When One Door Opens by JD Ruskin Read Free Book Online

Mom gave Logan the stink-eye, making him feel like he was back in high school. He snuck a peek at the suddenly quiet Stacy. Her grin was blinding. “So the guy you’re dating has a name. Caleb,” she said, drawing out the syllables like a snotty teenager.
    “I’m not dating him. He’s housebound and I deliver stuff to his apartment a couple a times a week.”
    Her grin faltered. “Is he disabled?”
    Logan didn’t like thinking of Caleb like that. “No, he’s real smart and he makes web pages.”
    Stacy bit her bottom lip. “Not porn sites, right? He hasn’t asked to take your picture?”
    “What?”
    Her grin reappearing, she said, “You don’t want to end up on Jerkme.com.”
    Logan realized the rest of the room had gone quiet. Too quiet. Reluctantly, he looked away from Stacy and at the rest of the members.
    A grizzled man in his sixties said, “I’d pay to see that.”
    “Now I’m not judging,” said a preppy-looking guy Logan thought was named Mark. “But there’s a lot of substance abuse in the porn industry. Aren’t you worried being in that environment will affect your recovery?”
    Stacy muttered, “Sorry.”
    Logan took a deep breath. Soccer Mom would never sign his court voucher if he strangled Mark with his too-skinny tie. “I’m not a porn star.” He ignored several murmurs of disappointment. “I just work for a guy who makes websites.”
    “Is he also the star of the site?” That was Jeffrey. The asshole.
    “No, dammit. He….” Logan’s brain overloaded as an image of Caleb looking sweet and coy in front of his laptop as he trailed his fingers down his too-tight shirt pushed its way into his head. Shifting in his chair, he continued, “He makes normal sites for local businesses like Meng’s Market.”
    “I love that place,” someone said as if it freaking mattered.
    Logan was saved by Kathy, and he resolved to never think of her as Soccer Mom again. “I think we should get started with tonight’s discussion. Hopefully, you completed your regret, resentments, and… uh… sex inventories for tonight.”
    Stacy smothered a giggle.
    Leaning over, Logan whispered, “Worst. Sponsor. Ever.”
    Stacy nodded vigorously. “I really am sorry.”
    Logan snorted and pulled three folded sheets of paper from his pocket. Their homework this week had been to reflect on their current and past actions to acknowledge what they’d done, why they’d done it, who they’d hurt, and how it made them feel. It hadn’t been a fun exercise.
    “Does anyone have any experience, strength, or hope relating to the inventories, which they would like to share?” Kathy’s gaze flickered to Logan before she looked away. She looked relieved a moment later when Jeffrey raised his hand.
    “Hello, my name is Jeffrey and I’m an alcoholic.”
    A chorus of “Hello, Jeffrey” rang out.
    “As I was filling out the inventory, I realized it’s so much easier to flirt when drunk. To be charming and confident, because I’m too trashed to know the difference. I can go for any guy I want,” Jeffrey said, his eyes drifting to Logan. “And if I get rejected, it doesn’t hurt. Nothing hurts.” He looked at the sheets of paper in his hands, folding and unfolding them several times. “But nothing feels good either. Not really. I can fuck or be fucked, but that numbness never goes away.”
    Kathy’s nose wrinkled in disgust, from either Jeffrey’s admission or his language. She opened her mouth to speak, but Stacy beat her to it. “When was the last time you were with someone while sober?”
    Jeffrey’s eyes darted back and forth several times. It was painfully obvious he couldn’t remember. After a pregnant pause, his face crumpled and he bent at the waist, covering his face with his hands. Members on either side of him put their hands on his head and back, murmuring words of comfort.
    Logan knew his answer to the question. Never. He’d never had so much as a hand job while sober. He’d been a monk in