Exclusive Excerpt from Standard Candle
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.