Butch Buchanan has spent his life trying to forget the stuff he did when he was an asshole teenager. He’s also spent most of his fifty-two years on this planet convincing himself he’s straight. And the fact that he gets down and dirty with Salvation’s foreman whenever his itch needs scratching? Guys do that, right? Doesn’t make them gay or bi, right? Besides, Butch is always the top, so he’s definitely not gay. Right? But those nights aren’t about intimacy—they’re about steering him away from the dark chasm of his dreams. Only, it’s not working. The comfort and safety he’d found has become a rut, and the road ahead goes on and on, no divergence, just a straight run that seemed to be going nowhere. Middle of the road isn’t enough anymore.