Throughout his career, actor John Paravati has stuck with what he told the gossip rags -- he's been in like, in lust, even in respect once or twice, but never love. All he's ever cared about is performing. If he's stuck now doing commercials for cruise lines, at least it's better than shilling adult diapers.<br><br>But Hollywood pretends, and John is a master. Because once upon a time, he loved two things more than anything -- his best friend Frank and the movie palace he used as sanctuary.<br><br>Over fifty years ago, John ran away from his hometown. Now, someone has restored the theater he left behind, and they want John at its relaunch. The memories still sting, but he agrees to attend, even though it means dealing with heartache. At seventy-seven, he's too old to hold onto the hurt. The question is, however, is he too old to start over once it's gone?

The Hearts of Yesteryear

As a small moan escaped Frank’s throat, the muscles beneath John’s fingers twitched, relaxing as he leaned more closely into the caress. The boy in John shouted in exaltation, but the man holding the love of his life steady kept his poise. He almost smiled when Frank’s tongue tentatively touched the tip of his.


Frank was panting when John pulled back. “Calm down,” John teased. “You’ll have a heart attack before we get to any of the good stuff.”


Frank swiped his tongue over his bottom lip. “Jesus, kissing Debbie never felt like that.”


John snickered. “I think my ego would be bruised if it did.” When Frank’s lashes ducked to focus on his mouth, his skin scorched. “Do you want to try it again?”


Chapter 26