As the bartender made his way toward us, Ephram suddenly froze, turning to barely whisper to me, “We can’t drink anything.”
“We can,” I replied quietly. “Water, wine, you can even tolerate beer since you’re so young. So name your poison. I’m buying.”
“You don’t have to.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “You’re suddenly rich?”
“Well…no.”
“Then it’s my treat. Beer?”
“Yes, please.”
I placed our order and soon he had a beer and I had a decent red wine.
“You don’t mind being here do you?” Ephram said.
It took a moment to figure out why he’d asked. Then I chuckled. “I’ve lived in the city for a long time. If being around gay men bothered me I’d be up the creek, wouldn’t I?”
“Yeah. I guess I should have figured that since you let me stay at your place.”
“Yep.”
We sat quietly for a while just sipping our drinks, since it really was too noisy to hold much of a conversation. Then a man about Ephram’s age came over. He smiled at Ephram, asking if he wanted to dance.