Free Bashert by Gale Stanley Page A

elves. When he saw himself in the dressing room mirror, a nagging started in the pit of his belly. Just because Jonah had stopped observing the Jewish holidays didn’t mean he could completely forget them. But he sure as hell intended to try. Burying his guilt, he bought the sweater before he could change his mind and today he’d worn it like a disguise at a masquerade party, thinking it would help him blend in. Wrong!
    When he’d first entered the bar he got a few snickers and more than a few strange looks. After glancing around at the jeans-and-sweatshirt crowd, he’d regretted his choice. He was trying too hard, and he looked like an asshole. He should have decorated his dorm room instead of his body, but at the time it seemed like a good idea. Now, he just felt spotlighted and completely out of his element. He’d almost turned around and gone home, but it was his first year away from home, so he forgave himself for not getting it right and decided to tough it out. He was already here. Fuck it.
    Jonah took a big gulp of liquid courage and tried to look like he belonged, which was next to impossible. Though the bar was overrun with men, nobody looked like him, and everybody seemed to be with friends. Jonah ignored the conversations around him and looked at his watch every so often, as if he were waiting for someone. It made him feel less alone. I’m pathetic. What would his mother say if she could see him now? Thank goodness, she was miles away and oblivious.
    His mom, and his dad too, meant well, and God knew he loved them both, despite the fact that they were so stereotypically Jewish and well versed in the overprotective caretaker role. They claimed they just wanted the best for him. Liars. They wanted him to marry a nice Jewish girl and give them a grandchild. Jonah just wanted to be left alone. He’d never bought into that whole Chosen People concept—the idea that he’d been set on Earth to procreate and fulfill some special purpose. On the contrary, Jonah saw his connection to Judaism more like a blood-borne pathogen. Fortunately, he wouldn’t be passing it on to future generations. Jonah took another swallow and looked into the mirror over the bar. Good grief, he looked really ridiculous. He stood out like a—
    In the mirror, the blond caught Jonah’s eye, and a slow grin raised one corner of his mouth. Jonah could barely breathe, he was so excited. Is he really smiling at me? Then the man winked. At him. Jonah watched a flush creep over his own face, and he averted his eyes.
    Stop acting like a dork. This is what you wanted. Man up. Jonah raised his eyes, but it was already too late. A jock had claimed the blond beauty’s attention, and Jonah couldn’t hope to compete. It was the story of his life.
    He sighed and settled back on his stool. God, he hated this time of the year. Back home the holidays had always made him feel more alone than usual. Why had he expected things to be different here? He might be in a bar with standing room only, but he was on his own. His back was turned to the crowd, but he could still see them in the mirror—guys of all shapes and sizes, pairing up like animals ready to board Noah’s Ark. It was damn depressing. He stared down at his beer.
    Suddenly two hands came around Jonah and gripped the bar, effectively trapping him. Jonah met a blue-eyed gaze in the mirror, and his heart skipped a beat. At this rate, the blond would need a defibrillator to get a rise out of him. Blue Eyes leaned over Jonah’s shoulder and spoke softly. “Is this seat taken?”
    The warm breath fanning his ear turned up Jonah’s core temperature, and he just about melted into the man behind him. Get a grip. Jonah glanced at the bar stool on his left. The previous occupant had vacated.
    “I don’t bite,” the blond said. “Unless you want me to.”
    Utterly tongue-tied, Jonah could only sit there with his mouth open while the grinning blond slid onto the stool next to him. The bartender came