Improper Fraction by V. L. Locey

Author:V. L. Locey
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, erotic, gay, gay romance, new adult, contempary
Publisher: Gone Writing Publishing

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The following morning, I was up and out the door at six am sharp, wearing new walking shorts and ready to burn off the ten trillion calories I had ingested last night. As I walked past the Rook house, the front door opened and Tipsy ambled out. The old golden wagged her bushy tail when she spied me. I paused to scratch her head then smiled at Garrison when he jogged up to me, Tipsy’s pink leash dangling from his fingers.

“Wow, you showed up to walk,” I said. He gave me a wink then snapped the leash to Tipsy’s matching collar. Not that she really needed a leash. She was an old grizzled warrior, close to fifteen years old now at least. Her snout was white and she never left the Rook property, not even if a cat ran by.

“I told you I would. So, want to take go past the park or sneak through the woods?” Tipsy stood beside Garrison sniffing the morning air. It was cool now but the sun would be over the trees soon and the temperature was supposed to soar. I gave the question some thought while I checked out Garrison’s beefy thighs encased in dark blue spandex. “If we take the woods to the old Pinkerton place, we can stop and make out.”

“Woods it is then!” I announced then walked off in the direction of the small patch of nature a few blocks over. Tipsy barked in agreement. Garrison fell in beside me. We set a good pace but had to slow it down for the dog. “I need to talk to you.” I told my walking partner as we crossed our street and picked up Crestview Lane. A car slowly crept past. Garrison and I both waved at Mr. Ashton as he made his way to work at the realty office in town. Garrison gave me a curious look.

“Sounds important,” he said, and I nodded.

“Last night when I got home, my father was still up. Heartburn from your mother’s garlic bread.” I explained when he gave me shot me a concerned look. “I know, I always get nervous when he says he has heartburn.”

“So he was up, so what?” He gave Tipsy a gentle tug to get her nose out a Mrs. Minkman’s petunia patch.

“He saw the marks on my neck and began questioning me about who I was with,” I said. His mouth grew tight and he threw quick, nervous glances at the houses we were passing.

“Did you tell him we were with friends?” His voice sounded panicked.

“No, I told him the truth.”

“What?” He tripped over the dog and nearly fell on his face. I grabbed his upper arm to right him. Garrison tore himself from my grip. His gaze flew over the path that cut through the Peterson’s yard to the short strip of trees and a creek that we called “The Woods”. It was far from truly being woods but to boys of seven with vivid imaginations, it was a forest dark and deep.

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