Mr. Dresel walked with a clipped pace toward them and came to a stop at Taylor's register. "Mr. Crumb. Have we not discussed your...attire?"

The man's question made Taylor glance down at his clothes. "I'm not wearing the chains."

Mr. Dresel made a weird nose in the back of his throat. Taylor looked up. The man's features were pinched. "But your hair is blue and you're wearing that god-awful color on your nails and lips. Go wash your face."

Cameron was standing behind Mr. Dresel, mocking the man as he spoke, and Taylor had a hard time keeping a straight face. He had to curl his nails into the palm of his hands and dig them deep in order not to laugh. He was going to kill Cameron. "What's wrong with me wearing makeup?"

The store manager turned to look at Cameron, but Cameron had picked up a small stack of coupons by his register and had begun to leaf through them. When Mr. Dresel turned back around, Cameron flipped the man off.

"Store policy dictates that you are to be in uniform and appear professional at all times." He waved his thick hand toward the office and employee lounge that were located at the back of the store. "Now go clean up."

A few customers had stopped to watch Mr. Dresel's melodrama as Taylor locked his register and headed toward the back of the store.

Taylor hated authoritarians. He wasn't a rebel and he respected the chain of command, but not when it was abused. Not when assholes like Mr. Dresel used that power to humiliate others.

And Taylor was embarrassed that Mr. Dresel had confronted him in front of customers.

He hated the fact that he allowed people like his store manager to embarrass him, but Taylor had always been what his mother referred to as sensitive. And he hated that fact even more. There were times when he wished he was tough as nails and didn't let everything get to him.

"Excuse me."

When Taylor turned to see who was talking to him, he stilled. His lips parted and Taylor found himself staring into the most handsome eyes he'd ever seen. They were green with streaks of deep, warm brown. Hazel. So pretty. So mesmerizing. He couldn't concentrate on anything but the man's eyes. It was as if he was falling into them, being sucked under by their spellbinding allure.

"Can you tell me where I can find the seafood? I'm kinda new around here and still learning the layout of the store."

It was the guy who Taylor had seen coming through the door not ten minutes ago. The good-looking one with the dark-blond hair and amazing body. "Sure." Taylor pointed to his left. "I get off at five."

He froze.

Had he really said that?

The man smiled and a spectacular set of pearly-white teeth were revealed to Taylor. They were straight and perfect, and complemented by two deep dimples. "Is that right?"

Taylor's entire body heated to volcanic level before he slapped a hand over his face. Could his day get any worse? "I meant it's on aisle five."

The guy leaned his arms on the handle of his cart. "I think I like the first answer better. I'm Sam."

"I'm an idiot," Taylor replied. "But most people call me Taylor."

Sam nodded toward Taylor's chest. His pretty eyes were shining with mirth. "That's what your name tag says."

This was not going well. Was Sam really flirting with him? Hot guys like this one never flirted with Taylor. They sneered at him. They poked fun at him. They had even picked on him in high school because he was goth and gay. A deadly combination according to the jocks at Crescent High.

But they never flirted.

Taylor didn't have height going for him. At five four, he had heard every short joke imaginable. Most of the cheerleaders had been taller than him. Two years out of high school and Taylor still carried a height complex. Sam had to be well over six feet tall. Taylor cursed his small-statured lineage.

He touched his name tag and nodded. "I guess it does. But you had no way of knowing that was my real name." Taylor wasn't sure why he was flirting back. It wasn't like his past had proven he could win a guy like Sam or that he made the best choices in men.

"And what would your real name be?" One of Sam's dark-blond brows arched. It was the sexiest thing ever. "Billy the Kid? The Duke? Or maybe Neo."

Taylor ground his teeth. "You don't have to make fun of me."

"Actually," Sam said. "I was naming some of my favorite characters."

"Who's Neo?" Taylor asked.

Sam's eyes widened as he pressed a hand to his chest. "Have you never watched The Matrix?"

Taylor couldn't help the smile that appeared. "No."

"Have you lived under a rock?" Sam asked. "It was one of the most badass movies of the late nineties. But if you add in parts two and three, then that would be the early two thousands as well."

Taylor was being...charmed.

"I still haven't seen any of them."

Sam shook his head, his hand still resting on his chest. "No man can go through life being so deprived. It's...it's...sacrilege."

That made Taylor chuckle. "What can I say? Call me Mr. Deprived."

Sam moved closer and Taylor's heart beat into his throat. The man leaned in as if he were a double agent giving away a secret. His warm, mint-scented breath skimmed over Taylor's cheek. "Don't worry. We can remedy that problem and no one will be the wiser. Meet me at my place around eight and whatever you do, don't swallow the red pill. At least not until I can take one with you. And then I'll show you just how deep the rabbit hole goes."

Taylor was totally lost and undeniably infatuated with Sam. He had an urge to lean into Sam, to soak up the man's heat. Was it wrong that Taylor wanted the guy to turn his head and kiss him? "I promise not to."

Sam plucked the pen from Taylor's shirt pocket, grabbed Taylor's hand, and wrote something on his palm. He held up the pen. "And I'll return this when you show up. If you don't come, I'll have to ransom it back to you."

As Sam walked away, Taylor stared into the palm of his hand to see an address.

What in the hell had just happened?

With nothing more than a towel wrapped around his waist, Taylor sat on his bed and stared at his bare feet. Everything had happened so fast in the store and Taylor had been so damn charmed by Sam that he hadn't had time to absorb what was happening. His skin began to tingle as Taylor tried to breathe, but the thought of starting over, of getting to know someone else made him dizzy.

Just breathe.

Was he really going over there? He didn't even know Sam. What if the guy turned out to be like Todd? What if Taylor was making the second biggest mistake of his life?

"Stop stalling," Cameron called through the bedroom door. "Man up and go get you some."

Taylor swallowed as he balled his shaky hands into fists and rested them on his lap. Cameron was right. Why should he worry? He was only going over to a stranger's house to swallow some pills. He was adventurous. Although he would have to turn down the drugs. Taylor didn't roll like that.

"Do you know anything about The Matrix?" he called to Cameron through his bedroom door.

"Greatest movie ever," Cameron called out and then walked into Taylor's room.

Taylor threw his towel at Cameron's head. His roommate needed to learn what the word boundary meant. "You have your own room for a reason."

"Like I haven't seen swinging beans and wieners before." Cameron dropped onto Taylor's bed. Taylor could smell the cigarette smoke coming off of his friend and wished the guy would give up the nasty habit. "What about The Matrix?"

Taylor had already told Cameron about his plans with Sam. And just to be on the safe side, he'd given Sam's address to Cameron. One could never be too careful. "He said something about red pills. But Sam didn't look like a pillhead."

Cameron fell back on Taylor's bed, laughing so hard that tears were streaking down his face. Taylor was clueless. Why did Cameron find that funny?

"You are too adorable." Cameron wiped at his eyes. "The pills were a reference to the movie. I'm not going to explain anything else because I don't want to spoil it for you. But Sam wasn't inviting you to do drugs with him."

That was a relief. Taylor stuffed his head into his shirt. Although Cameron had seen the scars that littered his back, had been there when Taylor had nearly died, he still didn't like anyone looking at them. "I shouldn't go."

Cameron sat up and his dark-brown eyes softened. "Don't let Todd ruin your life, Taylor. You have to be willing to move on, grab whatever opportunity comes your way. If you don't, then he is still winning."

Taylor's stomach tightened into a knot at the idea of getting back into the dating game. It had only been seven months since he'd fully recovered, fled town, and settled down in Bear County. He wasn't sure he was ready.

He pulled his boxers on and then sat down next to Cameron. "But what if-"

Cameron held up his hand. "If you start to feel uncomfortable, then leave. It's just that simple. But don't throw in the towel, Taylor. You're a great-looking guy and any man would be lucky to have you."

Taylor wished he was confident and brave like Cameron. But being screwed over in the worst sort of way tended to make a person hesitant to hand his trust to anyone. Taylor wasn't as nave as he used to be. That was a damn good thing. But he still didn't trust his judgment when it came to men.

He brushed his fingers over the long scar on the back of his left hand. He could still clearly picture the events that had led to the long, thin mark. Cameron was right. If Taylor didn't start dating again, he never would. Fortifying his resolve, Taylor nodded. "I'll go."

"That's the spirit." Cameron hopped up from the bed and held out a condom and a travel pack of lube.

Taylor scowled. "I might be tiptoeing back into the dating pool, but I do not sleep with men on the first date."

Cameron dropped the items on Taylor's dresser. "You never know. It doesn't hurt to be prepared."

Taylor threw a pillow at Cameron. "You're such a perv."

Cameron chuckled as he ducked the fluffy missile. "And proud of it. Now get dressed and enjoy your date. If you plan to stay past ten, call me so I don't worry."

When Cameron left his bedroom, Taylor glanced through the closet to find something to wear. Should he go goth or be conservative? Taylor wanted to be himself, but he wasn't sure if that was the right thing to do.

What if Sam saw him as he truly was and thought Taylor was easy? He had been wearing his makeup when Sam approached him in the store. So the man must not mind a guy who wore eyeliner and lipstick-although Taylor had washed the blue out of his hair earlier.

Taylor decided to tone it down and wear only the eyeliner. He chose a basic T-shirt and some jeans. He left the chains on his dresser. He felt naked without them, but he was slowly getting used to that since starting work at Piggly Wiggly. He still didn't like it though.

Standing at his dresser, Taylor gazed in the mirror and wondered if he should comb his hair down or spike it. Ugh. This was giving him a headache. Why did going out with a guy have to be so complicated? Taylor wanted Sam to like him, but not too much. Not on the first date at least. He wanted his appearance to say I'm interested, but not scream that he was easy.

Taylor debated for another five minutes before he tackled the mess on his head. He didn't go total spike. He left the sides down to jut out slightly and only pulled the front bangs up. That was a good enough compromise.

Lastly, he splashed some cologne on and then declared himself ready. Although he wasn't. To be honest, he wanted to strip down to his boxers and watch a movie, alone, in his own bed.

You have to be willing to move on, grab whatever opportunity comes your way. If you don't, then he is still winning.

Taylor was determined to move on and put the past behind him. He forwent the chains that usually dangled at his sides, but he used just one to clip his wallet to his belt before shoving his wallet into his back pocket.

He chewed on his lower lip as he gazed at his reflection. Not too long ago, his face had been brighter, his eyes electric. His skin was paler now, his eyes dull. Did eyes dull? He touched the tiny scar that crept out from the corner of his right eye. It was barely noticeable now. Even he had to strain to see it.

But it was still there. It would always be there.

Cameron came back and leaned against the doorframe. "Let it go."

Taylor dropped his hand and nodded. "I can do this." He was talking more to his reflection than to Cameron, trying his hardest to build up his confidence.

"You can," Cameron agreed. "And if this doesn't work out, you can always jaywalk."

Taylor grinned and some of the tension drained. "I can, can't I?"

Why couldn't he and Cameron have been attracted to each other? That would've made Taylor's life so much simpler. But they weren't. Taylor viewed Cameron as a brother, and vice versa. They'd been through a lot of shit together, had had each other's backs. But there was no spark there, no attraction.

"Go." Cameron moved behind Taylor and began to push him toward the door. "And don't chicken out halfway there. I want details of your date, not how you sat on the side of the road in a panic."

"Dang, you busted me," Taylor teased.

"I'm serious," Cameron said. "Don't chicken out. Have a good time."

Taylor grabbed the keys to his car and headed down to the parking lot behind their building. Now that he didn't have Cameron beside him, acting as his cheerleader, the reality of what he was doing came crashing down around him. He started to turn around and head back inside, but stopped.

"I can do this." Lord knew he'd memorized Sam's address. It was now etched in his memory. He got in his car and headed down Route 14, his palms growing sweaty the closer he drove to Sam's. By the time he pulled into the long, gravel driveway, he was a nervous wreck.

Taylor sat behind the wheel for a good ten minutes, staring up at the tan-and-brown home. The house sat in the middle of an intense green lawn edged by a graceful sweep of trees. It reminded Taylor of a house that belonged in the South. It was a beautiful place and he began to wonder what had possessed Sam to ask him out.

You'll never know if you don't go inside.

Here's to hoping. Taylor got out and climbed the porch steps, raising his shaky hand to ring the bell.

Chapter Two.

"I swear to god, if you go near it I'll break your fingers." Sam bumped Colton out of the way as he stirred the shrimp bisque with a whisk. "This isn't for you."

"Come on, Sam." Colton-a man who had the dark looks of a Russian and the face of a model-tried to dodge around him with a metal spoon in hand, but Sam kept the man at bay. "It smells so good. Just a small taste?"

Sam turned the knob to simmer and then dropped tiny potato balls into heated butter in another pan, lightly browning them. "Go to the restaurant in town if you're that hungry." He cut his eyes at Stripper when the man walked into the kitchen with nothing but a pair of boots on.

"And you," he said to Stripper. "If you don't get something on, I'll slice your grapefruit-size nuts off."

"Legend and Gabe aren't here," he said as he sniffed the air. "So why do I have to get dressed?"

Sam scooped the gnocchi from the pan and tossed them in a bowl filled with parmesan cheese. "I want all of you to disappear for the night. If any of you fuck this up for me, you'll be eating canned tuna for a week."