Second Chances in New Port Stephen - Chapter 97

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Second Chances in New Port Stephen - Chapter 97

Eli was going to get snatched by a serial killer, he just knew it. He struggled to pedal his
secondhand bike over a bumpy series of potholes. This back road was in poor shape, but it
didn’t have the deluge of traffic that the main road did. No traffic meant that it was eerily dark
and silent. Any moment now, a millennial Ted Bundy was going to jump out of the Brazilian
pepper bushes that lined the roadside. The way his night was going, though, it would at least be
an improvement.
How had he messed up with Nick so badly? Eli had done everything right: fun atmosphere, a
little act of contrition, plenty of communication….
He’d gone out of his way to make sure Nick knew that Eli knew that whatever they did would be
a short-term thing, a group project but with orgasms. That was clearly what Nick wanted, so
why had he stormed off?

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The only logical explanation, as far as Eli could see, was that Nick had been replaced with some
kind of clone. Like an alien abduction situation.
Because if extraterrestrials weren’t to blame, then the only other option was that Nick
wanted—something more. Which was ridiculous. Eli had managed to ensorcell Nick Wu once;
no fucking way had he done it again. If Nick wanted a real commitment or whatever, how would
that even work? What was Eli supposed to do, move into Nick’s rental and drive down to Miami
every weekend to get heckled by an audience populated by, he assumed, mostly streetracing
enthusiasts? Work part time at some Orlando dinner theater with a fourhour round-trip
commute? Play cruise ships? If they’d even let him onstage, what with all the fucking drag-show
bans that basically tried to keep any trans person from being in public at all.
He’d rather be the ninth victim of the Bath Salts Slasher, please and thank you.
Eli threw himself into pedaling for all he was worth. His tote bag full of seduction supplies—
including his well-chosen sex shop purchases—rattled loudly in the bike’s basket. At least the
cooler strapped above the back wheel was empty of ice, the Boone’s Farm abandoned
unopened on the beach for some lucky fisherman to find. If he concentrated on getting back to
his parents’ house in one piece, maybe he could outrun his annoying thoughts at the same time.
Because love wasn’t enough, right? Even though he loved Nick, even though Nick was the
funniest person he knew (and he wasn’t even trying, the dipshit), even though he would be
happy being with Nick until they were wrinkly and old and had no teeth—none of that changed
the fact that if Eli stayed here for a guy, even one as amazing as Nick, he’d end up miserable and
bitter and everything would be ruined anyway. So maybe it was better that he’d ruined it all
now.