Drip. Drip. Drip.

George groaned as the stepped into the bathroom Monday morning before work and spotted the faucet leaking—again. It'd taken management forever to get around to fixing the leak the first time it had shown up. The thought of needing to get them back to his apartment again made him instantly stressed.

George’s apartment building wasn’t the worst on the market—but it wasn’t the best, either. The price and location were decent, but the building itself was old and his dealings with management always left much to be desired. Aside from the faucet dripping, he’d also had issues with one of his heaters that took two weeks to be addressed—in the dead of winter.

He hated confrontation, which meant he put dealing with people for inconveniences off as long as possible. It didn't help that he had a feeling the property manager, Delores, didn't like him. He wasn't sure what he’d done, but ever since he’d moved in, it felt like she was giving him the cold shoulder. Even when he finally did get around to interacting with her and other management, things never seemed to go right. His lease was almost up and he was considering not signing again, but that in itself was stressful, too. He simply didn't want to deal with the hassle of moving.

George sighed as he fiddled with the faucet and tried to get it to stop leaking.

No luck.

While he wasn't the most handy of men, he figured he could at least fix the leak himself, but he was also terrified of what could go wrong. Plus, as much as he hated the thought, he needed to ask how much notice was needed for moving out—just in case. He couldn't find the information in his lease or other personal papers.

After getting ready for work, he headed down to the lobby and into the office. Delores was there and George bit back his nerves as he approached. “Good morning,” he greeted, trying to be cheerful and casual. “Um, my faucet is leaking again...”

Delores smiled, but it was thin and unnatural. “I'll put in a work order for it.”

“Thanks.” His nerves got the best of him and he didn't stick around long enough to ask about the timeframe for a notice to vacate. All he wanted to do was get to work.

Ahh, work.

George was one of those rare breeds of people who actually enjoyed their job, so when he walked into the bookstore about twenty minutes later, a relieved smile settled across his lips.

He'd been working at Dog Ears, a mid-sized indie bookstore, for a few years. It was big enough to draw in a steady stream of customers, but small enough that that it felt like a gem in the rough. There had been fears of the place going out of business because of digital competitors, but Dog Ears held its own. George figured one of Dog Ears' advantage was its large and solid selection of LGBT books. The place also did a lot of workshops for the community.

He dreamed of one day owning a bookstore like this for himself, although he knew that likely wasn't the wisest business venture right now.

“Good morning,” greeted a familiar voice. George’s coworker and friend, Davin, was behind the counter and tidying up. Davin was around the same age as George was, in his late twenties, but was taller and didn't wear glasses.

“Hey,” George greeted, locking up the front door behind him. They wouldn’t be ready to open for another few minutes. “Did I miss anything interesting over the weekend?”

“Nah,” Davin said as he wiped down the counter with a cloth. “Pretty much the same old stuff as usual. How was the reunion?”

George's smile faltered slightly at the question as he removed his coat and tucked it behind the counter. “It was... interesting,” he threw out, not quite sure if he wanted to actually talk about what happened yet or not.

“Uh oh, that doesn't sound good,” Davin said with a light frown as he folded up the cloth and stopped wiping.

George's cheeks grew hot as he became flustered. “The reunion itself was nice enough, although I honestly didn't see many people.” He hesitated, his voice dropping as he confessed, “I ran into my best friend from high school that I haven't heard from in ages.”

“Well, that's good, isn't it?” Davin questioned, furrowing his brows.

“Yeah, it's good, but it was kind of weird, too... I had a major crush on the guy,” George admitted as he took the folded-up cloth from Davin, unfolded it, and started wiping everything down again. He needed something to keep his hands busy.

“Ahh... So what happened?” Davin asked as he leaned against the counter.

“We had sex,” George blurted.

Davin's brows rose high as he laughed with surprise. “Congrats, man!”

George blushed even more intensely than before. “Shh! I don't know if it's something that should be congratulated...” he muttered.

“Why, was he terrible in bed?”

“N-No,” George was quick to defend. “It's just... I kind of wanted something more, you know? You know me: I'm not a flingy guy.”

“Did you go into it knowing it might just be a fling?”

“Yeah, I was trying to make myself be bold and just have fun, but I guess I was kind of hoping it'd turn into something more,” George admitted, his stomach churning. “When we talked about it the next day, though, he made it pretty clear that it really was just a fling.”

“Aw, man. I'm sorry,” Davin said as he rubbed George's shoulder.

“It was silly, anyway,” George dismissed, although he appreciated the human contact. “I don't have time for a relationship, anyway.”

“Afraid it'd cut into your reading time?” Davin inquired.

“Excuse me?” George couldn't help but to take some offense.

“I know you love your books, but I really don't think it'd hurt for you to go out more often,” Davin continued. “Maybe the fling didn't turn into what you wanted, but at least you got some, right? You put yourself out there and had some fun. I think you need more of that in your life right now.”

George worked his jaw around. Maybe Davin was right. Although he loved losing himself in a good book, it was starting to get harder to be alone all the time.

“Maybe you're right...” George murmured, although even as he said it, he still wasn't entirely convinced.

“Of course I'm right.” Davin grinned as he clapped George on the shoulder and walked past him. “I'm going to open up now.”

“Sure thing.” George put the cloth back down, wiped his hands, then headed out onto the floor. After taking a steading breath, he plastered a smile on his face and buried himself in his work. If he was lucky, it'd keep thoughts of Nick out of his head.