Yeah. Curtis’ breath hitched and
his cock thickened. He took a long draught of his beer. “So where’d you learn
to play guitar?”
“On
my daddy’s ranch,” Riley said, then started when Curtis whooped. “What?”
“You
area real cowboy!” They both laughed. “So where’s your dad now?”
Riley
paused, his lips on the rim of his glass. “He passed, a year or so ago.”
“Fuck.
I’m sorry.”
“It’s
okay.” Riley shook his head. His blond hair smelled good, like it was freshly
washed, then dried in the fresh air. Curtis found himself leaning in closer, to
breathe in all of Riley, maybe to comfort him if he needed it.
“We’d
kinda lost touch anyway. We didn’t agree on…certain things. I was travelling
the States when I heard he’d died.”
“Did
you go back to the ranch?” Curtis was embarrassed to find he was like a
schoolboy in his eagerness to hear about the American cowboy’s lifestyle. He
could just imagine how loudly the other guys would laugh at him. Well, maybe