Paul entered the bar, Joe’s, with a bit of a swagger in his step. He’d gotten the job, he’d actually gotten the job!

Not that he’d thought that he wouldn’t, it was just—even if you knew you were good at something, you were still nervous that maybe the boss wouldn’t agree. Or maybe you weren’t as good as you thought. But he’d done it. He was now a bartender for the busiest place in town.

When he’d first moved to the area, he’d done a quick internet search, and Joe’s was the place to be. Reviews on Yelp proved it’d been around for years, but it had really picked up in the last couple after a big makeover and the introduction of food. It was exactly the kind of place Paul wanted to be.

New town, new start. That was what he kept telling himself, anyway. Get a job as a bartender, meet some new people… have some fun…

Eventually it’ll get too rough and he’d have to clear out again. Paul shook that off. So what? He got to see new places, new faces, got to explore and have fun. Who needed to be tied down anyway?

Sure, maybe someday he would have his own bar. He didn’t let himself indulge in dreams often, but a small place to call his own was it. His name over the bar. People who knew him, liked him.

That hadn’t worked out so far, though, so why dwell on it? He was lucky enough to get this gig so soon after moving to a new place. That was the only thing worth focusing on: the present.

His new boss, Luke, a good looking burly guy, the same height as Paul, was already behind the bar. He waved as Paul walked over. Too bad there was a wedding ring on his left hand.

“Hey, Paul.” Luke grinned at him. “Glad to have you here. If you come with me to the back I can show you how to set things up for the night.”

This, Paul was good at. Each bar or restaurant had its own little quirks, its own tweaks on doing things, but the basics were the same. The drinks were all mostly the same. Paul could practically do this in his sleep; in no time he’d have a rhythm down.

About an hour into it, a group of five men entered the bar. The place was filling up, but these guys moved as a unit, joking and teasing one another. All of them were good looking. Paul worked hard to keep the grin off his face. Perfect.

The exceptionally tall one had the shortest one underneath his arm and a possessive air that screamed back off. Two of the others, one a roguish looking guy and the other very serious, were holding hands.

Four of them sat down at the bar, immediately greeting Luke. The fifth one wore a button-up shirt and a loosened tie with slicked-back black hair. He didn’t bother sitting down; instead walked around the bar to where Luke was finishing Paul’s tutorial.

“Well, hey stranger,” Luke said, wrapping an arm around the guy. They were the same height, but the other guy was a bit slimmer. Paul couldn’t help noticing how well the two of them fit together.

“Hey yourself,” the other guy replied, his voice surprisingly deep.

Paul figured this had to be Adam, the lawyer fiancé that Luke had mentioned a few times. Paul had wondered if Luke exaggerated his happiness, and the affection between them, but none of this was fake. Luke looked at Adam like he’d hung the moon, and the severe lines of Adam’s face faded and softened, his dark eyes growing warm as he smiled at Luke.

Paul turned away and focused on the others, ignoring the twinge in his gut. He gave it a year or so before the fights started. That was how it always went. No relationship lasted forever. Not even the supposedly blissful ones.

“You must be the friends Luke was telling me about,” he said, grinning.

Luke pulled away from Adam to gesture at Paul. “Guys, this is Paul, the new bartender.”

“Oh, thank God,” said the scruffy looking one in a Southern drawl. “I can stop helping you out.”

“Yeah, Matthew,” Luke replied, “that means you have to stop taking tips.”

Matthew flipped Luke off good-naturedly while the others laughed.

“I’m Lance,” said the smaller guy. He held out his hand for Paul to shake.

“Travis,” said his tall burly companion, who looked like he might deck Paul if he shook Lance’s hand for too long.

“I’m Matthew, obviously,” Matthew said, also shaking Paul’s hand. “This here’s Jake.”

“Luke warned me about you,” Paul said, winking at Jake. “Said you tend to cause trouble when you’re a few drinks in.”

“Luke’s a filthy liar,” Jake replied with a scowl.

“So that wasn’t you who caused a bar fight over a pool game?” Luke said innocently. “My mistake.”

“Sounds like I’ll fit right in here,” Paul said. And he meant it. Sure, it looked like all of them were taken but he could still use a wingman from time to time and a few partners in crime would be great.

“What brings you here?” Lance asked, clearly the peacemaking one.

“Kind of had to skip my last town, thought I’d try this one,” Paul said. No need to get into it further. Getting punched three times in one day by three exes wasn’t really something he wanted to talk about any time soon.

“You picked a good location,” Matthew said, southern charm coming into full play. “You’re close enough to the city without have to deal with the mess.”

“Seems like this place is hopping enough, I might not even have to go into the city to see some action,” Paul replied.

All six of the assembled men looked a little uncomfortable at that. Paul worked to keep the smile on his face. Had he said something wrong?

“So long as you don’t go breaking too many hearts in the process,” Luke said affably. “I think we’ve had enough bar fights between Travis and Payton to last us a lifetime.”

“I heard that!” another guy, obviously Payton, called from his booth to the side.

“And the last time I was in a bar fight was…” Travis paused, then looked at Lance. “How long have I been dating you?”

“That was a really smart thing to say,” Lance replied, his tone conveying the opposite.

“Don’t worry,” Paul said. “It’s possible to have fun without anybody getting hurt.” Or, at least, that was the theory.

If only people would understand that it wasn’t worth trying to have relationships. Why not just have a night or two of fun with someone and then move on? Otherwise you just ended up stuck, entrenched, trying to make something work when it never would.

He just looked for one-night stands, and others should be doing the same. Any guy he picked up should be smart enough to recognize a hook-up invitation when he heard it.

Anyway, he could see at least a dozen attractive men from where he stood. A group of firefighters included a gorgeous strawberry blond. And that guy, Payton, who apparently helped start bar fights, looked like he could probably pick Paul up with one arm if he felt like it.

Yeah, there’s plenty of fun to be had here.

The front door opened, and another guy entered. He hurried through the crowd, obviously eager to get to someone. Paul couldn’t help zeroing in on him. Lean, with the delicate kind of good looking, sharp, pronounced cheekbones and a full mouth. Taller than Lance, but definitely shorter than Luke and Adam, who were the tallest guys in the group besides the human tank, Travis.

Damn, he’s good looking. Paul couldn’t help giving the guy an appreciative smile. “Who’s that?”

Everyone glanced behind them. Some surreptitious looks exchanged between the friends.

“That,” Jake said blithely, taking a sip of his drink, “Is Davis.”