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By: Barry Brennessel | Other books by Barry Brennessel
Published By: MLR Press, LLC
Published: Feb 14, 2012
ISBN # 9781608206094
Word Count: 18,000
Heat Index:     
EligiblePrice: $3.99
Available in: Adobe Acrobat, Mobipocket (.prc), Epub
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Reflections by Barry Brennessel - Romance>LGBTQ>Gay

Brian Caleb made a lot of mistakes chasing his first love. A fleeting, confusing love that disappeared forever. He wishes it were a lifetime ago, but the pain is fresh and raw. Now he's running away from love. And everything else in his life.

Then a chance encounter takes an unexpected turn: Brian finds himself falling for someone after something falls on someone!

They say true love comes when you're not looking for it. That's precisely what scares Brian. Can he find the courage to follow his heart again?

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Sensuality Rating:   Not rated
Chapter One

Brian Caleb stared out the train window at the French countryside sweeping past. He jumped when he heard a voice, and felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Excuse me, but are you in my French grammar class?"

He had a cute face. A sexy accent. But Brian couldn't place him. Grammar class consisted of sitting at individual booths, listening to tapes, staring at notes, so Brian wasn't in the habit of paying much attention to the other students. "Sorry, I'm not sure."

"Oh, well, maybe you've seen me with long hair and glasses. I had it cut yesterday, and am not wearing glasses, as you can see. So picture me in that manner."

Whether his hair was short or long, and whether or not he sported glasses, Brian would have remembered seeing this face in class. "I'm still not sure."

"Well, I noticed you," he whispered. "I'm Ondrej."

"Uh, hi. I'm Brian." He paused. "I didn't really catch how to pronounce--"

"Ondrej. You must make the 'r' roll, at the same time with a 'sh' sound, and it ends with a 'j', which in Czech is like a 'y' with a little... um, a little stick in your throat. I am not sure how to phrase it."

"Andre," Brian said.

"Yes, well, that is close enough. It has more charm, the way you say it." He scanned the length of the train car, which was nearly empty except for a family seated at the end. "Now I know this place is reserved, but as long as no one is here now, I will sit here. If it is fine with you. With your permission."

"Yeah," Brian said. "That's fine."

Was this cute Czech classmate of his just testing the waters, or had he somehow picked up on the fact Brian was gay? Brian didn't think himself obvious. But Ondrej was flirting--wasn't he?--and held eye contact, letting his arm rest against Brian's when he sat down.

He pictured the seating arrangement of the grammar class, still bothered he'd never noticed Ondrej. He then envisioned Mme. Biraud's scowl and wagging finger whenever anyone spoke anything but French. She'd even warned the students about using other languages in place of French outside of class.

"I guess technically we should be speaking in French," Brian said. "En francais, monsieur, en francais," he continued, imitating Mme. Biraud's unusually manly voice.

"No," Ondrej said, raising his hand. "Stop. I am bored with francais. It bores me." He closed his eyes and sighed.

"Ennui," Brian said, still imitating Mme. Biraud's voice.

Ondrej turned and looked again to Brian. "I wonder if you are glad you have traveled all the way to France. To study." He nudged Brian's arm. "I mean words, as well as men in Paris bars."

Brian's chest tightened. He felt an odd mix of embarrassment and elation. Did this just confirm that Ondrej was, in fact, gay, too? Or was this too optimistic? Maybe Ondrej had merely been in the vicinity of one of the clubs, and spotted Brian entering or exiting. But before Brian could speak, Ondrej nudged his arm again.

"I saw you last night, at Mix," Ondrej whispered. "I, too, get bored spending all my time in the sleepy town of Tours. Surely Tours bores you as well."

Brian looked out the window a moment, to gather his thoughts, hoping he wouldn't say something idiotic. He turned back to Ondrej. "My professor back home told me I had to study in Tours. She said that the Loire region speaks the purest French in the world."

Ondrej shook his head. "They fooled you also." He stared into Brian's eyes. "The men aren't quite so pure here either, but that is okay." He patted Brian's hand. "It makes the time here not so painful."

Ondrej's hand was warm compared to Brian's, which was like ice.

"So when you asked if I was in your grammar class," Brian said, "it was all pretense?"

Ondrej looked confused. "Pre...tense?"

"It means that you--well, that you already knew...ah, I'm not sure how to explain it. It doesn't matter. It was a dumb question."

"Well, you will explain it to me sometime. My English, it's good, but still I'm learning. So if you can teach me more English, I will teach you some Czech. But let's, for now, ignore the French."

Brian was unsure just how seriously to take Ondrej's attitude. "So...if you don't like studying French, why are you in the program?"

He shrugged. "I liked the language when I was a younger boy, but it is all so...mont...monto..."


"Exactly. But France was closer to home than Japan. I want to learn Japanese now, though."

"That's way different from a Romance language."

"It is more artistic."

The door at the far end of the car slid open, and a man started down the aisle. He paused next to Ondrej, checked his ticket, and walked on.

"If no one claims this seat, may I continue to sit here?"

"Sure," Brian said, his hands shaking gently, his heart racing just a little. "Or I can move to the seat next to yours if that stays empty. As long as the ticket agent doesn't yell at us."

"To hell with him. I paid many Euros for this sophisticated train. I won't be pushed around by him." He took Brian's hand. "I will just stay right here."

Brian felt nervous, excited, flustered, and aroused. He loved Ondrej's forwardness. He held Ondrej's hand tightly, though he was scared someone would see them. After a minute he slid his coat over just far enough to cover their hands. He didn't look up to see Ondrej's reaction. But Ondrej moved closer to him.
By: Barry Brennessel
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