“True.” He sipped his wine and added, “Still sucks.”
“Is the divorce recent?”
“It’s been a year. We’re on good terms, though. Alli’s a great friend, and I’m lucky, but…” Silas gesticulated wildly, rolling his wrists as if that might help dislodge the words he needed. “I think I’m a little…”
“Angry? Depressed?”
“Lost.” He wrinkled his nose and sighed. “That sounds dramatic, huh? Enough about me. I’m tired of my own bullshit. I’d rather hear about yours. Are you going through an existential crisis too?”
I chuckled lightly. “Not at the moment. No.”
“Good for you.”
“Is that what this is?” I motioned between us. “An existential crisis?”
“You mean…the grind session?”
“Yeah, that.” I topped off our glasses, then hiked my knee on the sofa, twisting to face him. “Have you been with other men?”
“Yeah, but…” Silas cleared his throat, darting a quick glance my way before fixating on the fire. “Only a couple of times. Nothing serious, and with guys who were deeper in the closetthan I was. I haven’t done anything like this in…years. What about you?”
I shrugged. “I’m bisexual too.”
“Out?”
“Mostly.”
Silas furrowed his brows, head cocked quizzically. “What does that mean?”
“Some people know, some don’t. I don’t intentionally hide my sexuality, but unless it comes up, it’s not something I share. Folks can think what they want, and in my experience, they usually do.”
“Yeah. I guess so. Is it—do you—how do you—” He inhaled and released a humorless laugh. “Sorry. This is a new one for me. I’ve never had a conversation with anyone about…me. Or bisexual me. Not with somebody who could sort of relate.”
“Iwasa star football player in high school,” I bragged. “Had an arm like a cannon back in the day.”
“I bet. I meant that you were married to a woman and?—”
“Silas.” I set a hand on his knee to stop his speech. “No offense, but I don’t know you and you don’t know me. Discussing my long-dead marriage isn’t my idea of a good time.”
“Mine either,” he huffed in frustration. “I was just wondering how you meet guys like us in a town the size of a postage stamp or if you even try.”
“Well, I haven’t done this in a while.”
“What’s a while?” Silas bumped my knee as if the gesture might encourage conversation.
I shrugged. “Last spring with a guy I met at a bar in Rutland.”
“A hookup.”
“Yeah. We each got what we needed and moved on. No muss, no fuss, no feelings involved. I don’t remember his name or if he offered it in the first place. I didn’t want to see him again. I wanted…”
“What?” Silas prodded.
“To get off. And…well, let’s just say, the dynamics weren’t gentle.”
“Rough sex?” He widened his eyes and grinned like a wolf. “Interesting.”
I snorted. “No, it’s not. I’m not sharing past sex-ploits to entertain you, either.”
