Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“I guess if I got too drunk I could wind up calling Mitchell, confessing my love to him, and asking him to go elope with me in Vegas?” I said.
I’d been at the bar for another hour and a half since my last failed hookup had fled. At this point, even bad ideas were starting to sound good.
And even Mitch’s silly text messages had made my heart ache for him. I was doomed.
Red chuckled. “You’re definitely only getting beer. And Sam’s right. You should go touch the Big Rock Cock.”
“I refuse to touch that thing,” I said. “Everyone’s always putting their hands all over it. I’ve seen people lick it, for God’s sake.”
“Don’t be a germaphobe,” Red said. “I sanitize that thing with a bleach rag every night, by the way.”
“Still doesn’t mean it’s good luck.”
He glared at me. “I have to go restock olives, and then you’re going to explain to me why you’re so hot and bothered by your best friend.”
Red started to restock, but he was quickly pulled away as more and more people started sidling up to the bar. I saw Perry walk in soon after. He was the longtime cook at the tavern, but I barely knew him. He was a stoic silver fox, already fully salt-and-pepper even though he was in his mid-forties. Perry kept to himself, and stayed focused in the kitchen.
Red’s Tavern had started out as a small saloon-like cowboy bar, with wooden furniture, a jukebox, and pool tables. Red was a simple guy, and he’d opened a simple bar. But over the years, it had slowly become the only LGBT haven in the area. The walls had filled up with photos of happy couples drinking and laughing. When Sam was hired, he’d brought his personal touch to the decor, lining the space behind the bar with the rainbow tinsel and offering rainbow boas to any customer who wanted one. Red acted like he hated all the rainbows at first, but over time he even agreed to start stocking rainbow-themed shirts, hats, and jock straps for any customers to buy.
For miles in any direction from here, all you could find were tiny towns, farmland, and long highways. It was the middle of nowhere, Kansas, not exactly a gay mecca. So the old red oak bartop at the tavern certainly felt more like home to me than my tiny, empty house, ten minutes away.
My actual home was lonely. But Red’s was always buzzing.
I pounded the rest of my beer as the crowd doubled in size, and after another twenty minutes I dropped enough cash on the bar to cover my bill and a healthy tip. I was going to go home, come all over myself thinking about a person I shouldn’t, and then sleep.
Then I’d wake up rested and ready to see Mitch tomorrow. With only pure thoughts.
A big, warm body collided with me as I pushed through the front door of the tavern.
“Shit, sorry—” I muttered.
My phone clattered to the ground. As it fell out of my hand I must have swiped my finger across my photos app, because when the phone hit the ground, a big, up-close dick pic spread across the screen.
It was my penis. A stupid picture I’d taken when I had hooked up with a guy last month.
In a split second, I darted down to try to grab it and stumbled, tripping over my own foot. I really was drunk.
“Watch out.” The man reached for my waist, strong hands pulling me up and preventing me from hitting the asphalt. “Wait. Ev?” he asked. His voice was deep and familiar.
The night air was bracingly cold on my molten skin as I realized who was in front of me. I met his eyes. Crystal, pale blue eyes.
My heart leaped around in my chest like a frenzied bird.
Mitchell Price was standing right here in front of me, all six foot three and solid muscle of him.
“Oh no,” I said, looking back at the picture of my very erect penis, on full display a few feet below us.
“Ev! You’re here—”
It finally caught Mitch’s eye. Fuck. I had been trying to prevent that.
“Oh,” he said, immediately averting his eyes. I crouched down and grabbed the phone, stuffing it in my pocket.
“The weather is pretty cold tonight,” Mitch said, literally gazing up at the sky.
“It’s okay, Mitch. I put my penis away.”
“That was yours? I mean—shit,” he said. Even in the dim light of the parking lot I could see the red on his cheeks.
I couldn’t help but start laughing. And after a moment, he got over the awkwardness and started laughing, too.
“Well, that’s one way to welcome me back,” he said, his eyes lighting up. “I was wondering if I should text you to come over tonight.”
Mitch was smiling from ear to ear as the cold breeze gently blew through his hair, pushing it to one side. The same way he used to smile after he won football games back in school.