Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

    Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    Accidental Chemistry
    Accidental Chemistry
    Accidental Chemistry
    Ebook107 pages1 hour

    Accidental Chemistry

    By Susan Laine

    3.5/5

    ()

    Read preview

    About this ebook

    A Second Chances Story

    Zane Roscoe’s evil day job at a musical instrument store is supposed to teach him responsibility. What he really wants is the fun, excitement, and artistic challenge of being a musician. Joshua Norton is in college, training to become a pharmaceutical chemist, and he is Zane’s complete opposite: introverted, intellectual, and quiet. When the two meet at a gay night club, their relationship begins with a case of mistaken identity and a wounded ego.

    They try talking but stumble over one miscommunication after another. So Zane decides they better stick to sex—except a series of bumbling disasters, accidents big and small, and minor mishaps leads to frustration. Afterward, Zane wants to apologize for his behavior. But Joshua ran, and finding him turns into a test of character, as does earning Joshua’s forgiveness. Can they find the new beginning they need for a second chance at love?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDreamspinner Press
    Release dateJul 24, 2013
    ISBN9781627980159
    Accidental Chemistry
    Author

    Susan Laine

    Susan Laine, an award-winning, multipublished author of LGBTQ erotic romance and a Finnish native, was raised by the best mother in the world, who told her daughter time and again that she could be whatever she wanted to be. The spark for serious writing and publishing kindled when Susan discovered the gay erotic romance genre. Her book, Monsters Under the Bed, won the 2014 Rainbow Award for Best Gay Paranormal Romance. Anthropology is Susan’s formal education, and she could have been happy as an eternal student. But she’s written stories since she was a kid, and her long-term goal is still to become a full-time writer. Susan enjoys hanging out with her sister, two nieces, and friends in movie theaters, libraries, bookstores, and parks. Her favorite pastimes include singing along (badly) to the latest pop songs, watching action flicks, doing the dishes, and sleeping till noon, while a few of her dislikes are sweating, hot and too-bright summer days, tobacco smoke, purposeful prejudice and hate speech. Website: www.susan-laine-author.fi Email: susan.laine@hotmail.com Blog: www.goodreads.com/author/show/5221828.Susan_Laine/blog Facebook: www.facebook.com/Susan-Laine-128697277229180 Twitter: @Laine_Susan

    Read more from Susan Laine

    Related to Accidental Chemistry

    Related ebooks

    LGBTQIA+ Romance For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related articles

    • Article

      Dustin Lance Black.

      Jun 4, 2019

      Dustin Lance Black.
      8 min read

    • Article

      Re-Imagining Masculinity

      Jun 10, 2019

      Re-Imagining Masculinity
      4 min read

    • Article

      Righteous

      Jan 22, 2019

      Righteous
      8 min read

    • Article

      Good Guysfinish Last

      Oct 6, 2020

      Good Guysfinish Last
      3 min read

    • Article

      Not That Story

      Oct 28, 2017

      Not That Story
      7 min read

    • Article

      A Hard Man To Forget

      Jan 8, 2024

      A Hard Man To Forget
      4 min read

    • Article

      I Met Myself Coming Back

      Oct 6, 2022

      I Met Myself Coming Back
      6 min read

    • Article

      Festival

      Sep 15, 2018

      My husband, who loved festivals, who was a great fan of festivals, wanted to get to the square in time for the first band at eleven o’clock. From bed, the dog and I watched him dress. He tried on various T-shirts, declaring some of them too tight and

      13 min read

    • Article

      The Heavy Load

      Dec 31, 2018

      The Heavy Load
      4 min read

    • Article

      The Duplex

      Jun 9, 2020

      I moved to Los Angeles to sing. When was this? August? June? I was twenty-nine, and those were shapeless months, when the days blended together and I refused to pull them apart. My landlord was unusually close to her adult son. His name was Jeffrey,

      21 min read

    • Article

      Dating? We All Make Mistexts

      Jun 9, 2022

      Dating? We All Make Mistexts
      2 min read

    • Article

      Push

      Aug 4, 2022

      Push
      5 min read

    • Article

      Ladies’ Night

      Aug 15, 2023

      Ladies’ Night
      5 min read

    • Article

      Watch Your Step

      Nov 19, 2020

      Watch Your Step
      5 min read

    • Article

      Hollywood, Ending

      Feb 13, 2018

      Hollywood, Ending
      7 min read

    • Article

      Uncontrollable, Irrelevant

      Dec 6, 2022

      My sister called me the other day. She wanted to let me know that I had once more been merciless and cruel in my relations with our parents. “They say there’s a lot of anger in you,” she said. “It makes them mad. It hurts their feelings. They think y

      14 min read

    • Article

      My Best Friend

      Oct 1, 2020

      My Best Friend
      6 min read

    • Article

      Cherry Bomb

      Aug 11, 2020

      Cherry Bomb
      3 min read

    • Article

      Life In The past Lane

      Aug 27, 2021

      Life In The past Lane
      5 min read

    • Article

      Crime Wave

      May 10, 2019

      Crime Wave
      13 min read

    Related categories

    Reviews for Accidental Chemistry

    3.5/5

    3 ratings0 reviews

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

      Book preview

      Accidental Chemistry - Susan Laine

      Chapter 1

      THIS is the story of how my greatest screwup turned into something wonderful.

      I, Zane Roscoe, was sitting at the very end of the bar, my back pressed against the wall, as I studied the men circling me. They passed by, cruising, giving me their suggestive smiles and wicked winks and wordless promises of a casual night of pleasure.

      I’d had a rotten day at my evil day job—said job courtesy of my older brother Zak, who insisted I needed to learn about responsibility—working as an assistant manager at a local musical-instrument store. My boss, Carl Jenkins, was the definition of a jerk. He didn’t have an artistic or musical bone in his robust body, which looked more like it belonged in a chop shop or a junkyard than a store selling musical instruments and supplies. And yes, being an assistant manager to an asshole was as exciting as it sounded.

      Minding one’s own business was pointless in a gay nightclub, especially after a day that sucked ass the wrong way. My goal was getting laid. I had brought this misery on myself, this foolish state of mind of wanting… I knew not what. I could have gone home after work and drunk myself into a stupor all by my lonesome. But here I was, in the Pump and Circumstance, a pretty decent club close to the brand-new loft apartment I shared with two roommates, both of them as young and crazy as me.

      Anyway, I wasn’t looking for a meaningful connection.

      I came here to fuck or be fucked. Mostly the former, considering my boss did an awesome job fucking me on a daily basis. No, not like that. Yuck. Just… being a jerk, counting every penny, worrying over every bohemian or rocker dude who entered the store as if they were out to get him, and generally being a prick about every goddamn thing, from the fleck of dust on a guitar to the muddy footprint on the floor by the door. And getting a raise from the fastidious dick was less likely than winning the jackpot in the lottery three times in a row.

      All right, enough whining.

      Like I said, I was looking to hook up with a hot, gorgeous guy for a night of senseless fucking. Sure, it would improve my mood only until I got up in the morning, feeling as shitty as ever. But that was tomorrow.

      Tonight I wanted to get laid.

      And Lady Luck seemed to be on my side as the barman came up to me. I assumed he did it to ask if I wanted a refill of my Pornstar—a drink made of vodka, blue curaçao, grenadine, and Sprite—which I had been nursing most of the night. Instead, he leaned in close, planted a fresh drink in front of me, and whispered in my ear, From the cute blond over there. With his thumb he pointed vaguely behind himself, toward the other end of the bar. Yep, there was a cute blond sitting there with two other guys, huddled together as if enjoying a good fire, and said cute blond was smiling in my direction.

      Not a bad prospect, I thought to myself, examining the dude from afar. But I needed a closer look. So I waded through the thumping, jumping crowd of sweaty, feverishly hot bodies of men who all wanted the same thing until I got to him and his friends. Hi.

      The guy quirked a curious eyebrow, and then his gaze raked all over me. The familiar flush of heat spread through me as he did so. Up close, I could see that his blondness was a dye job, and those pearly whites flashing at me from behind that salacious smile were caps, but the green eyes were real enough. And as long as he tasted okay, gave good head, and was willing to bottom, I couldn’t have cared less if he turned into a pumpkin in the morning. One of us would be gone by then anyway. My money was on him.

      Hi. His voice was smooth and laden with sultry promises, and I wanted to take him up on those offers of delight.

      Here, you can take this seat. A mousy kid who had been sitting next to the blond guy got up a little shakily, perhaps drunk, and gave me his seat. His voice had been so soft, I almost hadn’t heard it, and he looked scared. I flashed a grateful, winning smile at him and took the offered seat.

      The blond guy leaned away from his friends and in my direction, and I engaged in idle, mindless chatter that functioned as a mere prelude to doing the nasty. I was about to ask him if he had a place nearby—easier to get out of his place than push him out of mine—when the barman set another drink in front of me. He whispered in my ear softly, with a slightly scolding tone that sent an unfamiliar embarrassment burning through me from head to toe, Not this guy. The guy who bought you the drink was the guy who gave you his seat.

      For a second I was torn between believing the barman was pulling my leg—but really, what would have been his motive?—and wanting him to be lying so I hadn’t inadvertently made a complete ass of myself and hurt the feelings of my secret admirer, whom I had apparently rejected before I’d even realized who he was.

      I turned to the blond in front of me who was oblivious to anything that didn’t have to do with sexual innuendo. Did you buy me this drink?

      The guy blinked as if I were speaking a foreign language, then glanced at my drink and suddenly grinned. You bet. Did you like it?

      Yep, there wasn’t anything real about this guy, and I was disgusted both by him for his deception and at myself for being such a jerk and jumping to conclusions—not to mention my apparently horrendous taste in men.

      I faced the barman. Did you see where he went?

      The big bulky man, who might’ve given me a hell of a ride himself had I been so inclined, nodded toward the door. He left.

      Fuck. I didn’t exactly run toward the exit, but I didn’t dawdle either. I don’t know why it suddenly mattered so much that I find the right guy and explain my purposeless idiocy to him.

      The roar of the crowd was muffled as soon as the metal door slammed shut behind me. Outside the club, it was cold and windy as winter made its way to us. Any warmth I had carried dissipated in an instant, and I realized my clothes weren’t adequate to ward off the chill. The people standing in line to get in were bitching about the cool air too. Hey, at least it wasn’t snowing, not that it ever did in La La Land.

      I looked around in haste, wondering if I had any real chance of catching the guy. He was probably long gone. Besides, I barely remembered what he looked like, only that he was small and inconspicuous. Mousy was the word that had come to mind, although that was an image I wanted to shake off—for my sake as well as his.

      On the verge of giving up my quest, I suddenly spotted a hunched figure sitting with his back toward me on the stone retaining wall separating the tiny club parking lot from the pebbly, concrete riverbank. If it hadn’t been for the glow of the security lights at the edge of the lot, I never would have seen him at all. His

      Enjoying the preview?
      Page 1 of 1