Published in 2020

Paid to be Shared by Romilly King: Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway!

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by Romilly King

“Married couples don’t do absolutely everything together,” Griffin had rationalized to Ivo when they got further than just hinting around the edges of the issue, “Nobody needs to witness anything, it will keep the mystique intact,” 

And that sort of made sense to Ivo, although somehow he didn’t think that fucking a submissive fell into the same category of married life as toenail clipping and nasal hair trimming. But he couldn’t deny either Griffin or himself, because he could feel himself and his marriage fading to shades of grey for lack of it. 

He swallowed at the fear that suddenly knotted his stomach. He wasn’t used to fear, as a surgeon, he was never fearful, but the thought of losing Griffin for lack of this scared the hell out of him. 

Only this morning he had laid in bed, listening to Grif in the bath- room, hearing the sound of the shower, the turn of the taps, the buzz of his toothbrush, and he had thought, yeah, it will be just like this, routine maintenance, I don’t need to see it. That had made sense in the sunny domestic glow of their bedroom with its rumpled sheets, the scent of Griff ’s body wash, and the detritus of their life lying around casually. 

Griffin had come back into the bedroom, happily naked. His pale, freckled skin glowed in the morning light, and his face had been eager and excited, making him look years younger. He had slid up the bed, crawled up Ivo’s body, pressing kisses to his naked skin as he went. He had nuzzled into Ivo’s neck, lipping at the sensitive skin under his ear, and Ivo had tilted his head back, letting his handsome, funny, desperate husband have full access to his skin. 

Yeah, Ivo had thought, we can have this, us together is the crucial thing, the thing I always need to see. 

He had wrapped his arms around Griffin and rolled him. Griffin went easily, trusting and relaxed and had smiled up at Ivo, all soft because he knew Ivo would never ask anything of him that he didn’t want to give, not again. Ivo had looked down at his husband, “I love you,” he had said. 

Griffin had reached up, tangled his hand in Ivo’s short dark hair, and pulled him down for a kiss, “I love you too.” Their foreheads had pressed together, their breaths had mingled, and Griffin’s had been all minty when he said, “We got this.” 

“Yeah.” 

Ivo sighed, too heavily, and Dr. Gregory and Griffin both turned and looked at him. “Sorry,” he apologized, “Uh, yes, as medical professionals testing is high on our lists of priorities. We can arrange it through the hospital.” 

“You can certainly arrange your own testing through your facility,” Dr. Gregory said equably, “But all our Venditores are tested here in house, so you don’t need to worry about that,” 

He took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes, and Ivo was struck by how young he was to be Head of Organizational Psychology at Delph- ic. His professional rank was the same as Ivo’s own, but he was a good ten years younger. The agencies did tend to headhunt the prodigies, so chances were they had groomed this young man through scholarships from a young age. 

Ivo was glad he hadn’t been a prodigy. He had enjoyed his career trajectory, a steady climb through his surgical residency, his fellowship, and then latterly, with Griffin at his side, rising like a bubble through the ranks to Head of Thoracic Surgery. He didn’t want to go any fur- ther, he left policy wrangling to Griffin, he liked his hands inside bodies too much, that was where he belonged. 

“It’s clear you have put a lot of thought into this,” Dr. Gregory looked up at them both, “and that is essential with a complex contract like this,” 

He studied them both across the desk, “I think I can speak freely with you, we all share a similar background. This is going to be a diffi- cult contract for Delphic to fill – and please, make no mistake, we want to fill it – but it isn’t straightforward, and I am duty-bound to oversee 

it personally, primarily for the sake of our Venditor, because we will be asking a lot of him.” 

Ivo felt the fear return, this time, it was fear that they would not get to have this, that their fundamental incompatibility with each other would deny them once again. 

“Is there any possibility that you would consider two submissives on a less intensive schedule?” Dr. Gregory asked reasonably, “There are a limited number of Venditores that even get close to matching your joint profile. We have manually cross-referenced for compatibility, and additional training would be required even then. 

“Of course, that isn’t your concern, but if you were willing to con- sider two Venditores for fewer weekly …” 

“Do you have a compatible Venditor?” Griffin interrupted him, and Ivo was surprised by his aggressive tone, “Because there are other agencies if you cannot fulfill this request.” 

Dr. Gregory looked at them neutrally, “There is no other agency that can even get close to giving you what you need,” There was the slightest emphasis on the last word and Ivo, despite his tendency to miss social cues, heard it loud and clear. 

Griffin did too, and he reached for Ivo’s hand. Ivo took it and squeezed. 

Dr. Gregory sighed, and Ivo realized that those moss-green eyes weren’t just kind; they were full of empathy, and Ivo felt naked before them. 

“As I said, I will oversee this contract personally, and I will be work- ing with the Venditor we think may be able to accommodate your needs,” 

Ivo heard Griffin let out the breath he had been holding, and his hand relaxed in Ivo’s grip. 

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Book Review: Spring Frost Romance by Johnny Miles

Reviewed by Astros

Title: Spring Frost Romance
Author: Johnny Miles
Heroes: Jackson & Griffin
Genre: M/M Fantasy Romance
Length: 143 pages
Publisher: Deep Desires Press
Release Date: June 26, 2020
Available at: Amazon
Add it to your shelf: Goodreads

Blurb: Spring is coming, and under the melting frost, desire stirs…

Jackson Frost is youthful and charming, even if he can come off as a bit cold at times. Griffin Kloss is a gruff, 30-year-old failed businessman in need of nurture as he licks his wounds. When the two meet, it’s love at first sight. And there’s something about Jackson that’s magical.

And mysterious.

Jackson has secrets, and with the spring thaw coming, it’s harder for him to keep them from his lover. As Griffin deals with an ailing mother and a life that seems to slip away, he longs to hold onto Jackson, even if it means denying the worst of his fears.

Some things are not meant to last, but Griffin is determined to find the one exception, even if he must learn to believe in a new kind of magic.

The magic of the heart…
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Book Review: The Care and Feeding of Waspish Widows by Olivia Waite

Reviewed by Ami

Title: The Care and Feeding of Waspish Widows
Author: Olivia Waite
Series: Feminine Pursuits #2
Heroines: Agatha and Penelope
Genre: F/F Historical Romance
Length: 292 pages
Publisher: Avon Impulse
Release Date: July 28, 2020
Available at: Amazon
Add it to your shelf: Goodreads

Blurb: When Agatha Griffin finds a colony of bees in her warehouse, it’s the not-so-perfect ending to a not-so-perfect week. Busy trying to keep her printing business afloat amidst rising taxes and the suppression of radical printers like her son, the last thing the widow wants is to be the victim of a thousand bees. But when a beautiful beekeeper arrives to take care of the pests, Agatha may be in danger of being stung by something far more dangerous…

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Two Princes by Maggie Blackbird: Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway!

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by Maggie Blackbird

“If you’ll excuse me, since I didn’t expect to have to stay after school, I have a few phone calls to make. I’ll be right back.” The teacher turned and swished out the door.

Billy finally expelled the laughter from the back of his throat. He wasn’t writing anything. If they wanted to lock him up and throw away the key, they could try. He only had four more months until he turned sixteen, and his get-out-of-jail-free card was burning a hole in his back pocket to finally escape this prison.

“What’re you laughing about?” René snapped open the three rings on his binder and shucked four pieces of paper onto the desk.

“From where I’m sitting—nothing.”

“Whatever.” René started writing.

This would piss off His Royal Highness, but big deal. Billy had to find some kind of amusement to pass the time. He wormed his desk against the floor until it bumped Rene’s.

“Get back to your spot.” Warning lingered on René’s order.

“How am I s’posed to help if I’m sitting a mile away.” The crisp clean scent from this morning settled under Billy’s nose. “What’re you doing?”

“What’s it look like? Completing our assignment. Go ahead, call it a joke. But I got a job to work and had to get someone to cover my shift at the store. There isn’t a chance I’m coming here tomorrow.”

“Giving your version, huh?” Billy leaned over to peek at the paper.

“I told you to step off.”

“Watch it. I get a say, too. I wasn’t even bugging Stu. He was invading my turf.”

“Your turf?” René snorted. “It figures you’d claim ownership of Indian Corner.”

“Not like you’d be caught dead there, eh? Can’t be seen near ‘skins.”

“As if.” René kept writing.

The five-dollar words on the paper jumped out at Billy: Billy Redsky’s family is responsible for his attitude problem, because they aren’t respected in the community. This is of their own doing since none of the adults work and refuse to maintain their home. Therefore, Billy feels the need to assert power over others whom he feels inadequate to, which resulted in his dispute with my cousin’s son, Stuart, this morning.

“Bullshit. Erase it.” He snatched the paper and crumpled it in his hand. The fancy report mirrored what Chief Oshawee probably said at the dinner table every night. “Stu approached me. Got it?”

“Don’t you ever disrespect me again.” René looked down his nose, as he’d done this morning. “You want something from me, you ask. Got it?”

“I ain’t asking for nothing. You didn’t ask me if you could write that bullshit about me and my fam.”

“Seriously? You want to help write our report?” René tossed the pen on the desk. “Fine. Have at it.” He snatched the extra paper and slammed it in front of Billy. “Get writing… if you know how to write.”

Billy seized the paper. He shouldn’t have crumpled the other one. Maybe in the upper grades they had to write those important essays, but not in the lower classes. He had to come up with something or René would laugh.

Billy began writing what he believed was the truth. René Oshawee is the chief’s spoiled-rotten son who thinks he can get away with anything…

“Get real. Chrome Dome isn’t gonna buy what you’re selling. He knows I’ve never been in trouble. I shouldn’t have agreed to what he asked.” René sat back, shaking his head.

“What’d he ask you to do?” Suspicion crawled up Billy’s spine.

“He said he saw potential in you and asked me to help. That’s why he has us writing this dumb report. He thought if you had a chance to work with me, you might smarten up.”

“Uh… he did?” The hostility vanished. The tension crawling along Billy’s spine melted. Finally, after fifteen years, someone gave a shit, even if it was the lame Chrome Dome. “You… uh… agreed?”

“Yeah.” René grabbed the paper. “Are you in or not?”

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Fancy Love by A.F. Zoelle: Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway!

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by A.F. Zoelle

At the sound of Jules’s cheery greeting, I turned around to face him. My initial response died on my tongue when I saw that he wasn’t alone. Rune was with him, looking like sin itself in a dark gray suit, black shirt, and silver jacquard tie with purple, blue, and red flourishes. In black-rimmed glasses, he resembled a sexy professor I desperately wanted to teach me a lesson.

It was almost impossible to tear my gaze away from Rune, but I forced myself to focus on Jules. I was proud I managed to squeak out the word “Hi,” when inside I was losing my shite over Rune being there with his brother.

Jules was kind enough not to laugh at my response. “How’s it going?”

“Uh, good? Yeah, good. Good is good. Great, actually. Right?” Fantastic, I sounded like an idiot in front of Rune again.

“Right,” Jules agreed, amusement lacing his tone. “I’ll go bug Xander now, so I’ll see you around.”

My heart leapt into my throat when I realized he was leaving me alone with Rune. I dared to glance up at him through lowered lashes, causing my pulse to skyrocket at how beautiful he was. How was it possible for one person to be that attractive? God, and he smelled so fucking good. Was there an aphrodisiac in his cologne? It made me want to lick his neck to see if he tasted as good as he smelled. Where did those weird thoughts keep coming from?

I knew I needed to speak so I didn’t come off as a total gobshite. If I had been outgoing like my brother, it would have been easy to say, “It’s great to see you again. Are you doing well?” Instead, all I got out was a breathy “Um, hi? Again. Hi. Hello. Hi again.”

The corners of his mouth quirked up at my pathetic attempt at greeting him. His voice was smooth as silk as he replied, “Hello, Callum.”

I hadn’t known my name could be sexy until I heard Rune say it. The sound of it on his lips sent shivers through me. It made it exceedingly hard to respond, but I valiantly fought against my ineptitude. “How have you been?” I applauded myself for getting out a complete sentence. It was a serious triumph in the face of his good looks.

“It’s been brought to my attention that I’ve been a shitty friend.” He carded his fingers through his hair, making me feel faint. “I owe you yet another apology.”

“Huh?” I cleared my throat and tried again for a better response. “What? Why?” Oh well, so much for those complete sentences. They were overrated, anyway.

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Standard Candle by G.B. Lindsey: Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway!

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by G.B. Lindsey

It’s quiet out. A few porchlights are on, mostly in the tiny apartment complex. Denny’s is one of them. His stoop is plain and flat, just a concrete slab with a railing, a single potted plant at the edge. The broken step is fixed, filled in with barely smoothed cement, and the old screen door has finally been replaced.

When you knock, the front door opens. Den looks bewildered, still in the jeans he wore to the party, the dark lines hugging his legs and washing out to thundercloud blue at the knees. His green shirt’s off, just a thin, ribbed tank top. “Avery?”

“Hey.” The sight of him shoves core deep. You want this. You don’t need any more parties or deals.

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People Like Us by Ruby Moone: Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway!

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by Ruby Moone

Joseph arrived clutching two tankards of ale. He put them down and settled himself opposite.

“Your good health,” he said, raising his ale, before taking a long drink then wiping the residue from his whiskers which the back of his hand.

Arthur took a smaller, more delicate sip, tilted his head, and regarded Joseph. “You know, you should let me shave you.”

Joseph’s eyes widened with alarm. “Why?” He ran what looked like a protective hand over his face.

“I’ll wager you’ve forgotten to trim your beard for a while.”

Joseph shifted uncomfortably.

Arthur gave him a playful pout. “I suspect there’s a jolly handsome man under all that fur.”

Joseph’s gaze dropped to Arthur’s mouth. Arthur’s mouth promptly went dry. Blinking rapidly, he took a long drink of the ale.

“How old are you anyway? It’s hard to tell with all that hair.”

“Five and twenty. Why, how old are you?” Joseph was still watching his mouth. Intently.

Arthur sighed in a theatrically wistful manner and waved a careless hand. “I can almost give you twenty years. You’re a babe in arms.”

He expected a witty retort, but instead Joseph’s arm stilled in midair, holding his tankard.

“I’m no babe.”

Arthur held his gaze for a moment, then swallowed and looked away. “No. No, you’re not.”

Joseph took a long drink of his ale, still looking directly at him. “You can shave me if you like.”

Arthur swallowed. Wondering just what Joseph was agreeing to. “Thank you.”

They drank in silence for a while. It wasn’t a comfortable silence, unlike previously. From nowhere, Arthur’s body was humming in a way it hadn’t done in years. He was aware of each movement Joseph made. Aware of his hands, large and work roughened around his tankard, the way his eyebrows plunged in a frown that looked entirely forbidding, but Arthur now knew that he was simply thinking. The swipe of his tongue over his lips to collect the foam from the ale that left them soft and glistening. Arthur drew in a long, slow breath and realised he might be in trouble. He was hard in his breeches, but the biggest worry was the ache in his chest. The pleasurable ache in his chest, he noted, that came when he watched Joseph Wilkinson do anything at all. The realisation that he could happily spend a long time just … watching him. It was an attraction that caught him completely unawares. He’d acknowledged at some level that Joseph was an extremely attractive young man, but this… He sighed. He needed to get things back on an even keel.

He glanced up at Joseph. Those penetrating blue eyes were wary, but curious.

Arthur smiled, raised his tankard, looked away, and took a long drink. It was the best he could do.

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Prancing of a Papillon by Tara Lain: Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway!

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by Tara Lain

“I’ll bet you played football in college.”

Jericho squeezed the words out between his teeth. “No. I studied education. What about you?”

Malcolm ran a hand over his slicked-back hair. “I’m an administrative assistant.”

“Oh, how interesting.” Jericho swallowed and rushed on. “I mean, it must be interesting if you have an interesting, uh, person you assist.”

“She’s a pain in the ass.” Uneasily, he glanced at Batshit. “So, you like dogs, huh?”

“Truthfully, she belongs to friends. I’m just taking care of her.”

He smiled bigger. “That’s nice of you.”

“Yes. My dog’s under the table.”

Malcolm glanced and said, “Oh dear God.”

“I gather you don’t like dogs?”

“I don’t have a lot of experience. I mean, I travel a lot, and I hear they need somebody to take care of them all the time and shit.”

“Yes, dogs are a lot of work.”

“Woof.” Batshit looked up at Jericho with implied criticism.

Malcolm frowned as he glanced around. “Jesus, who do I have to kill to get a cup of coffee?”

“Sorry.” Jericho waved a hand and the waiter, Timmy, hurried over.

“Hi, Jericho. How’s your mom?”

“Pretty good. How about your auntie?”

“Oh dear, her arthritis get’s worse and worse.”

Jericho nodded. “I understand. It can be so debilitating.”

Malcolm made a huffing sound. “Could I get some coffee, please?”

“Oh sure.” Timmy rushed off, came back with a pot, and filled the empty cup in front of Malcolm. “Are you ready to order?”

“Just coffee and keep it coming. Gotta keep the boyish figure.” He leaned over toward Jericho. “I’ll bet it’s steak and eggs for you, right?”

“Uh, no. I’ll have the feta and spinach scramble and a lemon scone, please, Timmy.”

“Aka, your usual?” Timmy grinned. “I’ve already got it ordered.”

Jericho giggled. “And, of course—”

Timmy and Jericho spoke simultaneously. “A side of turkey bacon.”

“Woof!” Batshit gave a little hop on Jericho’s knee and Malcolm again pulled back. Behind him, Timmy made a face, then walked away.

Malcolm said, “I would’ve thought at a restaurant in such a ritzy town they’d have better service.”

Jericho stroked Batshit to calm his nerves. “Timmy’s actually a great waiter. He just knows me really well, so he’s a little familiar. Sorry.”

“Oh sure, no problem. So you must be some big-time educator to get to live in Corona del Mar.”

“I teach first grade.”

“First grade?” He laughed. “Kindergarten Cop. Jesus. Aren’t people afraid to leave their kids with you?”

Jericho tried hard not to scowl. Scowling made him look scary, but he’d heard that tired Kindergarten Cop joke so many times. He cringed, waiting for Malcolm to say, “Boys have a penis. Girls have a vagina.”

He was saved by Timmy who bustled to the table with a tray, set it on a stand, served Jericho’s eggs and scone, and then poured more coffee for both of them.

“Woof!”

“I didn’t forget you, cutie.” Timmy made kissy sounds at Batshit. With a flourish, he picked up a plate loaded with turkey bacon and put it on the table. “There’s your favorite.”

Bat’s expressive ears stuck straight up at that moment. While she was super finicky about food, turkey bacon got her attention. Jericho took the saucer from under his coffee cup, broke up some bacon on it, and pushed the saucer toward Bat. Then he grabbed a saucer from under an extra cup, ripped two pieces of bacon in half, and set the plate on the ground. Killer was on it like a rat on a pile of rocks, the job cairn terriers had been bred for.

Batshit cocked her head, daintily removed a single piece of turkey bacon, and pulled it onto the tabletop, where she stuck out her tongue, and slid it into her mouth. Her head disappeared as she ate it—on Jericho’s good jeans, of course, but if he put her down, Killer would have her food in a flash. Jericho smiled as she gracefully chewed. He looked up to say something to Malcolm.

Malcolm stared at him in horror, like Jericho had just invited Godzilla to the table and fed him one of the diners. Jericho tried to make his smile reassuring. “It’s no big thing. Everyone in Corona del Mar has a dog, and they all feed them at the table.”

Malcolm literally cringed, pulling his coffee cup off the table’s surface.

Jericho added, “I suspect they do clean the tables between dogs.”

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Matched To His Wolf by Lorelei M. Hart & Colbie Dunbar: Exclusive Excerpt!

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by Lorelei M. Hart & Colbie Dunbar

“Watch where—Bentley,” the man said, who I now recognized as a lawyer from the firm we used.

“Brad, dressed in liquor are we.” I inhaled deeply to prove my point and was stopped dead in my tracks. It wasn’t just booze saturating his scent. Mate.

A growl built in my chest as I grabbed the bear’s shirt. 

“What the fuck, Bentley?” His bear rose within him, pushing to get out, Brad’s eyes no longer his own and snapping me out of my building rage. 

“Sorry.” I stepped back. Could I take Brad? That was debatable. Did I want to find out? Fuck no. “I thought—never mind.”

“You’re lucky your business is more valuable than my pride right now, you dog,” his spit reached my face. “What a fucked-up day.” He turned around and started to leave, mumbling to himself. 

That could’ve gone much worse. I needed to get my shit together. 

“Stupid human shows up for a date and then the damn wolf gets in my face.” He walked out of earshot as the truth of what he’d just said rang clear. He’d had a date with Colin.

Did the man have a death wish randomly going on blind dates with shifters? And how did he even know how to set them up? Rob and his stupid-ass codes.

I stalked in the direction Brad had come, assuming he had been at the bar given his scent and level of intoxication. It took a lot to get a bear drunk. Chances were good that he started well before happy hour.

I opened the door, and sure as shit, there was Colin sliding off of the bar stool. Did the man want to die a painful death? In this place he was the prey.

“Shame he’s leaving. We might’ve had fun,” some piece of garbage called out from the back. My wolf wanted to go over there and tear his throat out, but not more than he needed to protect our omega. The omega. Colin.

He sauntered in my direction, putting on a brave face, his fear palpable.

Brave.

I opened the door again, louder this time so everyone in the bar would notice. I needed them to see he was protected in case he ever attempted anything this dumb again.

Ours.

My wolf needed to pipe down.

Colin met my eyes, stopping his journey only briefly and then closing the distance between us, attempting to walk around me. “Let me by.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” I scolded low and firm, my wolf so present my body shook slightly to contain him. 

“You are not the boss of—” 

Forget that noise, I grabbed his hand and hauled him out of there. I needed to get him home and safe.

His home.

Not mine.

Probably.

I dragged him down to the corner, the one in the opposite direction of where I came. My wolf wouldn’t allow me to bring him closer to Brad, even if Brad was most likely already home and back to his drinking.

The scent of cigarettes to my left had me swapping sides with the omega, my fingers grazing and holding his for a few seconds and only pissing him off more. Did he not see I was saving his ass?

“Get your hands off me.” He shrugged out of my grip, and I allowed it. Out here I could protect him. It was one cigarette guy that reeked of rat and my wolf. No contest. In the bar? That was a completely different story. I might be fierce, but thirty against one never ended well for the one.

“We may have fucked, but that doesn’t give you the right to manhandle me.” 

The man with the cigarette stepped out into the light and started to clap, his eyes shifting. Yep. Rat. And the rat was eyeing my mate like a delicious morsel.

I turned my head and allowed my wolf to shine through, and he took the hint and scampered away as Colin took a step towards a car at the curb.

He drove! On top of meeting a stranger—a bear at that—at the seediest bar in town, he planned to drive home afterward?

It was official, Colin needed his own security team if these were the types of decisions he made.

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Hardwood by K.M. Neuhold: Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway!

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by K.M. Neuhold

“Shit,” I curse under my breath. “Not to add to the situation, but I really have to pee.”

“Dammit, what are we going to do?” he asks, his eyes pleading as he starts to chew on his bottom lip. During our make-out session, one of my hands seems to have made it onto his chest, and I can feel his heart pounding now as panic starts to set in.

“Take a deep breath. We can figure a way out of this.”

“I can’t very well come stumbling out of the closet with my daughter’s music teacher. No matter how perfect that metaphor would be,” Everett points out sounding a bit frantic.

“Okay, calm down. Give me a second to think.” We don’t exactly have a lot of options here. I can still hear both muffled voices right outside the door.

“Of all the ways I could end up coming out to Val,” he mutters. “And, fuck, are you going to get in trouble for fooling around with a parent in the janitor’s closet?”

“Ev,” I say firmly but quietly. “Listen to me, this isn’t how you’re coming out to Val. And I’m not going to get in trouble, although of all the reasons I could lose a job, making out with a hot dad in the janitor’s closet would be my preferred way to go.”

“Sorry. If I have a meltdown, it’s not going to help anything,” he says.

“Exactly. Okay, here’s what we’re going to do.” I check over his appearance quickly to make sure he doesn’t look like he’s been in here getting ravaged. “You go out there, and I’ll stay here.”

“What?”

“Play dumb, act like you got turned around while looking for the bathroom, and then lead Val away from here so I can come out,” I explain.

“I got turned around looking for the bathroom and have been standing in the broom closet for ten minutes?” he hisses. “Am I supposed to pretend I took a piss in the mop bucket too?”

“Do you have a better idea?” I challenge.

He clenches his jaw and is quiet for several seconds before pressing his ear to the door to listen and cursing again.

“All right, fine. It’s going to be a miracle if Val buys this.”

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