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I couldn't speak. I couldn't believe it was Avery next to me, not Mace. I'd have sworn otherwise, the feeling of it being Mace having been so real.

"Did you come yourself mute?"

"No. I just got lost for a little bit."

"Thanks for the fuck. I'm gonna go. I'll see you at brunch Sunday."

"Yeah, I'll see you at brunch Sunday."

Avery left. I got up, cleaned myself up, and stared at myself in the mirror. I barely recognized the man staring back at me.


I ran into Timmy the next night at the bar. As soon as he saw me, he started following me. I tried but couldn't shake him. I finally got tired of it and told him to meet me out back.

Once we were out back, I pinned him to the brick wall, tugged his jeans down, and fucked him hard. It was fast and furtive and exactly what I needed. I dropped the condom at his feet and stuck twenty bucks in his back pocket as he buttoned his jeans.

"What's that for?" he asked.

"That's what it was worth to me," I said, dismissively.

"You're an asshole."

"I know."

I left him out back. I immediately felt like shit. When he came back in, his face was bright red. I feared he had been crying. He was headed out the front door when I cut him off.

"Look, kid, I'm sorry. I'm working through some shit, and I just took it out on you. I'm really sorry. Let me buy you a drink and make it up to you."

"That won't do it."

"What will?"

"Take me home?"

"To Ocotillo."

"No, asshole, to your home. Take me there. Now."

I didn't feel like I had much of a choice, so I told him to meet me at my apartment. Once we were there, Pipi reasserted himself. I fucked and licked and kissed and sucked Timmy long into the night. He wanted to fuck me, but I was sore from the pounding Avery had delivered the night before, so I wouldn't let him.
We'd have kept at it, but my cock went limp. With Pipi out, so was I.

I felt worse in the morning than I had after fucking Timmy at the bar. He was asleep, and he looked like a little boy. I realized I had used this vulnerable kid to try to reclaim myself, and it had been a very selfish and self-centered act.

It was also counterproductive. I wanted Timmy to go away, and fucking him senseless was not going to achieve that want.

I made it worse by taking him to brunch with Avery and Bruce. I knew it was a bad idea, but I felt like shit about everything I had done to the poor kid the night before.

He was out of his league and clearly uncomfortable at brunch. He insisted he was 18, but I was seriously doubting it. He seemed too naive.

I dropped him back at his car after brunch. He grabbed paper out of his glove compartment and wrote his number down.

"Call me," he said, holding it out to me.

I refused to take it. "Look, kid, I'm not taking that. I'm not going to call you. I'm not going to pretend I will."

"Fine," he said. "But, if you don't call me, I'm not going to let you fuck me."

"I hope not."

Chapter Six

Christmas was bearing down on us, and I was vexed by what to get Mace. I needed a home run, and I was a poor gift giver at best. I enlisted Avery and Bruce in the search for ideas, and they had a blast with it. Each suggestion was more crude and ridiculous than the one before. I resisted the suggestions of butt plugs and cock rings, the equally stupid suggestions of sensual massages and facials ("I thought you'd want to give him a facial," Avery insinuated), and the totally counterproductive suggestion of flying John out for a surprise visit.

"Can you please be serious?" I pleaded. "You know I'm bad at gifting."

"That's because you look for what you'd want, not what the person to whom you're giving the gift would want," Avery alleged.

He had a point. I don't think I'd ever bought a gift I didn't like, no matter what the person receiving it might like. My mother had horrible taste in jewelry. I wouldn't contribute to her bad collection. She wore what I bought her only when I was around.

I started thinking of Mace and what he might want.

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