Chapter 3

The floor creaked as he moved back and forth. It was an old model, one they took for local trips or down to the Tampa track. Marcus opened the windows and sniffed at the musty smell of a closed up room. It was warm inside.

He set the tote box onto the counter. Inside, two bottles of iced tea clinked against a few beer bottles; he wasn’t sure if David drank beer but he’d brought it anyway. He pulled out the sheet set and candles. At the bottom of the tote were condoms and lube.

It was stupid. He should have invited David to the house—the interns often ate lunch in his kitchen—but part of him wasn’t ready to have another man in the bed he had shared with Philip. He smoothed the sheets over the trailer’s foam mattress, lit the candles and waited.

When he heard the engine in the driveway, his stomach pinched. He saw the truck idling down at the dark house, then it turned slowly and slogged up the hill to the barn.

Is this right?