Surprise registered on his expression. “Yeah.”
I mulled that over, taking my glass in both hands and spinning it slowly around. “Been in one for long?”
“Three years now.”
“It get any easier?”
A small smile settled on his mouth. “Relationships can be hard work. But when you meet the right person, going all in, warts, intricacies, and all are totally worth it. But I’m not sure ‘easier’ is the right word. Sometimes I’m still taken by surprise, kept on my toes, and have to think through my reaction.”
“She’s worth it then?”
He angled his head and examined me. “He’sworth it, yeah.”
“Shit, man, sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for.”
“No, but still, always the assumption, right? I was brought up with totally open and accepting parents, yet immediately I assume people are straight.” My brows dipped low. “What the fuck’s with that?” I shook my head and finished off my almost full-to-the-top beer. When I finished, Blake’s brows were high.
“I’m serious. I’m still thinking shit like that, yet I’m bi or queer or whatever the fuck label I’m meant to be, and I still make assumptions.” I shook my head, pissed off with myself. “I can’t even get this right. I swear—”
“Hey, man.” Blake latched on my forearm, stopping my tirade. “There’s only a few of the locals here, but you were getting a little vocal.” He pulled away after a light squeeze.
The fire inside me doused quickly, and my shoulders sagged. “Sorry. Thanks.” I took a quick glance around, and no one seemed to be paying any attention.
“Listen, I don’t know what’s going on. Sure, I’ve seen some press, but I know to absolutely not believe even half of what’s posted or printed. All I do know is if some of what I’ve read is right, it sounds like you’ve gone through a big change and realization recently. So give yourself a break. And as for labels…” He shrugged. “You’re not on anyone’s timeline but your own. Figure yourself out, what you want, what feels right. When you’ve got that sorted, focus on your relationship. If you see a future together, you’ll work it out.”
Absorbing his words, something tight loosened a little in my chest. “You know what they say about bartenders doubling up as counselors… well, I think you’d give the guy I know at Montview a run for his money.”
A large smirk appeared immediately on Blake’s face. “Is that right?”
“Sure is.”
Blake chuckled and shook his head. “Best not tell Mark that.”
Startled, my brows shot up. “You know Mark?”
His smirk turned into a knowing grin. “You could say that.”
Just as I was about to ask a question, the bar door opening pulled my attention away and directly to the man of conversation. Smiling softly, Mark entered, and from that look alone, it was clear he knew something about what was happening.
I sighed and turned to Blake. “Isn’t there some sort of confidentiality or something that exists between barkeep and patron?” I groused, not really pissed off.
“I think that’s something between you and a priest or you and your counselor. And he just happened to text me a few moments ago, and I might have mentioned I had a runaway who looked in need of some company.” He shrugged, gaze moving to Mark. A very different smile lit his face, and I immediately knew who Mark was to him.
“Huh, you’re Mark’s dreamy boyfriend the guy’s mentioned a time or ten.” I shook my head and smiled. “Mark, seriously, man. Blake’s going to be gunning for your job.”
“Is that right?” Mark slipped onto the barstool next to me, offering his boyfriend a grin and me a concerned stare.
“Dreamy?” Blake cut in and bounced his brows up and down.
“Hush, it’s all lies.” Leaning up and over the bar, Mark accepted a kiss from Blake. I took a cursory glance around, and the few patrons here didn’t pause from drinking or even bat an eye.
“Beer?”
Mark glanced at my beer and nodded. “That’d be great, thanks.”
“Coming right up.” Blake left us to go and pour Mark’s drink while I focused on my glass.
