After a long, difficult, brain-wrecking week of programming, the weekend arrived. With it came the desire to treat myself. I’d been eating well, exercising at the gym every other day, and I deserved a break.

A break. I was kidding myself about that. I didn’t take breaks. Even my days of relaxation were the same as the rest, following a routine I’d established long ago. I played video games, read, skipped my workout, and played more games. Things only ever changed when I had a work function to attend, or an event that I couldn’t get out of, like a wedding.

I took a look at nearby restaurants to see what caught my interest and found myself automatically skimming past the ones I never went to.

Suddenly, I was disgusted with myself. Everything the same. I was never going to accomplish anything this way. After living my whole life like this, I should have learned by now.

Fuck it, I snarled inwardly at myself. I’m switching things up. No more getting stuck in a rut. It’s ruined my life.

I picked a restaurant at random, a Japanese one, and opened up a new browser on my computer to search for the menu. A lot of the dishes were familiar and appealing to me, but I’d already decided I wasn’t going to do that anymore.

I chose something random from the menu that I had no idea what it was, and even less of an idea if I would be able to pronounce it correctly. Oh, well. There was no turning back now.

I grabbed my phone and dialed the restaurant. A cheerful young woman picked up the phone and took my hastily stammered order without questioning or correcting me.

I hung up the phone and glanced at the time. New year, new me … off to a good start. Baby steps, right?

With the usual traffic, as everyone came home from work and headed out to dinner, if I left now, I’d arrive just in time for my food to be ready.

I felt a little lazy for driving, and if my neighborhood had been closer to the shops, I probably would have walked. The wind wasn’t so bad today, and the sun shone brightly in the deep blue sky, even though dusk was only a few hours away. Glimpses of the mountains between skyscrapers revealed gorgeous, glittering, snow-capped summits that made me shiver.

I didn’t doubt that we’d have more snow before winter ended, and I wasn’t sure whether I was looking forward to it or not. Something about watching the kids play outside, and seeing couples cozy up to each other in matching sweaters, really rubbed me the wrong way.

Biting my lip to stave away the irritable feelings brewing inside me, I pulled my thoughts away from the subject and left for the restaurant.

When I arrived, every parking spot I could see was occupied. I drove up and down the rows for a minute, but no one seemed likely to leave any time soon.

I pulled out of the parking lot again and drove down a side street, then did a U-turn so I could park on the opposite side of the road.

“Good enough,” I muttered, and stepped out.

The cold hit me and stole my breath, like a punch to the lungs. Too hungry to stand around and appreciate the ornery weather, I went to the crosswalk and jogged over it and down the short length of sidewalk to the restaurant.

Lunging the last few paces, I grabbed the door and yanked it open. Stepping inside, I pulled it shut behind me, cutting off the wind. The scent of noodles and frying fish hit me like a delicious wave, and my stomach growled in response.

The pick-up counter was to my right, and, beyond that, the regular restaurant. On my left was a smaller section for private functions and I caught glimpses of banners and balloons and people. So many people. The conversations that filtered from that room were loud enough that I could almost eavesdrop from here if I wanted to.

I moved to the counter to get my food, but before I took more than a few steps, someone walked by me so closely our shoulders knocked together. Turning automatically, I reached out to steady the other person, knowing from experience that people who bumped into me tended to rebound like they’d smacked into a brick wall.

I found myself gripping the slender shoulder of a lithe omega with tousled brown hair and eyes that seemed narrowed in permanent amusement. A look of surprise flickered across his face, dancing over his delicate features, and then he caught himself and grinned. “I did that on purpose.”

“What?” I asked, baffled.

The omega pointed at my shirt. “Twilight Princess? What Zelda fan actually liked that game?”

I looked down at my shirt and then back up, not sure whether I should have my hackles up or not. I was used to the abrasive nature of the nerd community, but no one had ever called me out like that before.

“I saw you wearing that, and I thought to myself, here’s a guy who needs some sense jolted into him.”

Now I felt defensive. “I liked it even before it was remastered. I don’t think it was cringe-y or trying too hard. It had interesting mechanics, even if some of it could have been executed better. And I like wolves.”

The omega laughed. “Good points. I liked Windwaker best.”

“Another hotly-debated title,” I noted.

“Maybe I need some sense knocked into me, too,” he said. “I like talking boats.”

I found myself laughing, which startled me. I had no idea who he was or why he had taken any sort of interest in me.

It was flattering, in a weird sort of way. He was half my age and completely out of my league, and he had clearly been in a rush to get somewhere else. But he had stopped to talk to me.

I realized I’d been laughing a little longer than his comment dictated and quickly stopped and cleared my throat. He looked at me with his narrowed eyes, honey-brown and warm. His nose was crinkled, and he had a dimple on one cheek. Really, he was adorable.

“Uh,” I said, and couldn’t find anything else to say. Heat started to rise to my cheeks and I glanced away, wondering if I could save myself and make my escape. But no, there wasn’t anyone at the counter right now. Even if I moved away, I couldn’t hide from my embarrassment.

“I actually didn’t mean to bump into you,” the gorgeous omega admitted, as if I hadn’t already figured that out. “I honestly just wasn’t looking where I was going.”

I made a wild guess, desperate for some reason to keep this conversation going. “You late for the party going on over there?”

He laughed. “Sort of. I’m in charge of it. Leo Dyer, Event Planner and personal cheerleader, at your service.”

Leo. I repeated his name to myself and decided it suited him. He did have the forceful, outgoing nature I’d associate with such a fierce moniker.

Leo blinked at me and I winced, knowing I should have responded by now. Why was I being so slow and idiotic around him? “I-I’m Malcolm Carlyle.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Malcolm,” Leo said, and it sounded like the truth, not like something a person said just because they were being polite.

“Same,” I said. “So ... an event planner?”

“It’s a baby shower for some friends of mine. I like to plan things like that, even for people who aren’t my friends.”

Leo grinned, showing that dimple of his again. My stomach tingled.

“You wouldn’t happen to have an event coming up or anything, would you?” He lowered his voice and winked at me conspiratorially. “I’m trying to build up my portfolio.”

My stomach twisted at that wink, and I racked my brain trying to come up with something ... and then wondered why I was thinking about it in the first place. “Not really,” I replied with a shrug.

“Shame.” Leo held up his hand. I looked at it for a long moment and then reached out to take it, realizing only at the last second that he had a business card between his fingers. Sweating from my own stupidity, I hurriedly switched direction and snatched up the card.

Please, don’t let him have noticed that.

With his pervasive amusement, it was hard to tell. More heat rose inside me, and I wished that I could melt the floor and sink between the floorboards, never to be seen or heard from again. This was torture.

“If you think of anything, give me a call,” Leo said. “I’m just starting out, so my rates are really reasonable.”

“I’ll think of you,” I stammered.

Leo smiled again and pushed a stray curl off his forehead. “I should get back. They’re waiting on me.”

“O-okay.”

“See you, Malcolm. You’ve got my number now....” His white teeth flashed, and then he was on his way back to the noise of the party before I could say anything else to embarrass myself.

I didn’t mean to, but I just had to watch him. He flounced rather than ran, a spring in every step. Such a young, happy guy. He wasn’t weighed down by troubles like me.

He disappeared through the doorway, and that was the last I saw of him. It was like a spell had been broken, and I was finally able to wrench myself away towards the takeout desk to collect my food.

I never did get to find out what it was that I’d ordered. Sure, I brought it home, and ate it, and it was probably good, but I couldn’t recall what it looked like or how it tasted. I had only one thing on my mind.

Leo. He had seen me wearing my Zelda shirt, and hadn’t stopped to comment on my age, or anything I would have expected. Instead, he’d treated me the same way he would a regular person.

No, not like a regular person. Like I was special. He’d talked to me as though I was the only person in the restaurant. All of his focus and attention had been on me right up until the very end.

Maybe that was just how he was. We were strangers, and I didn’t know his personality, so he could very well be one of those people who made everyone feel good when they were around him.

That being said … it had been nice.

I looked at his business card again and rubbed my thumb over his phone number before filing it away in my Rolodex ... just in case. In case of what?

It wasn’t as thought I would ever see him again; but the feeling of talking to him, of enjoying myself even during such short conversation, was new and exciting ... and a little frightening. I wasn’t sure I’d survive another encounter like that.

The weekend passed, Monday rolled back around, and I was back at my desk, stabbing the keyboard with my fingers and wishing it was Friday all over again. I managed to finish the preliminary stage of my project, sent it off for review and testing, and fiddled around with my emails until I could clock out and not have it look odd.

I didn’t normally take off early. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d even had a sick day. But for some reason, I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to get out.

There was an urge inside me, a restlessness, that demanded I leave and get moving, even though I normally would have stuck around until the actual end of my shift. My spine crawled, and my thoughts strayed, tugging me along for the ride. There didn’t seem to be any questioning it, so I didn’t.

Once I was outside, I found that it was a little warmer than I’d thought. The chilled wind was a perfect complement to the unseasonably balmy weather.

Just instinct, I guess, I thought, climbing into my car. I didn’t want to be trapped in the Cave while it was this nice out.

Suddenly, I made a spur-of-the-moment decision. This day was too good to waste huddled up inside my house playing video games, like a mouse in its burrow.

What I needed was a picnic. A light dinner, eaten outside at the park. How long had it been since I was at a park, anyway?

I pulled out of the lane I was in, feeling my routine shattering and raining down all around me. I picked up a Diet Coke and a turkey-and-Swiss sandwich from a corner deli, and was just walking back to my car when someone’s shoulder bumped against mine.

I hadn’t been paying attention, and I almost dropped the bag I was holding. Out of nowhere, a hand swept in and caught my bag before it could hit the ground.

I turned and saw that the person holding my picnic was none other than Leo Dyer. “We have to stop literally running into each other like this,” he chirped.

I frowned, tried to make it playful, and gave up and forced myself to smile even though it felt like I was grimacing. “At least I’m not wearing a Twilight Princess shirt this time.”

“No,” Leo conceded as he looked me up and down, “but you’re wearing a suit and look grim as hell. How can a man buying…” He peeked into my bag. “… Ruffles and Coke look so grim?”

“I was on a mission.”

Leo widened his eyes teasingly. In the light day, as opposed to the dim ambiance of the restaurant, I was able to see the color of his eyes better and was amazed by just how many shades of gold there were in those honey-brown depths. How had I not appreciated brown eyes before now?

“What kind of a mission?” he asked, interrupting my appraisal.

“To enjoy myself a little,” I admitted.

“Oh. Well, see, there’s this skill you haven’t learned yet that you need to accomplish your mission. A side quest, if you catch my meaning.”

He looked so serious, so sweet, that I had to play along. “Oh, really? What is it?” I breathed, hanging onto his every word.

“Smiling! You have to smile, Malcolm! How else are you going to know you’re having fun?” I smiled at him, and he laughed. “See? Easy, isn’t it?”

“Around you, it is,” I replied. Then I realized what I'd said and was horrified at how I’d just blurted it out. God, I probably looked like some sort of creep who preyed on younger men.

But, amazingly, defying all the logic I could think of, Leo grinned wider and said, “I get that a lot.”

I’ve already dug myself a hole. Might as well go even deeper. “You must be making someone very happy.”

Leo pushed his hair back from his face and shrugged. “Not really.”

Not really? Was that the same thing as no? He didn’t have a partner? Or was I being a lecherous old man again?

Leo looked me up and down and tilted his head to one side. When he looked at me in that way, so calculating, so curious, my skin burned, my stomach went tight, and it was suddenly difficult to breathe. It was like he was looking right through me.

“I don’t want to interrupt your mission,” he said, slowly, as if trying to figure out the words as they came. “But maybe sometime you’d like to tell me how it went?”

“A date?” I said, and immediately regretted it.

But, as he seemed very capable of doing, Leo didn’t make me feel stupid for what I’d said. Instead, he nodded. “I don’t see why not. You’re interesting, Malcolm. I want to learn more about you.”

Now, I had a choice to make. Did I accept this offer from someone I hardly knew? I wasn’t that old, as much as it felt that way sometimes. I could keep up with Leo.

I wanted to, but was it the right thing to do? I had to think about it.

Leo saved me again. “Just something simple. I happen to know of a great coffee place. I’m friends with the owner.

“We could chat a little and play some games; he’s got some great board games, even some vintage ones. Are you in?”

I was trying to figure out if he was making fun of me with that vintage comment, but I pushed it all away and nodded. “I’m in.”

“Great! So, my business card had my home number on it. I’ll give you my cell number.”

Before I knew what was going on, we had exchanged numbers. I felt like I was caught up in a whirlwind, being swept out of control, and I didn’t know whether to be excited, terrified, or both.

“Awesome,” Leo said. “I’ll text you soon to talk about a time, okay?”

“I look forward to it,” I said.

Leo smiled at me. He handed my picnic back, and our fingers brushed as I took it. A sudden swirl of heat filled me from the inside out, swamping me, consuming me, and then leaving me breathless when it dissipated.

Leo pulled his hand away, and the separation was almost painful. “I hope you finish your mission,” he said, his voice a little on the husky side. “You’ll have to tell me all about it when we see each other again.”

He turned away and I watched him go, my hand still tingling from that touch. “Yeah,” I murmured to no one. “I will.”

When he was gone, I took my picnic supplies and headed out into the parking lot. The sunlight was pale where it showed through the clouds, the breeze moderate, the atmosphere pleasant and cozy. Yet, at the same time, all of that felt very far away.

There was no room left inside me to notice things when I was consumed with Leo, the color of his eyes, the sensation that came with his touch, the light scent of hazelnut coffee that seemed to follow him around.

Getting in my car again, I set my dinner down on the passenger seat and put my head in my hands.

What the hell am I doing?

I tried so hard to always maintain a professional appearance. It was a defense mechanism that had gotten me into the situation I was in, this rut. This life that was lacking a partner, a family, or intimacy of any kind.

However, professionalism had treated me well. I couldn’t exactly complain about having a lifelong career and financial stability. Now all that stability had been knocked askew by a younger man, a stranger, whom I knew nothing about.

And he’d done it so easily. Just a few simple words. A smile. A touch. What was happening to me?

Could I really go on a date with him? I didn’t want to fool around. I wanted something real, and true ... and everlasting. Was that attainable with a much younger man?

For the first time in my life, I was full of doubt. And I didn’t know how to fix it.