James sat down at the bar and signaled the bartender for a beer. While he waited, he twirled around on his barstool and scoped out the room. Though still early in the evening, the place was fairly packed.

He had heard of Dooley’s Pub. He’d just never been there before. It was supposed to be a laid-back gay bar where a man could just get a beer and play a game of pool without worrying that someone would hit on him every time he turned around.

Despite that, James hoped he might be hit on once or twice. His prospects seemed to be pretty good if the looks he was getting were anything to go by. More than one man checked him out when he walked in, and even now. James smiled and turned back to the bar.

The evening was definitely looking up.

“That’ll be three fifty,” the bartender said as he set a beer bottle down in front of James. James pulled some bills out of his pocket and handed them over. He took a long sip of the beer, surprised at how good the cold liquid felt going down his throat.

“First time?”

James turned to look at the man next to him. He smiled, not in invitation, but just to be polite. The guy wasn’t his type at all. “Yes. I heard about this place from my brother and thought I’d check it out.” Nicky and Troy loved this place. Not as much as they loved The Peabody Pub where they met, but they still raved about Dooley’s every time they came here.

“I could show you around,” the guy said, clearly not getting the picture that James wasn’t interested, “and introduce you to the regulars.”

“No,” James replied, giving he man a polite smile, not a friendly one, “but thanks anyway. I think I’ll just sit here with my beer.”

“My name’s Kurt,” the man said. “If you change your mind, I’ll be around.”

James gave a little nod and turned back to his beer. He rolled his eyes. There were quite a few men in here he wouldn’t mind spending the night with. Why couldn’t one of them hit on him? Why did it have to be some man dressed like a librarian?

Suits, dress shirts, slacks . . . none of those things turned him on. Especially when the guy wearing them looked like he’d never seen a hard day’s work in his life. James wasn’t a prude by any means, but he preferred men who wore jeans and T-shirts, and who understood the concept of working hard and playing harder.

James barely finished the thought when he caught sight of a man coming through the front door of the bar in the mirror over the bar, a man who made him rethink his taste in nerdy-looking men. James swung around to get a better look. No, whoever this guy was, he certainly wasn’t James’s normal type at all, but something about the stranger intrigued him and made his cock stand up and beg for an introduction.

The man wore a loose pair of tan slacks, a white button-down shirt, and a tan suit jacket—everything James hated on a man. He looked like a bookworm or librarian, right down to his horn-rimmed glasses. The only thing lacking was a damned bowtie.

Horrible.

Oh, yeah? Then why am I so fuckin’ attracted to him?

“Andy?” the man said loudly as he got closer to the bar. “I need my usual.”

“Another hard night, Dane?” the bartender asked as he made up some sort of pink drink and set it on the bar top.

The man, Dane apparently, nodded. He grabbed the drink and swallowed it all down in one gulp. He coughed, slamming the glass back down on the bar. “Hit me again.”

“Are you sure, Dane?” the bartender asked skeptically. “You hardly ever have more than one.”

Dane nodded. “I’m sure.”

“Okay, you’re the boss.”

James watched, fascinated, as the bartender made the man another pink drink. He handed it over. Again, the man downed the drink in one swallow. He didn’t cough this time but handed the glass back.

“Okay, I’ll take a straight ginger ale now.”

The bartender poured Dane a ginger ale and set it on the bar. “Anything I can help you with?”

“No, I was working on this really hot shower scene between Robert and Greg when my brother called. He started in on me, and I lost my train of thought.”

James frowned. Hot shower scene? Robert and Greg? What was this man into? When Dane sat down two barstools away and started talking to the bartender, James leaned closer, his curiosity eating away at him.

“So, tell me about this shower scene,” the bartender directed.

James nodded his head in agreement. He wanted to know more about the shower scene as well. In vivid detail, please.

“Robert just got home from work. Greg’s been gone on that conference in Tokyo I told you about for the last week. When Robert gets home, he discovers Greg in the shower. Greg is tired, he has jetlag, but Robert is naked and crawling into the shower with him.”

James raised a brow and shifted to find a more comfortable position on the stool. With every word Dane uttered, James’s dick grew harder. He could just picture the scene in his mind. He had been tired before, so tired his eyes ached, but if his naked lover had crawled into the shower with him, he’d be so awake he would look like he just had three shots of espresso.

“So, what seems to be the problem?” the bartender asked. “Robert has Greg in the shower. They’re both naked. Let the scene just go from there. Just let it happen.”

Yeah, Dane, just let it happen, James encouraged silently.

Dane shook his head. “It’s not flowing right now. I’m just not feeling it. I know they are supposed to reconnect because they’ve been apart for awhile, but something is just not working for me. I feel like my muse is in a coma.”

“I’d be more than happy to help,” James found himself saying before he had even thought about the words.

Oh hell!