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Cedric’s going to be here soon.”
    I dressed quickly and was out the door and down the street to the corner before a truck pulled into Glen’s driveway. A very large man climbed out and walked up to the door, pausing to retrieve the gift I’d left behind: it was my pair of navy-blue boxer briefs, which I’d left hanging on the doorknob. I smiled, wishing Glen a great morning, then I found a bush and threw up.
    I stood as tall as I was able and walked toward the bus stop with wrinkled clothes, a bruised and confused ego, and a very sore ass.

Chapter 4
    I Become The Creepy Guy In The Park
    I spent the next week being thoroughly ashamed of myself and agreeing with Twyla that I was a worthless shit who didn’t deserve to have any friends, let alone one as good as her. I swore on my life that I would take her advice on any and all things and only allow myself to be sodomized with her explicit preapproval. I also agreed with Gran (Twyla told her I’d gone home with Glen) that I was a weak-willed little pansy who deserved to have his heart broken since he didn’t have the sense to stay away from guys who break hearts. I swore on my life that I would take boxing lessons and beat Glen into unconsciousness the very next time I saw him. It was further agreed that I would punch him in the throat at least once and in the dick at least twice.
    By Saturday morning, I was feeling marginally better about myself and decided what I really needed was not just any book, but a great book. I wanted a book that would teach me something about love and how to be a better man. I spent a few hours looking at titles and reading descriptions, but I just couldn’t find what I was looking for. Then, there it was, the perfect story. It was called Beauty . I knew I’d found it just from the cover. It featured a beautiful guy lying on a dock in white shorts. I clicked on the purchase button and crawled into bed, ready to spend the day falling in love.
    I still don’t know exactly what drove me out of my room that day. Maybe it was the ray of sunshine that made its way through the crack of my drawn curtains. Maybe it was the laughter I heard coming from our neighbor’s yard. Whatever it was, I could not stay in bed with a book that day. I had to get out and do something. I had to go somewhere else and (you guessed it) read.
    I put on jeans, boat shoes, a gray T-shirt, and the most beautiful lilac cardigan you ’ve ever seen, then headed for Laurelhurst Park. It was still early when I got there. The joggers were thin on the ground and easy to get through. I found the bench where It happened and took a seat, careful that my feet weren’t anywhere near the jogging path. I happily noted that the lilac blooms matched my cardigan and dove into my new book.
    I read for about an hour, only half-aware of the world still turning around me. Beauty turned out to be a great book about two male models who are actually vampire lovers who can go out into the sun because they always wear heavy makeup. I realized pretty quickly that the book wasn’t going to teach me much about love, but I didn’t mind because there was a lot of staking going on and it turns out vampires love to swallow.
    The sun was warm and made me a little drowsy, so I put my e-reader on my lap, leaned back and closed my eyes, getting lost in a daydream in which I got turned into one of the gorgeous, supermodel undead. I smiled at the thought of happily sucking for all eternity. My reverie was broken, the way reveries always are , by the real world crashing in.
    I heard a loud clomp as something hit the bench next to me, followed by a deep, sexy voice. “How’s War and Peace coming?”
    I opened my eyes and looked up at the running man. He was just as beautiful as I’d remembered; tall, muscular, and glistening with sweat I was sure would taste like saltwater taffy if he’d let me have a lick. He was wearing lycra running shorts that day and it was just not fair. I tried to remember the