“Lord, I had forgotten what winter felt like,” Russ said, rubbing his hands together and then stuffing them into the pockets of his puffy jacket. The night air was bracingly chilly as we walked along the sidewalk.

“You’re back in Upstate New York, now, Russ,” I said, smacking him lightly on the back. “Your blood got way too used to that California weather while you were gone.”

“You should have seen him last night,” Devin said, grinning at me. “He was making a snow angel on the ground and then had to run inside because a teeny bit of snow got in his boots. I would have made fun of him if I didn’t find him so damn cute.”

I was walking up to the Rose Falls Promenade with my brother, Devin, and his boyfriend Russ. Russ had just moved back to Rose Falls a few months back but had been Devin’s best friend growing up. They’d reunited, and after a tumultuous last few months, had finally admitted that they were in love with one another.

I had known it all along, of course. But I’d also known that Devin would have to figure it out on his own. If there was anything I’d learned in my years of being an older brother, it was that I couldn’t force Devin to make any decisions. He always had to come to them on his own.

The Promenade was Rose Falls’ downtown area full of shops and local restaurants, and Russ and Devin had invited me out to get dinner. As we approached, I could see that the town had decked out the Promenade in its full winter regalia.

“Yes!” Devin called out, doing a little jump into the air. “They’ve got all the lights put up! Oh God, this is the best time of year for the Promenade.”

“Just a few months ago you were saying that fall was the best time of year here,” I said.

“Well, yeah, it is,” Devin said, “but… this time of year is, too. Whatever, Emmett, don’t season-shame me.”

“Season-shame?” I said. “That doesn’t even exist.”

“Oh my God, they even have the little snowflakes up,” Devin said, running ahead a few steps and examining one of the hanging, lit-up snowflakes that were dangling out of all the large trees. Families were walking up and down the cobblestone streets of the Promenade, taking photos, kids marveling at the winter displays, and couples kissing under a mistletoe archway. It was disgustingly idyllic, and I’d have said so if I wasn’t sure that Devin would lecture me about being a Grinch for at least an hour.

“Come on, I’m hungry,” I said after Devin had examined the decorations for what felt like a solid five minutes. “Does he ever let you eat?” I asked Russ.

He smiled, nodding. “Sometimes I bring fun-size candy bars in my pocket to tide myself over, but yes, we always eventually eat.”

“Sounds like you’ve got the right idea,” I said.

We made our way over to the Hungry Pig restaurant and stepped inside. It was very crowded, on a Friday night, with a line of people that snaked out the heavy wooden front doors. The Hungry Pig was trendy, and everyone in Rose Falls had been trying to go to dinner there in recent months.

“We’re gonna have to wait, like, an hour,” I said to Devin.

He shook his head. “Nope. Shane made a reservation for us. I told him last night.”

“I knew I liked Shane,” I said. Shane worked as the sous chef at The Hungry Pig, and I’d met him a few times through Devin.

We took off our coats and hats and were seated within the next minute, in a cozy booth along the red-brick wall at the back of the restaurant. We had a clear view of the lively bar as well as the window to the kitchen, where we could see Shane working his magic behind the glass.

“Damn, this place really is awesome,” I said. “I’m sure I’d come here a lot more often if everyone in town wasn’t here every night.” I opened the menu and started browsing.

“Shocker,” Devin said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.

“Oh, nothing… just that you never do anything fun, Emmett,” Devin said.

“Harsh,” I said. “I do fun stuff all the time that you don’t know about.”

Devin raised an eyebrow. “Really? What did you do last night?”

This was a game that Devin had always liked to play with me. He always found a way to tease me for what he thought of as my “boring” life—when in reality, I just didn’t want to tell him the more salacious activities I got up to. I wasn’t going to say “oh yeah, you wouldn’t believe this hottie that fucked me senseless last night,” or “I think I beat my record for how fast I can make a guy come.” Devin was under the impression that I was a boring older brother, and as far as I was concerned, we could keep it that way.

So when he asked about last night, I downplayed it. I had been trying like hell to forget about last night completely, actually. “Uh,” I said, “Nothing great happened.” I was hardly in the mood to explain my recent… thing with Ryan, and I knew that as soon as I mentioned him, Devin would pressure me into dating him.

As we browsed the menu, my thoughts drifted back to the awful way the previous night had ended. Just remembering the look on Ryan’s face made my gut twist all over again.

I had fucked up, but what else was new? Ryan had looked at me with disgust when I’d even suggested that he put off the work phone call, but I hadn’t known how much of an emergency the work had been. Ryan had gone from calm to frantic in a matter of two seconds, and it was like a roiling fire had been lit underneath him.

When I’d broken the wine glass and woken up Anna, it was the icing on the cake. I’d climbed into the cab outside Ryan’s house, and at first, I’d been indignant—how could Ryan have treated me that way? How dare he essentially throw me out of his house? But by the end of the cab ride, my raw anger had morphed into embarrassment, and then resignation. I wanted to go bury my head in the sand.

Because I’d known that things with Ryan wouldn’t last—and I didn’t want them to, anyway. But last night had been confirmation that our lifestyles were monstrously different.

I’d never get an emergency call to go into work at Brew For You. I didn’t even know what it felt like to have a job that stressful. Of course, Ryan couldn’t just ignore his work, but I hadn’t realized that until I’d put my foot in my mouth.

Needless to say, I hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep last night, and all day at work today I’d felt like a zombie. Ryan hadn’t come in, either, and I couldn’t tell if I felt glad about that or disappointed. I tried not to examine the issue too much.

When Devin and Russ invited me out to dinner, I jumped at the opportunity to have the distraction. My brother was crazy, and a lot to deal with, but he really was one of my best friends.

A waitress appeared at the table, and we got a round of margaritas. A few minutes later we ordered our food, and as we waited, I could immediately sense that Devin was trying to bring up the topic of my love life. Devin wasn’t exactly known for his subtlety.

“So… Emmett… what’s new?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows at me.

I shrugged. “Nothing. Same old, same old. Working at the coffee shop by day, and being my boring, old self by night.”

“You are so not old,” Devin said. “Thirty-two is the new twenty-two, and you know it.”

“Tell that to my aching knee joints.”

Devin rolled his eyes. “So really? Nothing fun and exciting to update me about?”

“Devin,” I said, meeting his gaze.

“What?” he asked, all innocent and doe-eyed.

“You’re very obviously just trying to get me to tell you how my love life—or lack thereof—has been going lately, aren’t you?”

Devin looked away, a slight grin on his face. “I don’t know what would give you that idea,” he said.

“I’ve literally known you since before you were born,” I said with a laugh. “I felt you kicking in mom’s stomach. Not that I remember much of that, because I was like, two years old, but whatever. The point is, you can’t fool me.”

“Oh, alright, fine. You’re right,” he said, waving a hand. “But just tell me what’s been going on with you!”

I let out a long sigh. “Fine. I didn’t want to bring it up, but clearly you’re not going to let me get out of it.”

“Hot damn, is there actual news?” He leaned forward, smiling. “Dish, Emmett.”

“I hooked up with a guy at a wedding, thought he was married, turned out he wasn’t, and after trying hard not to flirt with him at Brew For You, I… ended up going over to his house and making dinner for him last night.”

Devin’s face twisted in confusion, like I hadn’t been speaking English in a way he could understand. “Wait—” he said, “—what? You made him dinner?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“Is that a new sex act I’m not yet aware of?” Devin asked, turning to Russ. “Making dinner… is it like, kneading a guy before his dick rises or something?”

“Jesus, Devin,” I said, shaking my head as Russ laughed. “No. I literally made him dinner. We didn’t have sex.”

“Holy shit,” he said, his mouth falling wide.

I stared at him blankly, shrugging.

“You’re going to marry this guy,” Devin said.

I coughed on a sip of my margarita. “What in fresh hell is possessing you to say that, Devin?”

He shook his head, taking a big sip from his own drink. “Nope,” he said. “It’s true. You can’t deny it. When have you ever cooked for a guy before? That’s not something you usually do.”

“I mean, what I usually do is have sex with someone once and hopefully never see them again,” I said.

“Exactly!”

“And… I did have sex with this guy once, but I ended up serving him coffee a few times and making him dinner before he decided he hates me.”

“Why do you think this guy hates you now? If he kept coming into Brew For You, he must kind of want to see you, right?” Russ asked.

“Well, he might have wanted to see me before, but after last night he probably thinks I’m a drunken fuck-up. I cooked dinner for him, we drank wine, and everything seemed like it was going great, but then he got an emergency call from work and I kinda… sorta… suggested that he ignore it.”

Russ nodded. “Okay, yeah, that’s not a great move. But I’m sure he could forgive you. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“…And then I broke a wine glass in his kitchen, and his baby woke up and started screaming her head off, on top of the whole work thing.”

“Baby?!” Devin called out, so loud that a few heads at the tables around us turned our way. “You’re dating someone who has a baby? Emmett, my heart! This is so adorable! Will I be an uncle one day?”

“I am one hundred percent not dating him,” I said. “And Jesus, keep your voice down. This is a small town. I don’t need someone overhearing me blabbing about Ryan to you guys.”

“So did he come into the coffee shop this morning?” Devin asked.

I shook my head. “No. His babysitter was sick yesterday, so it could just be that… or I could be right, and he hates me now. It was bound to crash and burn, anyway, though. This guy is smart as hell, attractive, rich, and has a baby… I have nothing to offer him.”

“You’re at least one of those things,” Devin said, and I reached out to punch him on the shoulder, but I smiled. I was on the fast track to being embarrassed, but at least Devin joking around meant that I didn’t have to focus too much on my own insecurities.

“I’m certainly not rich, and dear God, I don’t think I have a baby,” I said, “So I don’t know whether you’re saying I’m smart or attractive. But either one is equally false.”

“Oh, come on, you’re a catch, Emmett,” Russ said, and I glanced up to meet his eyes. Russ was much calmer and stoic than Devin was, and I was much more apt to take his word for it. Devin was always effusive and exaggerating, but Russ always considered what he had to say before he spoke.

“Aww, Russ, you’re going to make me blush,” I said. “I think I already am blushing, actually.”

“It’s true,” he said. “Why would a guy who’s already well-off care if you had less money? Sometimes people like being able to take care of someone. He might not want someone just like him.”

I shook my head, looking back down at the table. “It’s not just the money. It’s…him. I feel ridiculously immature around him, like he followed the right path in life, and I just fucked around until the years crept up on me and I was suddenly thirty-two. I’m not exactly… established, or ambitious.”

“C’mon, Emmett, you know what Russ meant,” Devin said. “…Don’t write him off. Maybe he was stressed about work last night, maybe you did have a little too much to drink. But you can’t let this turn out like every other promising person you’ve dated.”

Devin looked at me sincerely, and for a rare moment, he actually looked totally earnest.

“What do you mean?”

He narrowed his eyes. “You know what I mean. Any time there is someone that seems like they might be a good match for you, you get cold feet the minute things start to get serious.”

I nodded. I couldn’t argue with Devin on that one. I took a big sip of my margarita. “I just know it’s easier to get the disappointing part over with sooner rather than later,” I said quietly.

“What disappointing part?”

I shrugged, letting out a long sigh. “The part where they realize I’m not good enough for them. Or the part where they get bored in the relationship. Or when they start talking about kids, and I freeze up. Or when, for fuck’s sake, they cheat on me.”

Devin reached out and grasped my hand on top of the table. “You’ve been fucked over in the past. But not everyone is a dirty, rotten cheater. It’s shitty that it happened, but it doesn’t sound like this guy is similar to anyone you’ve ever been with before.”

I felt a lurch in my chest as Devin said it—he was right, and I knew it. “I’ve really never met anyone like him.”

“What is it that makes him special?” Russ asked.

I paused, lost in thought for a moment, trying to sum up what it was about Ryan that felt so different from other people I’d met. On paper, he sounded like any other guy in his mid-thirties, but that was so far from Ryan’s essence. “He just… has this air of calm about him,” I said. “At least, when he’s not freaked out about work. He seems so genuinely happy and… open, I guess. He’s not cynical at all. And he told me last night that he actually did grow up poor, so I know he worked hard for what he has now.”

Russ nodded, and Devin smiled at me.

“He’s also ridiculously nice to me,” I said. “So that’s fucking weird.”

“Not weird,” Devin said, his grin widening. “Promising.”

Our food came out soon after, and I jumped at the opportunity to stuff my face instead of responding to my brother’s unending interrogation. I was emotionally raw after opening up about Ryan. Amorphous versions of these thoughts had been floating around my head for the past week, but I hadn’t been able to verbalize them.

But saying it out loud made me realize how special Ryan really was. He was the first person in a long time that I’d even wanted to see again after hooking up with him.

It was terrifying.

I didn’t feel like myself.

But I also still secretly hoped I’d see him again, hoped that on Monday morning he’d waltz through the doors of Brew For You, beautiful as ever.

* * *

“Emmett! You came!”

As I waited in line at the Hideout Lounge music club the following night, getting a wristband wrapped around my arm, I heard Zadie calling my name. She emerged from inside the club a moment later.

“Zadie, of course I came,” I said. “I would never miss a Bunny Four show.”

“This is our first concert in a few weeks,” she said, “I hate to say it, but I’m actually kind of nervous.”

“You guys always fucking rock,” I said. “I sure as hell am ready to dance my ass off.”

She laughed. “Please do. You always get the crowd so riled up, I wish you were at all of our concerts.”

We walked back into the club together, down the stairs to a low-lit basement with a bar and a modest-sized stage.

“I have to head backstage again to finalize the set list for tonight, but I’m so glad you’re here,” Zadie said, pushing back a lock of her neon green hair. “Your flyer design for tonight was incredible, by the way. You’re the best artist we’ve ever had.”

My cheeks heated slightly. “It’s fun. I’m lucky I get to do it for you guys.”

“We are lucky,” she said. Zadie was unbelievably sweet, in spite of the raucous punk music she played, and the fact that half of her clothes were covered in silver studs.

She gave me another quick hug and disappeared down a hallway toward the back of the stage.

The Hideout Lounge was one of the places in Rose Falls that most felt like home to me. When I’d come tonight, I knew it was my chance to think about something other than my own life for a few hours, and instead lose myself in a wall of sound. Today had been unseasonably warm—still chilly, in the high forties, but sunny enough that almost all of the snow had melted away.

It felt like a fresh start. I was taking any signs I could get, at this point.

The Bunny Four was one of my favorite local bands, and it just so happened that I was friends with nearly all of the members. Zadie was the lead singer. She had been a regular customer in a restaurant I used to work in, and one night after a show, she had come in and talked with me all night as I worked the bar. I was never a very good bartender, but the best part of the job had been meeting and talking to people from all walks of life. Zadie might have been the best friend I’d made while working that job.

I tried to make it to as many of their local shows as I could, especially now that The Bunny Four had become slightly well known and started touring all around the country. I had made the flyers for the show tonight, and a small thrill shot through me when I’d heard two teenagers outside calling the design “totally dope.”

When the music started twenty minutes later, I purposely moved all the way to the front of the crowd—I was in the mood to jump, to dance, to move my body to the music and sweat out all the stress of the past week in the front row. I knew every word to most of the songs, and I sang along with abandon. A group of women who were also in the front row, decked out in sequined outfits and equally glittery makeup, were just as wild as me, and as we jumped in unison, I briefly forgot the rest of the world existed.

For one song, Zadie gestured at me and the other women to get up on stage. We climbed up, and under the shining lights, we sang and danced our hearts out, looking on as the rest of the crowd cheered us on.

When nothing else gave me joy, this did. The loud music melted everything else away.

When Zadie brought out the acoustic guitar to play a few slower songs in the middle of the set, I caught my breath, squeezing my way through the crowd to head to the back and get some air. The bar was pretty full, and I perched at the end of it, ordering a gin and tonic as well as a big glass of water.

I chugged the water fast and pushed my hair back out of my face as I turned toward the tall tables, dimly lit in the back. Most of them were occupied by groups of students, out on a Saturday night. I envied them, briefly; the crushing weight of adult life hadn’t yet touched them, and their only cares were likely whenever the next exam was coming up.

But my eyes fell eventually on a familiar face, a slightly older and more refined one. He was standing alone, dressed impeccably, with bright orange earplugs sticking out of his ears.

It was Ryan.

Seeing him gave me pause for a moment—it was a shock, and for a second I wondered how he’d even known about the concert.

He looked up and met my eyes, giving me a sheepish wave over his glass of beer, and I remembered: I’d sent him a copy of the flyer for this show.

And he’d actually come.

I grabbed my gin and tonic and started over toward him. He looked out of place, in a kind of adorably nerdy way—it seemed like he could have been the father of half the kids in the place.

But God, was he a thing of beauty. His chiseled features were slightly softened in the light, but he looked radiant as ever.

I stopped at his side. “You are the only person here wearing a tie,” I said, leaning over toward him.

“What?” he said, bending his head toward me. It was already a little hard to hear over the music, but his earplugs had to make it even worse. Zadie was playing an acoustic song, but her powerful voice still filled the room, intensely loud.

“I like your tie,” I said. I took the cool silk between my fingers and ran my hand down its length before letting it fall back toward his chest.

“Oh,” he said, looking down at it, still bashful.

“I can’t believe you came,” I shouted over at him, “Kinda thought you were pissed off at me.”

“What?” he repeated, shaking his head. “Sorry, Emmett, I can’t hear you.”

I nodded once, grabbing his free hand. I led him out the back of the club and toward the set of stairs that went back up to the street, and I stopped by the coat check. The heavy double doors of the main part of the club shut behind us, cutting back the noise.

He reached up and took out the disposable earplugs, tossing them into a nearby trash can.

“Much better,” he said. “What were you trying to tell me?”

The lighting was brighter now in the hallway, and when he met my eyes, I got lost for a moment in their calm blue. I took a drink from my gin and tonic.

“Just that I was glad you came tonight,” I said. “Surprised, though. How’d you like the music?”

“I liked it best when you were on stage,” he said.

A laugh escaped me. “You were there for that? Oh God.”

“I certainly was. You seemed like you were having fun.”

“Too much fun,” I said. I leaned against the dark wood wall behind me, still adjusting to the shock of seeing him in such an unlikely place. His eyes lingered on me, and in the momentary silence, the dulled sounds of the music thumped through the walls.

“Emmett, I’m really sorry for the other night,” he said.

“As always, I should be the one really apologizing,” I said quickly.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I mean it. I can get a little crazy when it comes to work, and it’s… something I’m trying to fix. I snapped at you, and I hated myself for it ever since.”

I waved a hand through the air, taking another big sip of my drink. “It’s nothing,” I said. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Well, I feel like I owe you more than just an apology,” he said. “Would you let me finally buy you that drink I promised?”

I bit the inside of my cheek, dual emotions warring within me. On the one hand, I wanted so badly to say yes—yes, please, let me have a night with him, let me keep feeling the joy I’d finally found in the past hour. But another part of me prickled with anxiety. This was it, really—a tipping point, a place where things with Ryan could head in a different direction.

I’d refused the drink from him days ago because I knew there was no point in entertaining my attraction to him. But with every day that passed, it seemed it was an impossible thing to ignore.

Ryan had become a part of my life, and now it was a matter of discovering how big that part would be.

I remembered what Devin had told me, the night before: that every time I met a promising person, there came a point where I got cold feet, where I pulled the plug before anything got serious, where I put the car in reverse and drove away fast.

This was my chance to do that. This could be where I made the decision, said “thanks but no thanks,” and continued my life as normal without Ryan.

I realized I was standing there, nervously biting my bottom lip, the condensation from my drink slowly beading onto my fingers and dripping to the floor.

Ryan shifted on his feet, eyeing me warily. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Emmett,” he said. “I just… would have hated myself if I hadn’t tried.”

For the second time in a week, Ryan was putting himself out there, apologizing, fighting to repair things with me. It was something I hadn’t felt, maybe in forever—someone giving a shit enough about me to even bother trying to make things right. He was so unfailingly sweet, no matter what seemed to happen.

It was astounding, and I couldn’t possibly resist.

And I admit—part of me wanted badly to grab him by his tie, pull him in close toward me, and kiss him until he begged for more. I briefly remembered what his lips had tasted like at the wedding, just a hint of champagne, and I knew tonight they would taste like his beer.

I wanted to taste more of him, too.

I felt my skin growing hot as I polished off the rest of my drink in one long chug. I reached out toward Ryan’s empty beer glass, and he handed it over to me, raising his eyebrow quizzically.

I stacked the empty glass in my own and turned back toward the double doors of the club. The loud music pounded over me once again as I made my way to the bar and deposited the glasses on the bartop. I turned quickly on my heel and made my way back out to the hall where Ryan was waiting and reached into the coat closet to grab my jacket.

“Okay,” I said to Ryan, a grin spreading across my face. “Let’s go.”

He puffed out a laugh, as if he didn’t know whether to tell me I was crazy or to go ahead with his offer. But he reached into the closet, grabbing his own coat and throwing it on.

“We’re gonna have fun tonight, Emmett,” he said, “I promise.”

I snorted.

“What?” he said.

“Nothing. It’s… you sound like an after-school special,” I said. “It’s adorable, don’t get me wrong. You’re just… so you.”

He threw his hands up in the air, smiling. “Okay, fine. I can be edgy. I can be cool. We’re not just gonna have fun tonight, we’re gonna… wreck shit up,” he said. “We’re gonna make a rave look like a tea party. We won’t just stay up ‘til four in the morning, we’ll stay up ‘til four in the afternoon. We’ll… we’ll have more fun than a party bus full of bottoms at a dildo factory.”

“Jesus Christ!” I burst out laughing, bringing my hands up to my face. “Wow,” I said. “You really fuckin’ mean business, Ryan. I didn’t know you had this wild side lurking beneath the surface.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he said with a straight face, and only after I stared at him for a beat did he break, laughing again as he took my hand in his.

Teasing him about his lifestyle was easy.

The scarier part was what lurked deep within me: the fact that I didn’t think he was lame at all, the fact that his little family was amazing, the fact that I loved the way he seemed so stable and welcoming and good.

Tonight, I would let myself have fun with him.

Tonight I’d forget about all of the rules.