Ethan shook Crow’s hand and felt his world tilt off its axis. He never wanted to let go. When their hands parted, Ethan felt a burning imprint of Crow’s fingers around his. Then a stab of guilt.

What the fuck am I doing?

He drank his whiskey, feeling the pressure of the growing crowd around them. It seemed like everyone was eyeing Ethan, wondering what made him so special, why the main attraction was seemingly interested in him. He could feel the eyes, the jealousy. It was weird. That, mixed with the ball of guilt growing in his gut, and he was ready to leave. This wasn’t him. This life left him a long time ago, snuffed out in the blink of an eye. He wasn’t the type to flirt with guys in a bar—much less flirt with a guy like Crow.

And then he looked up from the bar and found Crow’s light brown eyes and everything he had been worried about disappeared. He saw something there, and it wasn’t the reflection of the amber lanterns that hung above them.

“I have a reserved table over there, let’s go,” Crow said, smiling with his drink in his hand. He nodded to the corner of the bar, the farthest, by the stage.

The booth with the palm tree.

“I should be heading home.” The words burned on the way out.

“Come on,” Crow said, batting heavy eyelashes in a puppy dog look that would have stopped a world war in its tracks. “Give me fifteen minutes. That’s all. Then, if I don’t like whiskey, you can leave.”

“And if you do end up liking it?”

Crow’s lips curled mischievously as he turned and started through the crowd. Ethan shook his head, feeling the anxiety in his chest start dissipating, being replaced by a warm rush. He got up from his seat and followed Crow through the crowd. Crow had his head down, clearly on a mission to get somewhere, so no one seemed to bother him, although Ethan noticed a sea of shocked expressions left behind in Crow’s wake.

It seemed like everyone agreed: Crow looked even better up close and in person.

They made it to the table with only a few stealth selfies being shot on the way there. The reserved table had been roped off a few feet away with a thick red velvet rope, giving the two men some much needed breathing room. Crow slid into the booth first. Ethan slid in across from him, the soft black leather cushion shaping to his body.

Just don’t look at it. No need.

Instead of looking to the corner of the table, he kept his eyes locked on Crow’s. He was finding them to be a sort of antidote to the conflicting feelings sparring inside him. One side of him wanted to be there, getting to know the man who had sparked something in the very air that separated them. Then, there was the other side, the one that said this was wrong. He wasn’t meant to be this happy over someone he had met minutes ago. He shouldn’t be as entranced as he was, especially not sitting in the same booth that had changed his life all those years ago.

“So,” Crow said, and looking over the alcohol menu. “What do you recommend first, professor?”

Ethan leaned over the table, looking at the menu which Crow tilted his way. He caught a whiff of Crow’s oaky cologne in the air, mixed with a sensual scent of Crow underneath. He managed to push past that distraction and pointed out a few samplers they could try. With the order placed, Ethan sat back, doing his best to avoid the damn palm tree.

“Is it like this for you every night?” Ethan nodded toward the crowd of fans doing a terrible job of taking subtle pictures. Or, maybe they weren’t even trying to be subtle.

“Not really, actually. Tonight’s a little different. I’m kicking off my first national tour so everyone’s here to see me, but normally, things are way more low-key. My old boss, Red Miller, he gets mobbed everywhere he goes so this doesn’t even seem that crazy.”

“You used to work for someone?” Ethan found that hard to believe. Crow looked like the kind of guy who had it made from day one.

Crow chuckled. “Yeah, of course. I got lucky in that we basically became best friends after a while, so it didn’t feel too much like a job, but I was his personal assistant until a few months ago. That’s when my music sort of took off.”

Ethan couldn’t hold back his smile, matching the one Crow took on when he spoke about music. It was clear he was passionate about his career, and that was something that Ethan found incredibly attractive. He thought passion was something to be admired, coveted.

“How about you?” Crow asked, putting his hands on the scratched up wooden table. “You work for anyone?”

“I’m a doctor,” Ethan answered. “A family physician over at Sierra View.”

Crow’s eyebrows shot up. “Doctor? Wow, sorry, I was expecting you to say a detective or something.”

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t know, you just seem… kind of like a badass. Like I could picture you figuring out national scandals, not delivering diagnosis results.”

“I have great bedside manner, I’ll have you know.”

“Oh, I’m sure you do.”

There it was. The flirty line that served as chum in shark infested waters. Crow was trying to draw Ethan in, and fuck, it was working.

“Not that I have absolutely anything against it,” Crow said, “obviously, you said doctor and my basement fucking flooded.”

Ethan snorted at that. It caught him completely off guard.

“That’s amazing, though, really,” Crow continued. “My twin is actually in medical school now, over at UCLA. I think he wants to do his residency at Sierra View.”

Ethan smiled at that. “He’ll be in good hands there.”

The bartender showed up, placing the first tray of whiskey samples on the center of the table. This drew Ethan’s eye to the corner. The palm tree.

Ethan felt himself tense. He momentarily zoned out, going back to this place, all those years ago. The day he etched that palm tree on the corner of the table, across from the man who he had fallen so desperately hard for.

“Ok, which one first?”

Crow’s voice snapped Ethan out of it. He wasn’t here to reminisce and get lost in the past. As much of a stab as it was, he needed to move on and this was part of it. He would try to enjoy the next fifteen minutes and then go home, content with the twist the night had taken. He’d wake up and go on living his life as though nothing had changed.

An hour and a half of whiskey sampling passed by. It was also an hour and a half of incredible conversation and seriously delectable eye candy. Ethan caught himself, on multiple occasions, staring at Crow’s lips as he tried each of the whiskeys. They had ordered a few different tasting flights, all coming out on fancy oak paddles, the thick whiskey glasses set in a row across the center, so Crow had plenty to choose from. Ethan enjoyed watching his expressions turn from ‘what the fuck is this shit,’ to ‘eh it’s alright’ to ‘oh ok, I think get it’. That happened toward the end, when they had reached the more expensive and lighter bodied whiskeys.

“You’ve got some expensive taste,” Ethan joked as the waiter took away the last paddle. Time had completely slipped by them. Ethan glanced down at his Apple watch and saw that there were only ten minutes left until closing. Sure enough, the music cut out and the DJ announced last call.

“I think you did it. I think you taught me how to like whiskey. There’s something about appreciating the ‘notes’… fuck, that sounds pretentious.”

Ethan laughed, matching Crow’s. He wasn’t completely at ease, but he was definitely without many walls, and the laughs only served to knock down a few more barriers. “Not at all. It’s the right terminology.” Ethan narrowed his eyes. “Now, if you start wearing a top hat and raising your pinky, I may start to worry.”

“Are you saying I can’t pull off a top hat?”

You can pull off anything.

“Potentially,” Ethan said with a shrug.

Crow shook his head, feigning offense. “So, I never ended up telling you what happens if I win my side of the bet.” The lights came on.

Ethan swallowed down the last of his whiskey. He was feeling drunker than he had been in a while, and that had his emotions in a whirlwind. There was a definite Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde thing going on inside. He knew exactly where this was headed and he wanted it, but then Jekyll would tear through, making him realize that this was all a big farce. Crow was going to be an empty one-night stand and that was it. He would feel even emptier after, realizing that he would never find what he once had. That realization would hit like a train wreck, potentially pushing Ethan into a hole he wouldn’t be able to dig himself out of.

“I’m sorry,” Ethan said. He had to cut this off now. Things couldn’t progress any further. “I have to go. You’re an incredible singer, your tour is going to be incredible.”

Ethan got up, his knees wobblier than he thought. He pulled his phone out, ready to order his ride home. That was when he felt two hands close around his wrists. Strong hands. Warm. He looked up from his phone. Crow was smiling. Those pearly white teeth were framed by a grin that warmed everything in Ethan’s body, from his toes to his cock to his head. Everything was flooded with a warmth he couldn’t explain.

And then came a kiss that blew that warmth up into a raging inferno. The entire bar melted away, the earth crumbling underneath their heat. A kiss so passionate, Ethan moaned seconds into it. He hadn’t lost himself like that in years. To the point of being unable to control the sounds coming out of his own throat. Another moan. Crow’s hands came up to tangle in Ethan’s head, Ethan putting his phone on the table and then grabbing Crow’s hips. Sparks —nah, fuck that, lightning strikes —were flying between and around them. Ethan was sure they had destroyed the entire world with the force of their kiss.

And then it was over. They separated, the moment loaded, their silence saying more than the chatter of the emptying bar around them.

“I…”

Want to go home with you. I want to talk to you all night, fuck you all day, and sleep next to you for the rest of the time. Wake up and do it again. I want to know you inside and out. You intrigue me on a level I haven’t felt since I lost him. I want you, Crow Kensworth. I fucking want you.

“…should go. I have to be at the hospital early, tomorrow.”

“Right, right.” Crow looked disappointed. Ethan couldn’t keep looking into his eyes. He felt himself breaking apart like a cocoon. He pulled out his phone again and ordered his cab.

He went to sleep that night. He never remembered his dreams when he woke up, but he did remember one thing about that night.

Ethan remembered Crow’s voice, his song flowing through his dream like an ethereal thread.