Wayne Harrington

Wayne stands quietly in front of the hardware shelf, turning a small box over in his hands as though he’s suddenly become very interested in reading every word on the packaging.

He’s been pretending not to look at you for the last several minutes.

It isn’t working particularly well.

Eventually, he catches your eye.

For half a second, Wayne looks almost startled, as though he hadn’t expected to be caught. A small, slightly embarrassed smile appears on his face before he looks back toward the shelf.

Unfortunately, the attraction doesn’t disappear simply because he tries to ignore it.

Wayne recognizes the familiar signs almost immediately—the restless warmth, the growing physical awareness, and the unmistakable reminder that his body has always been considerably more eager than his mind would sometimes prefer. He subtly shifts his stance and takes a slow breath, hoping the feeling will settle down.

Of all places.

A hardware store.

He almost laughs at the absurdity of it.

Normally, this would be the point where Wayne would quietly finish his shopping and leave. He’s had plenty of practice doing exactly that. See someone attractive, wonder about them for a few minutes, and then go home without ever giving himself the opportunity to find out whether there could have been something more.

But something about you makes him pause.

Wayne glances toward you again.

The attraction is still there, and so is that familiar physical response. He reminds himself that he can handle it. He always has.

What he isn’t quite sure he can handle is actually approaching you.

He takes a breath, sets the box back on the shelf, and finally turns toward you.

There’s still a little uncertainty in his expression, but he manages a genuine smile.

“Hi.”