by
In 1993 Fort Lauderdale, Brandon—a conflicted nurse with a secret—finds refuge and reckoning inside The Green Marble, a cozy coffeehouse where poets, queers, and misfits gather after dark. Straddling two lives, Brandon navigates an unspoken bond with his charming supervisor, a strained relationship with a woman he doesn't love, and a growing awareness of who he really is. As romance, regret, and creativity collide, The Green Marble becomes more than a café—it’s a sanctuary where truth is brewed one poem at a time.
Published: November 16, 2025
Publisher: Independently Published
Editors:
Cover Artists:
Genres:
Pairings: M-F, M-M
Heat Level: 2
Romantic Content: 3
Character Identities: Bisexual, Gay, Lesbian
Protagonist 1 Age: 26-35
Protagonist 2 Age: 26-35
Protagonist 3 Age: 26-35
Tropes: Coming Out / Closeted, Coming Out Later in Life
Setting: Florida
Languages Available: English
Publisher: Independently Published
Editors:
Cover Artists:
Genres:
Pairings: M-F, M-M
Heat Level: 2
Romantic Content: 3
Character Identities: Bisexual, Gay, Lesbian
Protagonist 1 Age: 26-35
Protagonist 2 Age: 26-35
Protagonist 3 Age: 26-35
Tropes: Coming Out / Closeted, Coming Out Later in Life
Setting: Florida
Languages Available: English
Excerpt:
Jane undressed casually, naturally. She didn’t try to make a show of it, and maybe that was the problem. Brandon watched her move, her body familiar but distant. He undressed more slowly, trying not to seem reluctant. She lay down first, pulled him beside her, and kissed his neck with practiced ease.
He tried. He really did. He touched her the way he knew she liked. Kissed her shoulder. Pressed his lips to her collarbone. But something inside him resisted. There was a wall, thick and invisible, between his body and his mind.
He closed his eyes.
And there he was again—shirtless, tanned, and leaning over the hood of a dusty sedan. Jane’s brother. Danny.
Brandon hadn’t meant to notice him that day at the BBQ. But there he’d been, lifting the cooler full of beers like it weighed nothing, biceps taut, hair wet from the sprinkler. He laughed with his mouth wide open, no shame, no mask.
READ MORE
Brandon had looked too long, long enough to feel sick with himself afterward. He remembered the slick sweat down Danny’s chest, the tiny freckles scattered across his shoulders.
He was thinking about that now, not Jane.
"Brandon," she murmured. "Are you okay?"
He blinked, caught.
"Yeah. Just—tired, like I said."
He rolled onto his side, away from her, hoping she’d take it as intimacy instead of evasion. She nestled into his back, her arm draping over his waist.
After a few minutes, she fell asleep.
Brandon stared at the ceiling.
He couldn’t breathe. It was as if the air in the room had grown thicker, pressing against his lungs like guilt.
He got up quietly, careful not to wake her, and padded to the kitchen. The cold tile shocked his bare feet. He poured himself a glass of water and stood in front of the sink, letting the faucet drip rhythmically.
What was he doing?
Jane was good. Kind. She deserved someone who craved her, not someone who pretended. Not someone who fantasized about her brother to get through sex.
He leaned against the counter and let his forehead rest on the cabinet.
He wasn’t gay.
He couldn’t be. Could he?
He'd had girlfriends before. Had slept with them. Smiled in pictures. Gone to weddings. But there was always something slightly askew, like watching someone else live his life through a foggy window.
A memory surfaced—freshman year of college, a party, too much tequila. A boy named Ricky. A drunken kiss in the backyard, just a dare. It had made Brandon's heart race. He'd laughed it off. Swore it was meaningless. But he remembered that kiss more vividly than any girl he'd kissed since.
COLLAPSE 
