Evan Gilbert - Unwrapping the Present by Evan Gilbert

Author:Evan Gilbert [Gilbert, Evan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

C hapter Six

I

t was approaching noon on Tuesday, and Austin had not come out of his room. Edna knocked at his door. “Austin? You awake in there?” She had heard him talking earlier on his cell phone, his voice so low it was barely audible.

Austin opened the door and peered out at her. “Hey, Edna.” He had on jeans and a bulky pullover sweater. “Oh, good. You’re dressed. Since you skipped breakfast, come to the kitchen and let me make you a sandwich. Then we’ll head out to the DeSoto Civic Center. They’ve opened the indoor ice skating rink. We can—”

“Sorry, Edna. I just remembered something I have to take care of.” He stepped out of the room with his jacket in hand. Closing the door, he started up the hall.

“Do you want me to drop you off somewhere?” “No, thanks.”

“You still need to have that sandwich.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll grab a bite. See you later.”

Pulling on his jacket, Austin plunged outside and ran up the street. The air was a bit colder than yesterday, the sky clear and sunny. He dashed around the corner, and Seth was waiting there on his motorcycle. They broke into grins when they saw each other.

“Hey,” said Seth. He held out a helmet that had the same black-and-red color scheme as the one he was wearing. “Hey.” Austin strapped the helmet on his head. He felt some trepidation, but it helped that Seth looked downright delicious—so delicious, in fact, that Austin only now noticed he was riding a different bike this time. It had metallic blue plating and black leather seating, more compact and futuristic-looking than the other one. “This is different,” he observed.

“My Harley-Davidson is a cruiser. This one’s a sport touring bike. Honda.” Seth leaned forward, his gloved hands taking the handlebar grips. “Come on.”

Austin slung one leg over the bike, settling himself on the narrow seat as he slipped his arms around Seth’s waist. Seth started the engine, flipped up the kickstand, and they roared off. The design of the bike put most of Seth’s weight forward, his butt jutting back. There was a little ridge across the seat, designating separate spaces for driver and passenger. Austin slid forward and over that ridge so his crotch nestled against Seth’s ass.

Riding a motorcycle, he decided, was fucking hot. They took I-55 north into Memphis, picking up I-240 and heading east. Austin was enjoying the ride; he liked the way they knifed through traffic, easily passing cars and trucks, the cold, crisp air sweeping past them. It was every bit as exhilarating as Seth had said. Exiting on Highway 385, they continued east into Collierville, one of the small suburban towns that surrounded the city. After passing through the town’s business district, they rode down a wide, quiet street lined with big, neat houses. The street ended in a cove, and Seth pulled into the driveway of the house in the center, a wide, tan brick ranch with green shutters. There were pine wreaths with red ribbons hung on the door and each of the front windows.

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