Neutral Zone Trap - Bianca Sommerland Page 0,2

“The show’s about to start. Can I get you anything before it does? I don’t usually pass by here again until it’s over so I don’t block anyone’s view.”

“A beer would be great.”

“Any preference?”

“Not really, they all taste the same.” He wrinkled his nose. “Just the easiest thing.” He recalled Gordon’s suggestion. “Oh, and Gordon told me he says ‘Hi’.”

Terry laughed. “That’s my man. You’re adorable and he’s a worrier. How about I get you something tastier than beer? Do you like sweet? Sour? Salty?”

Brow furrowed, Braxton shrugged. “I’m not fussy. Sour stuff I love though.”

“Perfect! I’ll be right back.”

As Terry disappeared into the crowd, Braxton turned back to the stage, folding his arms across his chest and trying not to notice the odd glances from the men, and the few women and other people around him. He felt like he was the one on the stage, with the spotlight on him, his inexperience stamped in the middle of his for all to see. Which was silly, people had to be doing their own thing?

But those people had been here before.

And he couldn’t be more out of place if he tried.

“It would help if you took off your jacket.” A man settled in the stool beside him, setting his glass on the thin ledge before the stage. “You’re drawing attention because you look ready to run.”

The man’s voice sent a delicious shiver down Braxton’s spine, deep and low, with the soothing quality of the ocean at night lapping the shore, the rumble of thunder in the distance as a storm approached. He had to count to five in his head to regain his composure before he looked at the man.

Then he forgot to breathe at all. The man’s voice was soothing, but the man himself was everything but. Dark brown hair just long enough to look soft, but short enough not to distract from his chiseled features. Dark eyes with a golden touch and a hint of green. Smooth, tanned skin, a hint of stubble on his sharp jaw, and thick muscles under a dark green Henley shirt that was meant to show off every sculpted one. The man was a little too rough around the edges to be traditionally handsome, but he was alluring, with a strong presence, the look of a soldier, or what Braxton imagined one would look like—and did in every one of his fantasies.

A hint of amusement in the man’s eyes brought Braxton back to his words. His jacket. Yeah…he should probably take it off. But he couldn’t.

He cleared his throat. “I had an idea of how people would dress here, and got something I liked, but I feel weird now. My jacket is…neutral.”

“Now I’m curious.” The man’s laugh was absolutely devastating. Like a soft caress slipping down Braxton’s spine. “But whatever you’re most comfortable with. I just thought I’d let you know the jacket is a dead giveaway that you’re fresh meat.”

Braxton wrinkled his nose. “Is that why you’re talking to me?”

“That, and I’ve been where you are. Not as young either.” The man folded his arms on the ledge, close to his drink. “My work took all my focus, and I liked it that way. I didn’t want to consider anything that would distract me. I achieved everything I wanted in my career and then decided Grindr hookups weren’t enough for me. I wanted to socialize a bit.” He made a vague gesture at the club around them. “So I started coming here.”

“I considered Grindr, but the idea of meeting some random stranger?” Braxton shuddered. “Can’t do it.”

The man nodded slowly. “So you’re looking for a relationship?”

Am I? He didn’t even know. For now, just talking to someone was good. Someone like him who wouldn’t tell him how bad hooking up with a man would be for his career. Who didn’t care about his career. Who saw…the real him.

“I’m looking for…this.” He shrugged as the music started building up again, and smoke filled the stage. “Being somewhere I don’t have to hide who I really am. I can’t do that with my job. With my friends. It’s…stressful.”

“I get that. Believe me.” The man sat back as Terry returned with Braxton’s drink. His expression hardened as Terry leaned close, whispering something in his ear. He glanced over at Braxton. “Am I bothering you?”

Terry looked at him too and Braxton shrank in his stool, staring at the yellow tinged drink that had been set in front of him. The man was nice, and Braxton was