Page 94 of True

"God," sighed Alec. "I could get used to that."

"Could you?"

"Just don't stop."

Tyler said nothing, simply smiled. He was comfortable with silence, always had been. His

hands traveled higher, beneath Alec's calves, squeezing and kneading. Alec melted deeper into the

couch cushions.

"You can have me any way you want if you just keep that up. I mean it."

"Do you?"

Alec propped himself up on his elbows. He dug his foot into Tyler's crotch, felt the swelling

bulge there with the heel of his foot.

Tyler looked up, but not at Alec. He stopped the massage, stood, and placed Alec's feet on the

sofa behind him. He went into the kitchen. Alec watched him, sensing something was off.

"You OK?"

Tyler didn't answer. He removed two beers from the fridge and brought one to Alec. He sat back

down, avoiding eye contact.

"How much longer?" he said.

Alec sat up, placing his beer on the side table. "I've reached the point in the novel where we are now, comfortable with each other and fucking like bunnies. I'm not sure what's next. It's a little troubling."

"I'm not talking about the book, Alec. I'm talking about us. When are you going back to

Washington? Are you going back to Washington?"

"Oh. I see." Alec said. "The plan was to be back by Christmas."

"That's less than a week."

Alec scooted closer to him. "It's OK, Ty. We'll work something out. I can come back. And you

can come to Dupont."

Tyler stood and went to the fireplace. "I can't leave the horses, Alec. This is my home."

Alec nodded. He had known this conversation was inevitable… had been dreading it. "I know. I

know you belong here," he said. "And DC is my home. But I think we can find a way to make this work."

"DC isn't your home. You told me you were originally from the south… Georgia. You're a

writer, Alec. You can work anywhere. Haven't you been selling articles since you've been here?"

"Yeah, but that's different. This was an excursion. My column centers around an area of

Washington. This was my take on city-goes-to-town."