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I swallowed it, I'd have trouble getting my ass to a cab if I stayed much longer.
    Walter stilled the hand holding his drink and regarded me with a long stare. He leaned back in his chair. “I think he might be just what you need.”
    “I already had him. So"— I whipped a hand through the air—"that was it.”
    “Right. Your rule. Was it a one-night thing for him too?”
    “Yep.”
    Walter studied me for another moment before his gaze traveled over the crowd of men. He wasn't about to pick any of them up. His scan was more amusement than intention.
    The silence disturbed me. And that was odd. Walter and I didn't talk every moment we were together. In fact, most of the time we didn't talk much at all. It was another reason I liked him.
    I sighed. “What is it you think I need?”
    He didn't respond. I followed his stare to a couple near the far corner of the bar. They danced— or a better description might be embraced, or made love with their clothes on. Their lips didn't touch, but every other part of their bodies did. My eyes narrowed. Not many men at the club came together with such heat and familiarity. It seemed futile. Why would two men ever think they could succeed at long-term? The passion they exuded would never last. Not if they continued to patronize the Haven with its stream of available men.
    “To trust yourself enough to put yourself at risk,” Walter said.
    I surrendered my judgmental stare. “I take risks all the time.” I laughed at my own words.
    “I meant for you to risk more than your body.” He leaned forward and whispered. “Your parents aren't the only people in the world who can love you.”
    “Yeah. And they aren't the only ones who can fuck you over.” Walter might have been the one person I could let go in front of and still be able to look at myself in the mirror the next morning, but I wasn't about to test the theory.
    He continued to probe me with his stare. I found myself pondering what the man must have been thinking. Why did I let my parents have control over my life? Why did I let what they thought about me garner much import when it came to how I lived? And why the hell did spending more than one night with a guy scare the shit out of me?
    “All right. Enough,” I said. “Quit looking at me. I've got a lot of things I'm fucked up about. I know that. I don't need you to remind me. This is who I am. I'm enjoying my life.”
    “You could have more, you know. More than fucking at the club.”
    I scanned the slew of men surrounding our table. “I happen to like fucking at the club.” As the words left my mouth, Matthew walked by the bar. His damp hair stuck out every which way, the waves returning. He wore a broad smile, and the man had a definite spring in his step. I smirked.
    “I know you do,” Walter said. “But trust me, one day you'll be old like me and you won't be able to sit alone in the silence for more than five minutes at a time. Your life will suffocate you.”
    Concern for him welled in my chest. I had no idea what to do about it.
    Walter's shoulders slumped as he sank into the chair. “I wouldn't have traded my time with Gary for anything in the world. I have a past I can look back on. It's what I hold on to when I'm lonely. You have no past and no future. Your misery will encompass you until not even your random sexual encounters will be able to make it all go away.”
    I spotted Richard as he stepped down the stairs. He stopped and scanned the bar, and his gaze stilled once it landed on me. I expected him to walk past and leave the club.
    He didn't. He strode toward me.
    Walter stood. “I've got to go.”
    “Don't run off.”
    He waved a hand in the air. “Call me when you get a chance.”
    “I didn't mean to rush your friend off.” The voice was as husky and strong as it'd been when he'd first spoken to me.
    I stood. “It's fine.”
    Richard stepped closer, his gaze fixated on me. The stare was intense, like maybe he thought he'd imagined the