With another month of quarantine ahead, Dillon is depressed. Stuck with no one to talk to but the squirrel who visits his terrace for snacks, he's pretty sure June is going to suck. One morning, things start looking up when a pride flag appears on the terrace railing right across from his.<br><br>Kit is up from downstate for just a month. He and Dillon hit it off and find a way to make the best of social distancing and the clothesline that runs from one building to the other. They even celebrate Pride and other occasions with their neighbors and spend some intimate moments together, despite being so far apart.<br><br>As much fun as June turns out to be, what happens when Kit's short stay is over? Are the two only enjoying a brief summer fling? Will even more distance between them mean the end of everything?

Let's Hang Out

Oh. I did that, too. Can you say overeager?


To show I was great sport, I yanked down my shorts and underwear, too, then chucked them—”Fuck!”—right over the terrace railing.


I’ll run down and pick them up when we get back from the beach.


I stepped to the railing—without a coffee cup—looked down and spotted my shorts and boxers.


Maybe Nutter Butter will bring them back for me.


Looking over the edge was dumb, when the view across was so much better.


I still got my fishing pole handy. If I catch ‘em, can I keep ‘em?


When I stood straight and waved, Kit sent me an eggplant emoji, then stretched toward the sun that hadn’t quite made it up over the horizon yet. At least it was relatively mild. When he took a sip of his coffee, I got to see all of him, albeit from a social distance of thirty fucking feet.


Chapter 9