I sent the text,then realized I had more to say.
I’mglad we met last night.
I’ll see you tomorrow.
I pressedmy head back on the pillows and let out a big, slow sigh. It was as if I’d been holding my breath the whole time we’d texted. The pounding in my chest was unusual for me. I had had many dates, but none that caused this reaction.
Suddenly, I had a million things to think about. What should I wear? Should I arrive early and get a table? What would he do when I told him I’d never been a daddy? What did he need? Should I bring a gift?
I always did this. I over-thought my way in and out of situations. It was a good trait to have in my job. But not in my personal life. I needed to rely more on my gut. But I didn’t trust myself well enough. Maybe in law I trusted, but it was easier because I knew the laws backward and forward. I knew when they applied more to some things but not others. I knew the judges and how some were lenient and soft while others were bored or hardened by the years. Some were angry. Some were funny. That knowledge always helped me when walking into a room.
In theory, I could apply the same to my personal life. I understood how hookups worked in the vanilla world. As long as it didn’t go further than that. And I knew the kink community and how it worked. But not in this area. Not with Sage.
I asked myself why not? He was another man. A young man, and this was just a date.
I didn’t have to over-think my answer. It was already in my mind. Sage mattered. That was why I wasn’t sure what to do or think. That was why my thoughts poured in with so many questions.
Sage mattered. And I didn’t want to fuck this up.
7
Sage
At work, I kept screwing up the drinks until Mateo took over for me and put me in charge of delivering them. Usually, I made drinks well. I didn’t overly water them down. I knew recipes for most of them by heart. If I didn’t know it, I’d ask the customer and they’d tell me and I’d make it perfectly. I got great tips.
Not today.
I couldn’t stop thinking about meeting Preston. My mind swam with possible scenarios. What to do. What to say. Two nights ago, we’d barely talked. Would he see me differently in big boy mode? Big boy was my private code for adult. I was always a boy. But not always little or a baby boy.
When my shifted ended, I took my backpack to the bathroom and changed out of my pub shirt and black pants and into jeans and a fuzzy pink sweater shirt. I had on my favorite stretchy bracelet of glass heart-shaped beads and some silver rings.
Mateo called out to me to have a good evening as I walked through the door. I waved and then hurried to my car. I didn’t want to be late.
I had fifteen minutes to get to the restaurant. It was less than ten minutes away—except I hit traffic. Which made me even more anxious.
It was exactly 6:30 when I pulled into the parking lot. There were people in front of me at the entrance, talking and laughing. I couldn’t easily shove forward to get past them. Maybe Preston was already there and waiting. Or maybe he was late.
I waited until the crowd surged and thinned out, then moved past them to look over the booths and tables. And there he was.
Preston looked fantastic. He wore a black cotton pullover and his hair was a perfect cap, all shiny and dark. His cheekbones were more beautiful than I remembered, giving his face a chiseled look and showing off a strong jawline. I loved chiseled looks.
His head was bent as he looked over the menu.
Sometimes I ate at work. But today I didn’t have any pub food on my break, saving my appetite for tonight.
I bypassed the host, saying quickly, “I see my friend over there.”
She nodded as I approached the booth.
Preston glanced up and his entire face lit with a friendly glow. Wow, seeing him right now, right in front of me caused me to freeze. For a moment, I couldn’t move.
“Sage. Hey. Glad you made it.”
I loosened up and slid onto the booth’s soft bench facing him.
“Hi. Preston.”
He nodded and held out his hand over the table. I shook it. It was a strange action after being held by him on his lap for so long. But actually, we hadn’t formally met. He’d told me his name, but it was like an afterthought.
