Preston took the salad bowl out of the cabinet and set it on the counter next to the romaine. He glanced at the clock on the microwave for the fifth time. It was already fifteen minutes past seven and no sign of Scott.
He prided himself on being punctual. Unfortunately, Scott did not appear to have the same habits. Inhaling deeply, Preston tried to squash his annoyance. He was simply anxious because he just didn’t know what the hell he was doing.
Last evening and night he’d had s*x with Scott. A lot of s*x. And it had been amazing. He could no longer pretend he didn’t want Scott. He definitely did.
But what the hell did it all mean? Did it mean he was gay? Hell, Preston didn’t know. He supposed wanting another guy was the definition of being gay. Except he’d been married and had never h
