Mark
Palastine lives across from a neighbor who will change his life. A man
he's only seen, and crushed on, in images, a model by the name of Jimmy
Saldana. When Mark is an unfortunate witness to the meltdown of Jimmy's
love life through the personality mags, his heart goes out to the other
man.
And then they meet...
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Excerpt:
Mark
saw Jimmy a couple more times that week, but only once with his
boyfriend, thankfully. Once he was walking around the living room
talking on his cell phone in just underwear. That fueled dreams and
fantasies for days! After the first week, Mark began to feel bad always
looking for Jimmy. It wasn’t right. He should have privacy in his own
home, except…
Jimmy never closed those damned blinds! Never!
Mark swore a blue streak when he caught a flash of skin and like a bad
wreck couldn’t help but watch as the two men chased each other around
the apartment with cans of silly string. So he wasn’t just a boyfriend,
he was a friend.
After two months of it, Mark had convinced himself to ease off on the
obsession. Jimmy was out of his league and always would be. He didn’t
have any more voyeur episodes either. He actually felt pretty good about
that. If Jimmy was free-spirited and an exhibitionist, it didn’t mean
Mark had to watch, even if he knew he’d love it.
Then something changed. Walking past the newsstand on his daily commute
from work, he spotted the screaming in font headline on the cover of
one of the tell-all rags. “Patton Vorga engaged!” Mark’s mouth fell
open. He’d never known the man’s name, hadn’t cared. But the man in the
picture next to the obviously pregnant woman was Jimmy’s boyfriend!
Usually oblivious to the snark and gossip, he bought the tattle-tale
newspaper and stuffed it into his messenger bag, scurrying with the
crowd to get home now to read it.
Inside his apartment, he plopped down to his couch and ripped it open
to the right page, reading. There was usually a nugget of suspicion if
not full truth in any gossip, and if she was carrying Patton’s child…
Mark bit his lip, his stomach heaving. He leaped to his feet and rushed
to the window.
Jimmy wasn’t home. God, as much as he wanted Jimmy, he didn’t want him
hurt, and if this was true… After five minutes, and no sign of life in
the other apartment, he left to change out of his work attire. He tossed
the crumpled newsprint on his bed and stripped to an A-shirt and gym
shorts. He’d relax then go for his evening run. He was sure everything
was okay with Jimmy. No, it wasn’t Mark that would comfort him, but he
had to believe the gossip rag was just speculating. Jimmy was an
upstanding guy, charitable worker and had never been slandered.
Mark shook his head. “You know way too much about that guy,” he
muttered. He just didn’t want to see Jimmy crushed by an asshole.
He balled up the newspaper and tossed the pages into the recycle bin,
calling it done then spun to gather his keys to go run. And was stopped
in his tracks by the flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye.
Jimmy was home. He was storming back and forth across his living room,
vanishing into his bedroom then reappearing, as though the lavish
apartment was just too small to contain him. The phone was plastered to
his ear and he was gesturing broadly and angrily.
“Oh, hell.” Mark paused by his fishbowl window and watched the world
beyond. The agony was clear even through the distance. Mark’s chest
ached with the pain he knew the guy was enduring.
Jimmy froze in the living room and shouted into the phone then threw
it. A heartbeat later, he followed in the same direction only to return
with the trashcan in hand. One, two, three photo frames were pitched
into the can.
Mark put his hand to the glass. “Oh, baby,” he breathed. “I’d never do that to you.”
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