I didn’t return to our motel until five hours later. I’d walked the waterfront, then ended up at a gay bar where I fended off the advances of drunk, barely clad men, wishing I’d not been such a f**k-up with Hollis.
Who was I to think I was such a great catch anyway? Did I have the right to force choices on him or make decisions on his behalf just because I thought they made sense in my world? I was such a hypocrite. Here was a man who’d been through hell and had come to terms with himself and his existence, and he’d only been trying to protect my sensibilities. Maybe he was right. It was too soon, or I was getting carried away with the moment. But I couldn’t deny the draw I felt in his presence, and the attraction was real. I needed to apologize. Again. I’d been doing that a lot, lately.
