Scott's vision is fuzzy. Hazy. Unfocused like it hasn't been since the LASIK. He vaguely wonders why, but his head hurts so much he's distracted and can't figure it out. He thinks for a second that he's drunk. That he's given himself the mother of all hangovers. But his shoulder and his arm and his chest and his side...
"I take every boy there just to make out with them, you were nothing special, Scott." But he was. Scott was special. Mitch just didn't want to admit it. Not after they fought for so long and broke up. Scott had a hurt look on his face, but Scott isn't really one to share his emotions or burst out crying in front of...
"Police! Open up!" I yell, banging again. I steel myself as this time I hear the locks click-clunk and see the door pull back slowly to reveal a half-naked blond bear of a man, who fucking towers over me. He's standing, blocking the doorway, with a frying pan in one hand and an aerosol can in the other. His face is fl...