Page 15 of Rough and Rugged

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Page 15 of Rough and Rugged

First Edition: Feb 2024

Copyright © Incognito Scribe Productions LLC

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means without prior permission of the author, except in cases of a reviewer quoting brief passages in review. For subsidiary rights, please contact Kris Butler, [email protected]

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, either living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

No AI was used in the production of this work of fiction.

Line editing: © 2024 by Blue Couch Edits

Cover Design: © 2024 Incognito Scribe Productions LLC

Chapter One

Everett

Theredflannelshirton my bed mocked me. How could a shirt mock a person? Well, the longer I stared, the more it morphed into more than just a shirt. My best friend gifted it to me last Christmas, and I’d yet to wear it. Not because I didn’t like it. I did. Truly. But she coined it as a ‘falling in love’ red plaid, and I’d fall in love when I’d wear it.

I’d rolled my eyes at her then. Why I’d pulled it out tonight, I didn’t know. I wanted to get laid, not fall in love.

My dog, Ranger, tilted his head and his chocolate eyes dared me to say that out loud. He lifted his paw and placed it near the red flannel, urging me on.

Lovely. Even my doggivesme fashion advice.

Resigned, I rubbed the back of my neck, spraying water droplets in the process. I needed to get dressed or I’d be late, but I couldn’t stop glaring at the shirt.

It’s just a shirt. It can’t make someone fall in love with me!

Yet, five minutes later, when I patted Ranger’s head and told him to be good, I had on my navy plaid shirt. It was thinner and brought out my eyes, two important qualities for dancing and picking up guys. That was all. It had nothing to do with being scared of falling in love. Nope.

I drove the familiar curves and bends, making my way down the mountain toward the small town of Applewood. Tonight was my last chance to get laid before the craziness of the following week unfolded. My best friend was getting married and, in perfect Mindy fashion, had a week-long itinerary of events planned. It was more peopling than I did in an entire month, which meant I needed a night of hot, meaningless sex to make it through—Mindy’s words, not mine.

I’d agreed to meet for dinner before heading a few towns over to Ridgeway. It was slightly bigger than Applewood, but considering the club hosted queer night twice a month, it expanded the pool of hookups. Especially since Applewood only had two gay men, and I was one of them.

Pulling into the town pub, I took a deep breath before opening my door. It was just dinner. Then, I would be on my way to rubbing up against random strangers. How dancing with hot, sweaty men was preferable to small talk with townsfolk, I didn’t know. I’d learned not to question my brain anymore. I didn’t always make sense to myself, never mind others, but I no longer cared.

The Sawmill might not look like much on the outside, but the view always took my breath away. The autumn sky tinted pink and purple; the sun dipping behind the mountains. The trees burst with color over the valley, drawing eyes in every direction. I tapped my fingers against my jeans, eager to capture how the light danced on the leaves.

I was half tempted to turn around, go home, and do just that, but then I remembered why I was here. And while I might loathe most people, I loved Mindy and would never miss out on something for her. She’d been the first friend—and only—I’d made when I’d moved here four years ago. No matter what, I wouldn’t trade her friendship for anything.

Even if it meant peopleing. For Mindy, I would.

I opened the door to the Sawmill Pub and squinted as my eyes adjusted to the dark interior. Grimacing, I headed to the bar and snagged two stools when I couldn’t spot Mindy.

“Usual, Daws?” Tony asked, using the town’s nickname for me. Mindy was the only one who used my first name, something I liked. It kept everyone else at arm’s length.

I nodded, saving all my words for hooking up later. Thankfully, Tony wasn’t a chatty bartender and filled up a pint glass of the local IPA and placed it on a coaster.

While sipping the cold beer, I scanned the place again. It was a Friday night, but the pub wasn’t crowded. I spotted a few regulars playing pool, some other Applewoodians dancing to the jukebox, along with a handful of strangers. Most likely tourists stopping in on their way somewhere else.

My heart stuttered when I stumbled upon a pair of evergreen orbs and I eagerly attempted to suck in oxygen. It was as if he’d punched me in the gut with one look.

I trailed my eyes over him, taking in his dark blond hair that curled over his forehead and fell in long strands around his head. I wanted to thread my fingers through it; his dark green eyes peering up at me as he sucked my cock with those perfectly pouty lips.

My dick jumped at the image, already half-hard. Holy fuck.

Tony stepped into my line of sight, disrupting my perusal of the hottest man I’d ever laid eyes on. Irritation rose at not being able to check out the hot guy, my body returning to normal, and reminding me how uncharacteristic of a response that had been.




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