Where I Belong

Chapter 1-1

Chapter 1

Ten Years Later

“Done, done, and done.” Harper Ellison clicked the mouse button on his laptop with a little more force than necessary. It was hard to believe he earned his living telling the overgrown stories spinning around in his head. Three books on the national bestsellers lists, albeit near the bottom, in the last few years ensured that he could live comfortably and write full time without a day job to pick up the slack. He loved writing, but even so, sometimes Harper missed talking with real people and not just the imaginary ones he created on a daily basis. After seeing more emails from his publisher mocking him from his inbox, Harper closed his laptop and walked away from his desk.

Convinced this new novel would make him a household name, his publisher was more than a little upset by Harper’s absolute refusal to participate in any of the planned promotional efforts. Harper had a history he wanted to put behind him, and even though he wrote under a pseudonym, it would be easy for someone to follow the breadcrumbs to his doorstep. Fame wasn’t important to him anyhow. He just wanted the opportunity to write and keep his personal life and demons to himself.

Halfway down the open staircase from his office, Harper pulled his cell phone out of the pocket of his jeans to text his friends, inviting them out to celebrate finishing the final edits for the book. Pete Rafferty, and his husband, Gavin, were the best friends anyone could ask for and he owed them both so much. He honestly didn’t know where he would be if they hadn’t intervened in the self-destructive spiral that would have killed him eventually.

Almost immediately, Pete called him back. “Come to the bar tonight. The new bartender called in sick and I have to cover, but we can celebrate anyway.” Pete snickered. “Owning the place has some benefits. Besides, it’s Friday night a week before graduation, I can guarantee you’ll find a hook-up to lift your spirits.”

“Okay, but I’m not on the pull tonight.” Harper sighed. s*x was more trouble than it was worth these days. Outside of his hand and admittedly vivid imagination, Harper had been celibate for months. For someone as s****l as Harper, this was an anomaly.

“The boys swarm anyway and it’ll turn into a f*****g feeding frenzy if you dance, but it’s good for business so feel free to indulge. These are the times I’m glad I have Gavin to myself although he’d probably leave me, if you’d take him.”

Harper laughed. “You know I adore Gavin, but he’s definitely all yours. Is he gonna be around tonight? I need a dance partner who isn’t trying to get in my pants.”

“Gavin finished teaching for the semester already, so he’ll be around most of the night. God, he loves dancing with you, mostly because I take him home and f**k his brains out to remind him he’s mine, but it works out for everyone. See you later, dude.” Pete chuckled. Harper hung up the phone and shoved it back into his pocket.

Harper lived in a glorified three-room cabin with an open loft upstairs. The living room, dining area, and open kitchen were anchored by a huge fieldstone fireplace. Two bedrooms stood down a short hallway in back. Rustic and private for a suburban neighborhood, the cabin also boasted an amazing view of the Rockies. He spent hours just watching the light gambol across the mountains. The place was supposed to be a real home where he could build a life for himself, but it ended up being little more than a place to crash and store his stuff. Harper didn’t think it mattered anyway; he’d lost his chance at real happiness a long time ago.

After a shower and a shave, he threw on soft, worn jeans, loose enough to be comfortable but low and snug on his narrow hips, a wide brown leather belt, a fitted navy deep V-neck T-shirt, and his old brown chukka boots. “This’ll do,” he said to himself as he scanned himself in the mirror on his closet door. He grabbed his leather jacket and headed out into the cool May night.

* * * *

The rowdy Friday night crowd celebrated the end of the semester while Harper sat on his bar stool drinking his beer and talking with his friends. Pete’s Bar and Grill wasn’t a gay bar, but it was unabashedly gay-friendly. Harper loved the easygoing, homey atmosphere at Pete’s as did most of the folks in the college neighborhood. Behind the bar laughing, impressive as ever, Pete looked like a Viking linebacker at six-foot four, blond, muscular, and built. His bright green eyes sparkled, full of humor and mischief.

Pete’s husband, Gavin Williams, sat next to Harper at the far end of the bar closest to the kitchen. Gavin was the inverse of Pete in almost every way, at maybe five-foot nine and slender with nut brown hair, a tidy goatee, and wire-framed glasses. He taught biochemistry at the university and was also an accomplished cross-country skier with more endurance than Pete and Harper combined. The geek-chic guy also danced as well as any of the go-go boys in the trendy gay bars in Denver. He was a sight to see and a perfect counterpoint to Harper who, in a past life, actually was a go-go boy in West Hollywood for a while.

Approaching thirty, Harper routinely passed for someone younger. Six feet tall with a lithe swimmer’s body, Harper once appreciated the fact that his looks attracted attention. Both men and women admired the full eyelashes framing his pale, blue-gray eyes and the dark brown, almost-curly hair constantly falling in his eyes. These days the pointless flirting and interruptions annoyed him when all he wanted to do was talk with his friends and enjoy the music.

“Come on, Gavin. I love this song. Let’s dance,” Harper said with a wink. The pair shimmied onto the small dance floor and the temperature in the bar went up by ten degrees. Neither man needed a partner to dance, but it did keep the grab-ass to a minimum. Their easy chemistry was flirtatious and sexy without crossing the imaginary line into something inappropriate. Harper sometimes wondered what might have happened between them if he’d met the smaller man first instead of Pete, not that it mattered, Pete and Gavin were made for each other and Harper wouldn’t f**k with that. Lost in the music, they danced through four or five songs before returning to their regular spots at the end of the bar.

Pete leaned over to kiss Gavin and whisper in his ear. Harper couldn’t hear the exchange and probably didn’t want to because whatever Pete said had Gavin blushing tomato red. Harper winked at them and laughed. “Well then…I guess I’ve done my job.” Pete put a fresh beer in front of him and smiled innocently.

* * * *

While Harper danced with Gavin, a young couple slipped into Pete’s and sat at a table in a far corner of the crowded bar. The tall, willowy woman with silvery blue eyes watched them intently. Meg held her fiancé’s hand tightly, absorbing much-needed calm and courage. “I can’t believe we found him…Joe, what if he won’t talk to me?”

“Then he won’t talk to you, but the door will be open for the future. Your brother has a lot of reasons not to want anything to do with what’s happening back home. I’m hoping he’ll listen, but if he doesn’t, he doesn’t,” Joe answered gently as he rubbed loopy circles on her hand with his big thumb.

“He’s changed so much. God, he looks more like an underwear model in a magazine than the gangly kid I remember. If I hadn’t seen him smile, I’m not sure I’d have recognized him.” To her eyes, Harper gained more than six inches in height and a whole lot of muscle since he left home.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, baby. Go talk to him. I’ll give you two a little space and hold the table.” Joe kissed his fiancée’s temple.

After a few cleansing breaths, Meg raked her fingers through her dark wavy bob and stepped towards the big brother she’d missed for more than a decade. Easily moving through the throng, she stood at the bar behind her brother for a second to collect herself before shifting between Harper and his dance partner. “Excuse me, Harper Ellison…”