Enough about Jase for now. I had to get to The Hindermost, hungry.
Men sometimes dropped what they were doing for me, paying attention to me. Perhaps their strange and unlimited fetishes for a clean-cut and somewhat muscular blond man from New York City became their interests. Harry Hindermost was of that group: young at heart, thirty-six years old, dashing with ginger-colored hair, and dull green eyes. He stood at six-four, almost too tall for the ceilings in his darkly illuminated pub, and he always shared an endearing grin upon my occasional visits. I knew for a fact that his winks at me across the maple bar detailed more than just friendship. Lust shined in his one eye when winking, he sniffed out a masculine interest for me, and made it quite clear that…“Sawyer, I’d be lying to you i
