An excerpt by Beth Brock
A car pulled into the driveway in front of my apartment. I hurried to the window at the corner of the room and looked out. Tyler unrolled his long frame out of the teal Toyota Tercel and pulled on the hem of his sweater vest, trying to straighten it. The last light of the summer evening caught his wispy hair, turning the short, curled threads to gold and wreathing his face in a halo. He smoothed his kakis with his palms and then bent over and reached into the passenger seat, grabbing a six pack of beer and shutting the car door.
I smiled because he wore those clothes for me. I was always telling him that he looked good when he dressed like the professor he was going to be, but he wore Bronco’s shirts and saggy jeans most of the time. I wasn’t a poster boy for gay fashion either, but at least I didn’t let my folks influence my wardrobe. I just had no money. I’ve been in school my entire life, and even though my English dissertation was next year, I would still be in debt up to my eyeballs for years to come. I wore my knockoff jeans and second-hand tees with a different sort of pride.
Tyler adjusted his glasses that had slipped down his slender nose and fully straightened his body, walking toward my apartment.
I let the curtains fall close, opened the door after the first knock, and basked in the answering smile Tyler gave me. His green eyes crinkled at the edges and his lopsided grin sent a wave of warmth through my body.
“Hey,” I said and stepped back so he could enter.
“Hey Josh,” he said and moved into the kitchen. He opened the fridge and put the beer in. I swung the front door closed and bit my lip as I watched his lean arm muscles flex under his form-fitting, button-down shirt.
He was mine tonight. My girlfriend, Kaylee, was at a conference in Indianapolis, and Tyler had said that had lied to his girlfriend about where he was going. I had a few guilty thoughts, but they were drowned out by the beat of blood in my ears and my jagged respirations.
Tyler had barely finished closing the fridge, when I rushed him. I spun him around and wrapped them around his wiry body. I put my weight on my toes and tilted my face up eagerly. He dropped his head to mine and our lips pressed together, teeth clashing. I ran my hands through his blond curls, tugging them gently. Tyler made a noise through his nose and put his hands on my firm waist, stepping me backwards toward the bedroom.
We continued our jerky dance all the way to the bed, falling on it with loud sighs. I closed my eyes and swallowed, my Adam’s apple bobbing as I bared my throat and I surrendered to his long hands and lips…