Page 29 of Out of the Storm

Assholes.

Jeff scrunched up his nose.

“I’m not sure I have one,” Jeff settled on instead of confessing that he sort ofdidhave a type, only it was a shitty one. Maybe it wasn’t his type anymore, but it still bothered him to think about it now. “What about you?”

“I’m not sure if I have a type either. And I have so little time for romance anyway. I’m plenty busy with the radio station. So...” Gary huffed an uncomfortable-sounding laugh. “Yeah, it’s just me and my hand over here.”

God, that image. Blood was rushing to Jeff’s nether regions from the merethoughtof Gary touching himself. All sorts of shit started running through his mind. Questions likeWhat’s Gary’s cock look like?,What’s Gary into?,andDoes he whack off in the morning or the evening? Or both?Squirming, Jeff readjusted his pants. They’d suddenly becomewaytoo tight.

“Sorry,” Gary said. “I was trying to be funny. Or, well, I’m not sure. Boy, what a stupid comment that was. Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Uncomfortably hard was more like it.

“Yeah, I...” Jeff shifted his hips. Okay, he wanted—no,needed—to touch himself, and he couldn’t very well make himself come with Gary on the other end of the line. “I’m not uncomfortable. Just, uh, tired. I touch myself plenty too.”

Jesus, what the fuck, Jeff?

Gary cleared his throat again. Christ, how awkward this conversation was now.

“Wow, well, okay then,” Gary spluttered.

Jeff covered his reddening face with his free hand.

“Good night, Gare.”

“Night?”

Quickly, Jeff placed the receiver on its base, and somehow, it only took a few seconds for him to push past his lingering embarrassment enough so that he could finish himself to the thought of Gary Graham masturbating.

Chapter Seven

Gary

One week later, Gary was scribbling an example equation on the chalkboard at the front of the lecture hall when the room’s large wooden doors creaked behind him, causing him to pause mid-scrawl. For some reason, his silly brain had the nerve to hope that his slightly broody custodian friend had skipped work to visit him. Even though that was completely foolish, Gary still looked over his shoulder to see who it was. But it wasn’t Jeff. Only Mel, who was now taking a seat in the back row.

For the remainder of the class, Gary did his best to avoid catching her eye. Mel had a habit of trying to make him laugh while he was teaching. Geez, why wasn’t she back at the library where librarians belonged? Weren’t there books that needed shelving?

Once the lecture was over, Mel bounded toward the front of the classroom to see him.

“Hey, bozo, why’ve you been avoiding me?” she asked, pausing to smooth out the creases in her skirt. “If it’s because I teased you over the toilet paper you had stuck to your shoe the other week, that really isn’t fair. You can’t have a real-life sitcom-worthy blunder and not expect me to comment on it.”

“I amnotavoiding you.”

“Uh-huh, sure.”

“I’m not!” Gary said before her narrowed gaze shattered his hopes of holding onto that lie. “Okay, Iamavoiding you, but I have a perfectly valid reason for it.”

“Which is?”

“Billy McCoy.”

“Oh God, what now?”

“I’ve kind of been talking to him every single night for the last three weeks. I’m so tired.” Gary started to pretend to yawn, but it turned into a real one. “Sorry. I mean,wow, I’d been tiredbeforethe two of us started chatting—you remember how upset I was about that silly photograph I found—and, well, even though Ifeelbetter now—emotionally, that is—I swear, I’ve barely been sleeping. It’s like I’m either talking to Jeff or... orthinkingabout him.”

Mel’s hands found her hips, and she leveled Gary a skeptical look. “Wait, you’ve been avoiding me because you’ve been staying up to talk on the phone with the surly custodian from the Eastwood Mall?”

“Yeah, well, I’ve kind of been forcing him to call me.”

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