Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
My phone buzzed again a moment later and I raised my hackles like a dog, expecting to see my mother’s name on the screen again. Relief flooded me when I saw it was a text from Harlan.
>>Harlan: Doing some research.
Next came a picture of the Wikipedia entry he was looking at on his clunky old laptop: the entry for truffles.
>>Sawyer: You just did the impossible. You got me to smile after I just had a phone call from my mother.
>>Harlan: I must be a magician.
>>Sawyer: A magician, a wizard, and the best person I know. How the hell are you up so early, anyway?
>>Harlan: Misty barked at a bird on the windowsill at six in the morning, and I’ve been up ever since.
>>Sawyer: Researching truffles.
>>Harlan: Sawyer, I am going to be Jade River’s town fucking expert on truffles by the end of the morning.
I laughed warmly as I polished off the rest of my coffee.
>>Sawyer: Can’t wait to hear all about ‘em, then.
A few minutes passed, and just when I thought the conversation had ended, I got another buzz.
>>Harlan: And about the kiss last night, thank you. Thanks for saying something, I guess. Not always the greatest at talking about feelings or whatever, but we can both just forget about it. It’ll be good. So, yeah. Thanks again.
There it was, plain and simple.
He wanted to forget about it, and so that’s what I would do. There was nobody I respected as much as Harlan, and nothing was ever going to change that.
I tried not to focus on the sinking feeling in my chest as I realized that I wasn’t going to be able to kiss him again.
It was my day off, so after the one-two punch of my mother’s phone call and my head swimming with thoughts about Harlan, I knew I needed to push a big, giant reset button.
I got changed, pulled on my running shoes, and got out the door.
It had been ages since I’d gone on a long morning run. The air was crisp, the birds were just starting to sing, and the sunlight dappled through the leaves and the spruce trees as I took off down my street. I lived a little further away from the town center of Jade River, on a little street full of small houses tucked into the forested mountains.
These roads felt like home. I jogged and jogged, letting my muscles warm up and following my breath until I felt like I wanted to stop. And then I kept jogging some more. Right away the thoughts cleared from my head like rain clouds breaking for sunlight.
All I had was myself, my breath, and the pleasant burn in the muscles of my legs. I started the run on a little trail that led toward a mountain, going uphill for a bit until it started to hurt. I turned around and headed right back down, and beelined my way through a flat, winding forest path.
I took some breaks to walk, but all in all, it was another two hours before I arrived back at my house. I hopped into a shower immediately, rinsing off and finally feeling like I could truly relax.
As the water cascaded down my body, I realized that I was hard again. Really fucking hard, like my morning wood from earlier had come back with a vengeance.
I toweled off, headed for my laptop, and paused.
An idea floated through my mind, and my instinct was to shove it away. But a moment later, it seemed like the only logical thing to do.
I headed straight for a porn site and quickly clicked on the “gay” category.
A glut of images of very naked, very erect men suddenly populated the screen. It was nothing but muscles, giant cocks, and lots and lots of tan skin.
But I had to know. Was I actually starting to realize that I had the capacity to be attracted to guys? I clicked around from video to video. My hard-on definitely didn’t go away, but I also didn’t feel any particular urge toward any of the footage I was seeing. It all felt neutral, just like I’d always felt toward the idea of other guys.
Sure, they could look good. Sure, they could even seem objectively “hot.” But I didn’t crave them.
On one page, an image of a burlier, hairier guy caught my eye, though.
He reminded me of Harlan. Nowhere near as good-looking, but a similar vibe, a type I knew damn well was referred to as a “bear.” I’d heard from Harlan himself over the years that a lot of action he’d gotten in the past was from other gay guys who were very into bears like him, including that guy from the dating app Harlan had rolled his eyes at.
As I watched the video, I was intrigued, but not enough to come to it. But when the camera zoomed in on the burly guy’s cock as he stroked it, something stirred in me.