Be it unrequited fascination with his straight best friend or impossible fantasies of rekindled interest with his heartbreaking ex, Mason has no clue why the perfect connection seems to keep slipping through his fingers. When another lonely holiday seems like too much weight to shoulder, Mason gives up on romance and seeks out the next best thing -- rented company. Jack is everything a person could want in an escort: willing, hot, and built like an angel.<br><br>Mason can't resist. After all, who wouldn't be interested in a guy who loves kid's movies, is a self-professed Peter Pan, and has no problem throwing caution to the wind at a moment's notice. But then interest quickly blooms into a whole new emotion -- an emotion that Mason knows far too well, especially when Jack has no interest in returning it, preferring to keep his heart safely tucked away in Neverland.

Second Star to the Right

“So no seedy bunkers with panting young dudes ready to fulfill your every fantasy, hmm?” Greg asked, his eyes trailing after the departing girl.


Mason laughed. “Just me and my palms, Greg. Like usual.”


“Yeah, I never did figure that one out,” Greg said, suddenly serious. “I get the whole thing about how it’s probably harder to find someone to date when you’re in the, what? Thirty percentile or whatever the hell it is now. But, come on. You’ve got a fuck-ton of cash, you’re decent looking,” Greg shrugged, “or so I’ve been told. You drive kick-ass cars, and you own your own fucking company. How is it you aren’t hooked up?”


Chapter 3