WHEN OLLIE TOLD us he’d be right back, I figured he was going to the restroom or maybe the bar for more food or drinks. What I didn’t expect was that he’d walk straight over to a surfer-looking guy, who greeted him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Whatever Deb had been saying faded into the background as I zeroed in on their interaction. The guy rubbed Ollie’s spine before Ollie broke off the embrace and took a step back. But as the two continued to converse, the other guy touched Ollie’s arm and leaned back into him to whisper something in his ear. The way the blond smiled at him and invaded his personal space made me think they’d been intimate with each other at some point. Or maybe even now. Ollie had said he was single, but maybe that didn’t refer to hookups.

I pushed my beer away as my stomach began to churn, and when the guy’s hand slid up Ollie’s arm again, a different scene sprang to my mind—one at a bowling alley with a guy in a red shirt, staring at Ollie in a way that made me want to give them privacy, but also made my blood heat.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I noticed you were giving your friend pointers, and I thought…maybe you could help me as well?” red shirt guy said, ignoring me completely as he licked his lips and smiled at Ollie.

“Actually, I’m a little busy—” Ollie said from where he stood beside me and had been showing me the right technique for keeping my bowling ball out of the gutter.

“That’s okay. I’m a quick learner.” He gave Ollie a long once-over. “It won’t take long.”

“I don’t think—”

“You should go.” The words came out of my mouth automatically, even though that was the last thing I wanted. “It’s selfish to keep you all to myself when you could be helping someone else.”

“Reid?”

My eyes snapped up to Ollie’s from where I’d apparently been staring off into space while lost in whatever that had been. That couldn’t have been a memory. I’d never been at a bowling alley with Ollie. Had I drifted off to sleep standing up or something?

I shook my head, erasing the images from my mind. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“Everything okay?” Ollie asked, coming around the table to stand beside me. When I looked up, Deb and Mike had resumed their conversation, but I could see them peeking over to see what was going on.

Way to make a scene by daydreaming, Reid.

“Everything’s good. Maybe need to lay off the drinks and eat something,” I said, and reached for another nacho.

“Yeah, of course, let’s go ahead and order. Did you decide what you want already?”

“Hmm. What’s good?”

Ollie flipped open a menu, and we both scanned over it. “Their chicken enchiladas are amazing, but I gotta say, their fish tacos bring it home for me.”

Something flickered on the edges of my mind. “Tacos?”

“Yeah. You like tacos, right?”

“With homemade seasoning,” I murmured. A mixing bowl. Spices spread out along the counter, and Ollie pouring them one at a time as he smiled at…me?

“Well, I don’t know how homemade the seasoning is here, but it gets the job done. You’ll have to come over the next time I make some and try it out.”

My forehead creased, and I rubbed it with my thumb. “You make your own?”

“It’s the only way.”

“Right.” I knew that. How did I know that?

“So what do you think?” Ollie said. “Wanna try ’em out?”

I could hear him talking, but all my mind could seem to focus on was the image of Ollie mixing spices. Get it together before he decides to cut the night short and take you home. “Sure. Fish tacos sound great.”

And they were. Fresh and perfectly flaky with some kind of creamy sauce that had me licking my fingers. When I moaned while savoring my last bite, Ollie chuckled.

“Doesn’t look like you enjoyed those at all. I really should give better recommendations,” he said.

“Yes, terrible choice. Absolutely hated them.” I grinned and sucked a bit of sauce from my finger, and Ollie’s eyes dropped down to my mouth. But then he quickly looked away, over to where Mike and Deb two-stepped on the dance floor. Or at least that was what I thought they were supposed to be doing. Mike seemed to be making up a few moves, complete with hip thrusts that had Deb laughing her ass off.

“Your friends are pretty interesting,” I said.

“That’s a nice way to put it.”

“I mean that in a good way. You’re lucky to have people who care about you the way they obviously do.”

“You think?”

“Yeah. They seem protective in that way that says they’ll kick the ass of anyone who messes with you. And they welcomed me tonight with no hesitation, not even knowing anything about me other than you invited me. Not to mention they’re hilarious.”

“Oh God. Please don’t say any of this to Mike. It’s already hard enough to get his ego through the door.”

I let out a laugh, because I had no doubt that was true, or at least half true. Mike seemed to be in on the joke. “Did you guys meet at work?”

“No, actually. We met before that.” He stopped and gripped the back of his neck as his cheeks turned pink. “I, uh, dated Deb’s cousin, so I’d met them at some dinner or…something.”

“Oh. So you could’ve been family, huh?”

“Well, they’re the closest thing I have to family, so yeah. I guess you could say I got them in the breakup.”

The closest thing to family? “You don’t have brothers or sisters? Family nearby?”

He shook his head. “I’m an only child. My parents passed away when I was seventeen, and I’ve been on my own ever since.”

Holy shit. For some reason, I wasn’t all that surprised at his words, but I was surprised at how they affected me. An intense wave of sympathy and crushing sadness filled my chest as I realized this man beside me, who I’d thought was so sure of himself when I met him, was all alone in the world, save for Mike and Deb. Or did he have anyone else? Aunts, uncles, cousins? Grandparents? I got the feeling if I asked him, he’d tell me no, because wouldn’t they have taken him in when his parents passed? And again I felt the twinge of guilt for how I’d treated my own parents over the last few weeks.

As if reading my thoughts, Ollie said, “It’s okay. I’m not a sob story, I promise.” Then he nudged me, trying to lighten the mood, but something else had popped into my brain, something that came out of nowhere but I knew to be true, though I didn’t know how.

“They died in a car accident, didn’t they? Your parents?”

Ollie’s brows shot up. “Good guess.”

But it wasn’t a guess. At least, I didn’t think it was. Shit. Had my accident caused me to become clairvoyant or something? First the bowling guy, then the taco seasoning, and now this? “Yeah,” I said, swallowing. “Lucky guess.”

As I looked over to where Mike and Deb were slow-dancing in the middle of the crowded floor, another pair of eyes nearby caught my attention. Blond surfer guy was staring at Ollie…or maybe he was staring between the two of us, I couldn’t tell, and something about the way he looked in our direction made me want to hit him—a reaction that surprised the shit out of me, considering I wasn’t usually a violent person and I didn’t know him from Adam. But when he didn’t look away, I finally asked Ollie who he was—not that it was any of my business.

Ollie looked over in the guy’s direction. “Who, Holland over there? He’s just someone I used to hang out with.”

Holland? What kind of a name is Holland? “Used to?”

“Yeah, I haven’t seen him in a while.”

“Why not?”

“Been busy.”

“But you used to date?”

He paused lifting his drink to his lips. “I wouldn’t call it that,” he said, and then finished off the iced water he’d switched to just as Mike and Deb came back to the table, and that was the end of that. I didn’t even know why I cared, but it bothered me that surfer guy had been anywhere near him. From his actions in the car the other day to tonight, Ollie seemed like too good of a guy to attach himself to someone slimy like that.

Oh please. I wanted to roll my eyes at myself. He’s probably a perfectly decent guy. Then, like a devil was sitting on my shoulder, I thought, Yeah, a perfectly decent guy who’s been in Ollie’s pants.

I scrubbed a hand over my face. What the hell? It wasn’t like I gave a shit who anyone else dated, especially not some guy I’d just met. Emphasis on guy.

God, I was officially losing it.

And on top of that, I was suddenly hyperaware of where Ollie was at all times. Every time he’d accidentally brush against my arm as he laughed at something Mike said, or when he’d reach across me to refill drinks, it felt like a shock of static. I wondered if he even felt it on his end, because he didn’t jerk away like I did when it happened.

One thing that stood out to me—Ollie smiled a lot, a genuine, wide grin that lit up his face. Sitting so close, I even noticed the small scar along the edge of his jaw, which I’d never seen before because it was mostly hidden by the scruff he kept trimmed down short, but it was there. I wondered how he’d gotten it.

“Do I have something on my face?” he asked, wiping his beard as he caught me staring.

“Uh, yeah, some sauce or something right there,” I lied, pointing to a spot on my chin, and he swept away the imaginary crumb.

“Did I get it?”

Damn, he had piercing eyes, so light green tonight that they almost glowed. They were the kind that forced you to spill all your secrets, but promised to keep them safe and hidden.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice coming out gravelly, and I cleared my throat. “Yeah, you got it.”

I turned my attention back to Mike and Deb, and the rest of the night passed with them lobbing insults not only at Ollie, but also at each other and sometimes even me, which, I had a feeling, meant they didn’t mind me crashing their party tonight. A couple of hours later, my stomach muscles ached from laughing so hard, and it made me hope this wasn’t the last time I’d score an invite out with the three of them. I hadn’t realized how desperately I’d been missing out on having people in my life to go out with or laugh with for a couple of hours. To make me feel somewhat human again, even if I wasn’t sure that I’d ever get my life back to normal. Or my old sense of normal, anyway.

“All right, all right, all right,” Mike bellowed, doing his best Matthew McConaughey impersonation, though it was a bit slurred. “What time is it?” He blinked down at his watch. “Holy shit. Woman, why you make me stay out so late?”

Deb winked at me. “It’s Reid’s fault. He kept making you do his tequila shots.”

“Ohh, that asshole,” Mike said, narrowing his eyes at me. “Next time, you hold your own damn liquor. I’m not a storage closet.”

“I think he means human garbage disposal,” she whispered loudly.

“That’s what I said.” Mike rounded the table and gave Ollie a hug. Or fell into him, rather.

“I’ll drop you guys off,” Ollie said, as Mike then gave me a hug.

“Thanks, but I already confirmed an Uber.” Deb lifted her phone to show us the little black car moving toward Wilder’s, and then she came over to me, lifting up on her tiptoes to smack a kiss to my cheek. “You’re gonna come hang out with us again soon, right? You have to. Don’t let Ollie keep you away.” Then she turned and pointed a stern finger in Ollie’s direction. “You hear me, Olls? You make him come back.”

“I’ll be sure to drag him out against his will if he even thinks about protesting,” Ollie agreed.

That seemed to appease Deb, because she said, “Good boy,” and then patted my jaw before Mike put his arm around her shoulder.

“The chariot awaits, my lady,” he said, leading her away, and then, over his shoulder, he pointed at me. “Don’t think you’re getting out of karaoke next week.”

“I’ll make sure to bring my cotton balls for Ollie’s performance,” I said.

“Ohhh shit!” Mike said, as the three of them went slack-jawed. “He went there. Ollie, he went there, and I think I’m in love. Deb, I’m leaving you, sorry.” Mike stumbled back in my direction, and Deb laughed and pulled him back.

“You stupid ass. He’d make you sleep outside,” she said as his arm went back around her shoulders, and then she winked at us. “Later, guys.”

“Bye, Deb. Make sure his alarm is set,” Ollie said, and when he faced me again, he shook his head. “Well. You survived.”

I checked over my arms and legs. “No battle wounds that I can see. They weren’t too scary.”

“No? I’ll make sure they bring it next time.”

So there would be a next time… “Looking forward to it,” I said—and meant it.

“Good. You about ready to head out?”

“Yeah, gimme five minutes?”

“Sure.”

I walked down the narrow hallway toward the one-stall bathrooms, but when the door was locked, I leaned against the wall to wait. A minute later, the door opened, and out came surfer guy—Holland, Ollie had called him. Stupid name—and when he saw me, he stopped and gave me a long once-over, letting the door shut behind him.

“No wonder Ollie wasn’t up for getting together later,” he said, a lazy smile tipping his lips.

“Excuse me?”

His eyes met mine and he smirked. “I meant that as a compliment. You’re sexy as hell.”

Okay, that wasn’t what I’d been expecting. “Uh…thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, and then mimicked my pose, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. “You know, I hadn’t realized Ollie was seeing anyone, but I guess you two are serious, huh?”

“No, sorry. I think you’re mistaking me for someone else.”

The guy laughed, his pearly whites flashing in the dim light. “Nah, I’d never forget a face, especially one as handsome as yours. You’ve been dating since, what, February? I saw you guys at Fisherman’s Grill one night, but I was on a date of my own, so I didn’t come say hello.”

My face burned as I stepped back. “You’ve got the wrong guy. We just met.”

“Sure you did, sweet pea,” he said, laughing again. “I wouldn’t be ashamed of claiming that man as mine. You let me know if you decide to give him up. Or vice versa.” With a wink, he pushed off the wall and brushed past me, and it wasn’t until I reached for the door handle that I realized my hands were shaking.

What the hell was that? Why would he think I was with Ollie back in February, for God’s sake? Do I have a twin I don’t know about?

I quickly finished and met Ollie back at the table, where he was stacking up the glasses on the table for the wait staff to have an easy cleanup. There was a signed copy of a bill next to him, and I scanned the table for mine.

“Did they forget to print mine out?” I asked.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I got it tonight.” Ollie shoved a copy in his back pocket and inclined his head toward the front door. “You ready?”

With my mind still on my bathroom encounter, I nodded absently and followed him out to the parking lot. I wasn’t sure how to bring up what Holland had said back there, or why it bothered me so much when he’d obviously gotten the wrong person, but after a night of strange images and flashes berating my brain, I was feeling more than a little confused and overwhelmed. I just needed to sleep it off, right? Right. Maybe I’d just gotten overstimulated or something. Like a fucking cat. Or maybe alcohol had screwed with my head. Then I thought back to the way Ollie had looked at my mouth for the briefest of moments and that he’d paid for me tonight, and I wasn’t sure what to think anymore. Maybe I’d had this whole night wrong.

Ollie must’ve caught on to my sudden change in mood, because he said, “Are you sure Mike and Deb didn’t scare you off? I know they’re a bit of a handful, and on tequila, it’s amped up about a hundred percent.”

“No, your friends are great. I really like them a lot. Wild, but great.”

“Whew. You got quiet for a minute there, so I wasn’t sure.”

I hadn’t planned to say anything, really I hadn’t, but the words came blurting out before I could stop them. “This wasn’t a date, you know.”

He gave me a strange look. “Yeah, I know.”

“Then why did you pay for me?”

“I paid for Mike and Deb’s food too. Friends do that sometimes. That a problem?”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I’m aware. But I wanted to. I invited you out. And it’s the least I can do for subjecting you to Mike’s mouth all night.”

“Oh. Well…thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I could sense him looking over at me, but I wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Is there something else wrong?”

“No.”

“Reid, I can feel the tension coming off you in waves. Did you not have a good time tonight?”

“I did.”

“So…?”

I had a feeling he wasn’t gonna let it go until I told him what was really bothering me, and even though it was an irrational thing to say, I found the words coming out anyway as I spun around to face him. “Look, I’m not gay.”

Ollie raised an eyebrow. “I know.”

“Do you? Because it doesn’t feel that way.”

He stopped walking. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m saying is this some kind of game you have with your friends? Try to turn the straight guy?” My anger and confusion combined and kept tumbling out, and I couldn’t make it stop.

“Excuse me?”

“Because if it is, you’re barking up the wrong tree.”

“Whoa,” he said, holding up his hands. “When have I ever given you the impression tonight that I was hitting on you? Besides paying the bill, which was not a big deal.”

“The guy back there? The one you hugged? He said he saw me with you one night at Fisherman’s Grill before.”

Ollie went to reply, stopped short, and stared at me. “He said what?”

“Why would he think he saw me with you? I know I’ve never been there with you, so what’s the deal, huh? Do I look like someone you used to date? Is that why you invited me out tonight?”

Even with just the lights of the restaurant to illuminate us, I could see that his face had gone ghostly white, and his body was so still that I wasn’t sure if he was still breathing. When he spoke again, his voice strained barely above a whisper. “No. I didn’t invite you out because you look like someone I dated. I don’t know why Holland would tell you that. I’m sorry if he made you uncomfortable.”

My mouth clamped shut, and I scrubbed a hand over my face. “No, I’m sorry. That was an asshole thing to say. I don’t even know why I said it.”

Ollie stared at me for a long minute, like he was trying to figure out who the hell had taken over my personality, and quite frankly, I was wondering the same thing. Why had I felt the need to bring any of that up? I’d never cared what anyone thought of me before, and it wasn’t like I was bothered over Ollie being gay, or anyone thinking I was, for that matter.

Ollie’s jaw ticked as he unlocked the car, and once we were both inside, he said, “You may find this hard to believe, but gay people have platonic friends too. Not everyone is a sexual target.”

“I know that,” I said in a quiet voice. “I didn’t mean it.”

“Do you have a habit of saying things you don’t mean?”

“Lately I seem to.”

“And why is that?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Automatic defensive reflex, maybe?” he said.

“Yeah. Maybe.”

He sighed and stared out the window. “Look, Reid. I know you’ve got a lot going on right now. There’s probably a lot you don’t understand, stuff you’re still figuring out, but do me a favor. Don’t take it out on the people trying to help you.”

His words struck a chord with me, sending a pang through my chest. “I apologize. I think this was a mistake.”

“What, coming out tonight?”

“I’m just a little…fucked up right now.” Yeah, that wasn’t even the half of it. I was being ridiculous. He knew it, I knew it, and I couldn’t for the life of me understand why. All I knew was that I was entirely too pissed off about that guy Holland, and I was paying way too much attention to Ollie’s mouth, the way he had mine earlier. But I’d meant what I said: I wasn’t gay. Not that I hadn’t noticed Ollie when we’d get our coffee every morning at Joe’s, but how could you help but notice him? He was a big guy. But now I wasn’t so sure that was the only reason.

What the hell is happening to me?

It was dead silent the entire drive to my apartment, one of those uncomfortable silences where you knew you needed to fill it with apologies or explanations, but the words wouldn’t come out. I couldn’t unravel the conflict and chaos warring inside of me. On one hand, I’d enjoyed the night more than I’d ever expected to, and it had more to do with the man beside me than Mike and Deb’s jokes. There was something inherently kind about Ollie, even now, as he patiently deflected the jabs I’d hurled his way. It made me wonder why he bothered with me, and if he ever would again. I wouldn’t blame him for cutting ties and running, though for some inexplicable reason, the thought of never seeing him again sent a blast of panic through me.

Once we were in my neighborhood, Ollie circled around until he found an open parking space, but he didn’t shut off the car.

“For the record, I’m not sorry you came out tonight,” he said, and then looked over at me. “I’m only sorry you feel it was a mistake.”

With my hand on the door handle, I opened my mouth to apologize, but the words dissolved on my tongue with one look at the sincerity on his face. The truth was that the guy scared me—not in a boogie man kind of way, but in a way that had me questioning everything I thought I knew about myself. More than anything, I hated that I’d disappointed him, but I had a feeling any apology I gave tonight would be tossed aside, and so I simply thanked him for letting me tag along and headed upstairs to my empty apartment—alone and more miserable than I had been in a long time.