Got Me Looking by Casey Cox

Author:Casey Cox [Cox, Casey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Gay / Lesbian / LGBT, Romance
Amazon: B09Q3PPK9P
Goodreads: 60101581
Published: 2022-01-23T23:00:00+00:00

13

GUS

As it turns out, you don't conquer a fear of flying with medication or alcohol. The best cure is a sex-related injury––sexjury, for short––preferably acquired during a quick and dirty fuck. Although that last part might just be an optional extra. It hasn't been scientifically tested and verified yet. Either way, my lower back sexjury provided the perfect distraction I needed to help me survive the flight back from New York a week ago.

A couple of sessions with a physical therapist and some properly prescribed medication later, I'm back to my usual self. Which, truth be told, feels somewhat flat after the high of New York. As the week goes on, it feels more and more like a dream that's fading ever so slowly from my memory. I'm only now realizing just how quickly those few days flew by and how much cool stuff Tate and I managed to cram into them. Did all of that really happen?

And more importantly––was any of it real?

The bell above the door at Mrs. Evans’ bakery lets out a high-pitched jingle as I step inside. She glances over and gives me a friendly nod as she finishes up with another customer. I walk over and eye the display cabinet filled with some of the best-tasting pastries and cakes I've ever had in my life. Mrs. Evans is known for her incredible-looking and even better-tasting delights. She also likes to chat and is a bit of a gossip, which I secretly love, not that I'd ever admit that to anyone.

I absently tap on the glass cabinet as I wait my turn, drink order in hand, as my thoughts return to New York...and Tate. He got back a few days ago after spending some more time in NYC with his mom. We haven't seen each other since he returned, but we've been texting all the time. It started off with his concern about my lower back before morphing into general texts and daily updates.

"How's my favorite vet this morning?" Mrs. Evans asks, approaching me, her smile crinkling the corner of her friendly eyes.

"I'm good, thanks." I hand her over the piece of paper with the drinks order.

She takes it from me and studies it for a moment. "I'll just need a few minutes, dear."

"Not a problem. I don't mind the wait." It's a big order, so I know she'll need some time with it. And yeah, I don't mind having another opportunity to go back to daydreaming about Tate.

Mrs. Evans walks over to the industrial-sized steel coffee machine which, I gotta say, looks a little out of place in her otherwise quaint little bakery. The machine hums to life, and I see her pop her head around the side of it. "What are you chuckling at?" she says to me.

I step closer to her so she can see and hear me better. "I was just looking at this monster of a machine and how funny it looks in here."

She quirks an eyebrow. "You've got to move with the times.

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