1 Chapter 1

“Damn it!”

If I didn't get this piece of paper out soon, there'd be a Channel Two news story about how a copier killed a pedestrian after it was thrown from the building. Maybe I should just break the thing with my fists.

PharmaLite put in an emergency service request that morning since the company had a proposal to send out by the end of the day. It really shouldn’t be this hard to remove something so thin stuck between two itty bitty rollers. I gave it one final, mighty tug and suddenly it came loose, the momentum of which threw me backward so I landed heavily on the floor, legs up in the air. Thankfully, no one was there to witness this.

I heaved myself up, ego barely intact, and tossed the paper into the recycle bin. A final check revealed there were no more rogue sheets in the machine, so I quickly cleaned up the area. Bag of tools in hand, I walked back to the reception desk to speak to Sheldon Wickens, the office manager. His smile always brightened my day. That ass wasn't bad, either.

“You’re good to go, problem solved,” I informed him.

Sheldon got up from behind the desk and stood beside me. Smooth, dark chocolate skin, sexy, light brown eyes, and full, luscious lips. Gorgeous, and he knew it, too.

“Thanks, sweetie. I think that machine hates me.” His voice was a light tenor. Sheldon signed off on the form I handed to him and gave it back to me. He had long fingers, perfect for stroking my...

Focus on work, buddy, not sex.I cleared my throat.

“No, hon, these machines hate everyone. You’re not special,” I said with a smile.

Sheldon laughed. I loved that sound, so carefree. “You’re probably right. But you, hot stuff, arespecial. When are you going to let me take you to dinner?" Sheldon asked me out all the time.

"Please. You're just being nice to me. Nobody wants to take a chubby dude out on a date, unless he's desperate."

"I would. You look just fine to me. Keep that in mind, you hear? Thanks again for fixing the copier, sweet thing.”

I chuckled and shook his outstretched hand and he scratched my palm with his index finger. As he let go, Sheldon licked his lips and winked at me. He blew me a kiss and walked away from the reception area, toward the back of the office. His tight slacks and the suggestive sway of his hips left nothing to my imagination, as usual.

I shook my head as I gathered my things and left the office. Sheldon was relentless, and I really should take him up on his offer. But even though it had been a while, I was tired of one-night stands, and I wanted more. Just seemed like too much effort lately. Maybe I was getting old. Besides, my heart belonged to another, even though I knew it was hopeless and I should move on.

* * * *

“You haven't gone out on a date in months. What gives, man?”

It was a Sunday afternoon and I kicked back in my one-bedroom apartment, zoned out on chocolate as I basked in the view of my unrequited love. He was currently bent over in front of me as I sat at my kitchen table and watched him work.

Henry Bunting was the building superintendent. I called him up to fix the kitchen sink since the damn thing wouldn’t stop leaking. Maybe a fitting was loose or something.

"So it’s been a while. What of it?" I retorted.

"A while? Try, like a year. It’s been forever since you’ve gone out, let alone had an actual date with a guy that didn't lead to sex within ten minutes of buying him a beer."

"Because you'resuch a shining example of dating how-to's. You've got so many men coming in and out of your place, the door doesn't even close." And it hurt my heart to see it. I needed to get over it, but I didn't know how. Or maybe I didn't really want to.

Henry snickered. "I know, right? But you know I'll never settle down." Ouch. "Anyway, this isn't about me." He sobered up a bit and asked, "Why don't you give guys the chance to get to know you better? You assume all they want from you is sex, so you won't even consider anything else. Just cut to the chase, fuck 'em, then leave. I know you, man. You want that long-term commitment, but you won't get it, not the way you're going at it."

“Right, because there’s a guy out there who'd be caught dead in a relationship with a short, chunky dude closer to forty than thirty, who works a blue collar job, and makes an average living. I'm lucky I even get laid most days. A guy's desperate enough, though, he'll sleep with anybody.”

But Henry would never understand that because he'd always had it easy.