...I ventured closer, albeit slowly. Very slowly. Like a step every ten seconds kind of slowly. I hadn’t changed before leaving the hotel, and now the polo I’d put on after checking in made me feel like I should be headed for a golf course in Miami instead of toward all these beautiful young men. I would have turned around and said to hell with it if the laughter wasn’t so intoxicating. Damn it, more than anything, I wanted to be in the middle of the throng, sharing in their good spirits. Not one single person looked like they cared about anything more than how cold their drink was, or whether the body next to them was hot enough. That was what I needed. This ability to focus on the moment and not think about yesterday or tomorrow. At the very least, I could rub elbows with the masses and pray for some of it to come off.

When I was still twenty feet away, my pace came to a dead halt. A couple gyrated against each other on the sidewalk right in front of me, hands groping freely beneath their tight T-shirts and tighter jeans. They saw no one but each other, heads tilted together, mouths occasionally grazing across a smooth cheek. My heart slammed against my ribs in jealousy, and I edged into the shadow of an overhang, unable to look away but unwilling to disturb them by walking past. They probably wouldn’t have noticed me if I had, but I couldn’t bring myself to risk it. Someone deserved such exultant freedom. It was never going to be me, so why should I take it away from someone who’d actually found it?

My throat closed. This was a bad idea. I couldn’t even bring myself to skirt the couple and keep on going. It would take a lot more nerve to find someone to spend the night with. Bars weren’t my preferred method for hook-ups back home. It was ridiculous to think things would be different here, just because I was someplace new.

I backed up as stealthily as I could. My gaze darted around, drinking in the last vestiges of the jubilee I wouldn’t get to revel in, memorizing the hypnotic sway of bodies and the seductive tattoo of music to recreate later in the hotel shower, my hand around my cock, my eyes squeezed shut to make it as realistic as possible. It wouldn’t be the same, but it was all I would get. I’d take it.

My back collided against something hard, and more startlingly, something warm. I jerked forward and would have stumbled over my own feet if a strong hand hadn’t wrapped around my elbow and kept me upright. Looking over my shoulder was instinct. Staring at the man I’d bumped into was not.

He regarded me with a half-smile, wide-set brown eyes friendly and inquisitive. Soft hazel flecks in them caught the evening sun. His dark, shoulder-length hair was combed off his face, tucked behind his ears like it annoyed him rather than as a fashion statement, and the shadows of the beard making itself known for the night barely masked the adorable cleft in his square chin.

“Hello,” he said, his soft voice carrying through the dance music.

Somehow, I managed a croaked, “Hi.” Mr. Personality, that’s me.

“You are leaving?”

I blinked, my brain caught in the moment’s web. I wasn’t going anywhere. My feet weren’t moving. “Huh?”

His smile widened, and the fingers still curled around my arm began to massage the tense muscle. “Do not go yet.” His accented English was near perfect, its inflections more musical than anything I’d heard from the hotel staff. My heart skipped a few beats. The romantic in me I’d thought dead imagined it was searching to match the cadence of his voice. “You have only just arrived.”

That’s when I remembered my attempt to flee, and flushed in embarrassment. “I wasn’t…” The lie died in my throat. I couldn’t do it. His gaze was too steady, too knowing, to get away with it. “I shouldn’t have come.” The benefit of being true didn’t actually make the words taste any better.

He shook his head. “No, I do not believe that is true. You watch them too long.” When he tugged at my elbow, I actually followed a step. “We go inside, yes?”

I offered a modicum of resistance, though the notion of going anywhere he might lead was tempting. “I don’t even know who you are.”

“Davide. And you…?”

“Jonathan.”

“And now we both know.” His hand slid down my arm to capture my fingers in a dry, caressing grip. “Come. One drink. One dance. Then you may decide again whether or not you should have come.”