That Turtle Story by Poe C. S

Author:Poe, C. S. [Poe, C. S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay, Romance, gay romance, Humour, Contemporary
ISBN: 9781644050392
Goodreads: 42872262
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2018-12-01T08:00:00+00:00

GUS WAS staring at me over the tank of unhatched loggerhead eggs.

I glanced up from my notepad, the Christmas tune I’d been humming dying in my throat. “What?”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re chipper.”

“Okay.”

“Why’re you chipper?”

“Uh. I can’t be happy?”

Gus recoiled, like me even using the word “happy” had been morally offensive. “Do you have a fever?”

I shook my head. “Temperatures are fine. No sign of any hatching, though. I’m really worried the embryos were damaged by external forces.” I walked out of the incubation room with Gus on my heels. “If they don’t hatch by Christmas—dude. Stop following me.”

Gus frowned. She left my side, went to the counter in the welcome center, and retrieved a first aid kit. After sifting through the contents, Gus removed a thermometer and approached again. “Open.”

“What?”

“Open your mouth.”

“I’m not going—stop it, Gus!” I smacked the stick away as she tried to prod my lips open with it.

“You were humming ‘Jingle Bells’!”

“So?”

“So you either have a fever or you’re having a fucking stroke!”

“Yesterday I was too mean and mopey, and today I’m too happy. What do you want from me?”

“Oh my God, you’re not a pod person, are you?” Gus looked visibly startled at the idea and took a step back.

I rolled my eyes, pointed at her, and made a halfhearted scream à la Donald Sutherland.

“Creep,” she protested.

“I’m not a pod person. I’m just in a good mood.” I turned around when the door to R&R opened and a handful of tourists stepped inside. “Good morning,” I called. “Welcome to Turtle Rescue & Rehabilitation!”

“Did you get laid?”

“Shush,” I muttered to Gus.

“You did, didn’t you?”

“Not the time,” I said through gritted teeth.

“You went out with Eugene.” Gus smacked my shoulder and then did a weird little wiggle-dance. “He got that booty. He got that booty,” she sang.

“I’m going to kill you,” I warned.

Thankfully, Gus didn’t drag out the teasing.

Well… she stopped somewhere around 12:27 p.m.

Not that I was watching the clock while plotting her inevitable demise or anything.

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