Please call me. It’s not what you think.
Shit, that sounded cliché, but he’d already sent it. He took another bite of his donut, but got up and tossed the rest in the trash. He wasn’t in the mood for sawdust.
* * * *
A little while later, Marc took off and Graham spent the rest of the day checking his phone for any message from Sam. He’d never begged a man to call him, but he was ready to get on his knees and do a little begging. Marc had been right—Graham was just scared. All these years he’d convinced himself that not getting involved with a man was somehow being noble. What a crock of shit. Marc had pegged it. He was scared of being left alone.
And Sam had been right, too. The future didn’t have a guarantee. If he wanted a chance at real happiness, it was time he got his head straight. He needed to figure out what he really wanted. No matter how many ways he looked at the situation, he always came back to the same realization—he wanted Sam.