Two men, dozens of cities, and a connection they just can't seem to shake. We haven't spoken in fifteen years, and Marlon is the last person I expected to run into in a bar on Bourbon Street. He's not my gangly internet pen pal anymore, he's all muscles, body hair, and temptation. Our friendship feels like it never faded, but the heat between us is brand new. We're both in different cities every few weeks, hustling to build our careers and soaking up all the perks of being young, hot, and untethered. But our paths seem to be crossing more and more often. “Meet Me There…”, they're my new favorite words. Honestly, I think I'd follow Marlon anywhere. Does he feel it too? \\\*Meet Me There is a stand alone, super steamy, ultra-swoony best friends to lovers, long distance love, coming of age in their 30s MM romance with very low angst and lots of happy, mushy feels.

Getting caught in the middle of two hyper-competitive, muscle-bound gym bros isn't supposed to be this fun, is it? I'm a list person. Lists make sense, they give a chaotic, unpredictable world order. Realizing I was gay at thirty definitely wasn't on my list. I guess I need a new list… New check New gym let's call that work in progress… Dive into the gay dating DOUBLE check I didn't plan to move in smack dab between two rival beef-cakes, but I'm not complaining. I can't tell if wooing me is just another challenge they're trying to win or if fighting over me is their way of dancing around the obvious tension between them. But, the more I get to know them both, the more I'm hoping this whole thing might be real. I don't think I have the list for this…