explanation. I could only come up with one possibility. “Is it me?”
    His laugh was full of bitterness. “That depends on how you look at it.”
    That stung, and I took my arm from around his neck, wishing I could pull away, but I was still trapped against the wall.
    He must have sensed my dismay, and he stepped back to meet my eyes. It wasn’t disgust or shame I saw there, but grief. It made me want to hold him and comfort him, even though I had no idea what was going on.
    He cupped my cheek in his hand. “No, Owen. I didn’t mean it that way. It’s not your fault. I suppose I could blame you for being so damn tempting. All I can think about is how much I want to touch you . . .”
    My world seemed to spin. I was tempting? I was all he could think about? “Then what’s the problem?”
    “I can’t.” He kissed my forehead. A quick, tender gesture that made my throat ache. “Goodnight, Owen.” And before I could respond, before I could even catch my breath, he let me go.
    And he left.

The next few days were torture. I didn’t see Nick at all, although I couldn’t stop thinking about him or about how perfect it had felt to have him touch me. It had been only a few short minutes, and yet in that time, I felt as if all my insecurities had disappeared. For those brief moments, I’d felt brave and sexy.
    I’d felt whole.
    And yet now, I was afraid to face him. I was afraid of what I might see in his eyes.
    On the fifth day, June appeared at my door. “I found us a teacher. She’ll be here in twenty minutes.”
    I could only blink at her in surprise. I’d all but forgotten her idea of taking piano lessons. I certainly hadn’t expected her to appear on my front porch having already lined up an instructor.
    “What if I’m busy?”
    “But you’re not, are you? Nick says you work from home. That means you’re available.”
    I wanted to be annoyed at her and her wild dark hair and her cocky grin, but what good would it do? Instead, I went like a condemned man down the steps to Nick’s place.
    “Her name’s Amelia. Like Amelia Bedelia. Remember those books?”
    “No.”
    “She’s going to come twice a week, Mondays and Thursdays at five-thirty. Lessons are an hour long. We’ll split the cost, okay?”
    Did I have a choice?
    “She has a recital scheduled the week before Christmas. She asked if we wanted to play in it, and I told her—”
    “No!”
    “—yes.”
    “We haven’t even learned a note yet!”
    “Well, so what? She says lots of her beginning students will be playing in it.”
    “Oh God,” I moaned. The recital was two months away, and already I could feel my blood pressure climbing. I wondered if I could appeal to Nick to talk June out of it.
    Of course, that would mean facing him.
    He came in from the kitchen to greet me, looking self-conscious and nervous. “I’m glad you came. I was afraid you wouldn’t want to see me.”
    I looked over at June, who was riffling through the music in the piano bench. By stepping closer to Nick and speaking quietly, we had a semblance of privacy. “Given how we left things, it seems more likely that you wouldn’t want to see me .”
    He sighed, looking down at the floor. “I’m sorry about what happened.”
    I could accept the apology, but I wanted more. I wanted to know what had gone wrong. “You mean, you’re