Square One (MM)


Heat Rating: Sizzling
Word Count: 21,883
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When Noah Dahl ends an eight-year Hollywood relationship with actor Reece Landreth, he heads north to the family home he inherited years before, intending to make a new start. What he doesn’t anticipate is finding his boyhood crush Glenn Wager has also returned.

Though Noah suffers from his breakup, he finds Glenn suffering far more from difficult circumstances surrounding the death of his mother. As Noah’s boyhood feelings return, he must acknowledge that twenty-four years have passed and work at approaching the troubled Glenn as a man, not a boy.

But Noah quickly finds obstacles in his way, namely Glenn himself. Can the two ever fully reunite and possibly build a life together?

Square One (MM)
0 Ratings (0.0)

Square One (MM)


Heat Rating: Sizzling
Word Count: 21,883
0 Ratings (0.0)
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Cover Art by Written Ink Designs

That evening I had to tell myself over and over that I’d been wrong to expect Glenn to be what he’d been long ago. He’s suffered a loss way beyond mine, been captive to a slow death. All I had was a breakup. I had to be content with his presence which I reminded myself was as an equal.

Time, of course, slowed to a crawl. Knowing we were going out, even for fast food, gave me something new for a change. Suddenly my situation had meaning, though I realized it unfair to pin that much on a clearly damaged man. But I couldn’t help it. The next day I spent too much time deciding what to wear.

I worked at looking casual. I changed clothes so often I lost count of how many times because I didn’t want him to know the little kid was still inside the grown up man.

I wondered what he’d wear. Would the smoky smell cling to him? Would he notice that he smelled bad and do something about it or had he been defeated by what he’d endured, his mother’s death taking part of him with her?

At ten of six my doorbell rang and there he was. I’d anticipated going up the hill to fetch him, maybe finding he’d forgotten the date, but no, here he was on my doorstep.

He’d cut his beard close, obviously showered, washed and combed his hair. He resembled Prince Harry. He wore a royal blue long sleeved shirt and khakis, still smelling of smoke “Hi,” I said too loudly.

“Hi,” he replied. “I’m early.”

“Fine with me. Do you want to walk or take my car?” Jack-in-the-Box was about a mile from my house. “We can drive, get the food, bring it back here and eat on the patio, or we can walk and eat there.”

“Drive,” he said.

The car seemed to surprise him. “It’s a Triumph,” I told him. “I love hot little cars.”

He smiled and got in. Soon we were tooling down the street and I was back to the twelve-year-old who was dancing inside at being on a date with Glenn Wager.

At Jack-in-the-Box we both got sourdough Jacks, fries, and a Coke which made us laugh. “Too funny we both like the same meal,” I said.

“It’s a good one.”

As we waited for our order he seemed entertained by other people. He watched a small boy escape his mother’s table and go begging at another and he craned his head to follow an elderly man out the door, take-out bag in one hand, cane in the other. Once we had the food we drove home and set up on my patio. He took a long look at the back yard, gazing up at the old oak tree, then set about eating. We got about halfway through the meal in silence before I jumped in. “Mrs. Springer told me you worked for Amazon in Seattle.”

“Nothing gets by her. I did. Eleven years, but I was leaving. Going over to a startup, then all this happened.”

“Do you think you’ll stay down here?” I asked because I needed to know his intentions, needed to know if I’d be losing him as fast as I gained him. I knew I was being the child, trying to capture the crush, but didn’t care. I needed to know.

“No idea,” he said. He then busied himself eating, looking at the food instead of me, so I let it go.

“Are your folks still around?” he asked when his burger was gone. He posed the question while swirling a fry in ketchup.

“No. They died some time ago. They were older, remember? They had me late in life. I’ve rented out the house ever since, but circumstance changed so I moved back.”

“How is that?” he asked, now looking up.

“Strange. I never intended to come back. You probably didn’t either, but they leave us these old houses that are now so valuable.”

“What kind of circumstance?” he asked.

Suffering a momentary pang of embarrassment, I left out Tracy Lynch. “A breakup,” I said. “I lived with Reece for eight years, then it ended and I didn’t want to be down there anymore. I’m done with L.A. and Hollywood.”

“Sounds like a lot to give up.”

I sighed. “It was.”

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