For Sale by Owner

By T. Chase McPhee

Published on Jul 24, 2008

Gay

The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons, in towns, cities, nor governmental areas, which the story is stages. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offences you, then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most state and countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such. Sexual safety matters. This is fiction. Use protection, in real life.

FOR SALE BY OWNER 52 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

"Um, aren't you going to smack me, Vince?"

His answer, "Got any java brewin', Scotty?" Vince shrugged his shoulders, giving Jarrett his answer.

"Do you prefer a small cup or large, Vince?" Scott asked, the only size mug the kitchen owned in his hand.

"Make it a double!"

Sitting down at the table, Vince got even, grabbing Jarrett's plate of salmon and eggs right out from under his nose.

"Heeeeeeey! That's 'mine'!" Jarrett protested, fork in hand.

Not the only one victimized, Vince lifted Jason's fork off of his plate. Both Jason and Jarrett sat there, more shocked at Vince's table manners, dumping Jason's orange juice into Jarrett's glass then gulping the whole thing down.

"Mmmmm," Vince burped then, "oh, excuse me," his fist tapping between his pecs, "does it to me everytime, right Jase?"

Looking to Jason for an answer, Jarrett's expression inquired.

"Yeah, Vince." Then Jason directed to Jarrett, "Some foods bother Vince."

"I can see that," Jarrett said coolly. Jason setting him up to take another poke at Vince, Jarrett says, "I can see where all that beer has affected his 'big' belly!"

Kyle assembling Alex's cufflinks, the two stood on the sidelines, watching the two volley back and forth.

However, instead of Vince using any get even tactics, he set Jason up, "You ever tell Jarrett the time you and me got drunk out of our skulls, Jase?"

"No he never told me about that!" Jarrett said it as if an accusation, staring at his sleeping bag-buddy.

"Tell'm Jase. Tell'm how we.... on second thought maybe you shouldn't!" Vince provoked the nineteen year old, then drew back on his appeal.

Teasing, Jarrett says to Jason, "So, you and Vince rolled about under the sheets?"

Suddenly the humor ran out of Jason's face like Dracula draining blood from his victim.

"Um... I... I better get going."

"Get going, but...." Jarrett got out of his chair, Vince stopping him. This time it wasn't a warning of slapping Jarrett silly, but rather the thirty-four year old in a rather serious mood, his hand on Jarrett's hand, telling him, "Give us ten minutes, huh?"

Equally serious-minded, Jarrett replies, "Okay. Whatever you think, but I wish somebody would clue me in to what's happening."

"Will do," Vince left it as before going after Jason.

"What was that all about?" Kyle seemed to address Scott.

"Beats me," Scott replied, shrugging his shoulders.

"Sorry. I'd like to understand what's happening too, but the subway is calling out my name! Keep me posted, babe," Alex said, giving Kyle a brief kiss and then booking out the front door. About a block away, Alex stuck his hand in his back pocket. He exhaled with relief when he felt his wallet. He smiled when remembering Kyle's hand putting it in there, along with some innocent ass-teasing! It became history though when Alex spotted a hot guy on a bicycle, headed in the opposite direction. He did take a moment to turn his head way around, getting a better glimpse of the saddle-rider. Then, seeing people rushing towards the Lexinton Ave. subway station, he took flight.

%

"Do I have the right address? Does Scott Broyles live here?"

"Oh Scottieeeeeeee," Kyle called out. "You have a 'guest'!" Then turning to the guy at the door, he welcomed, "C'mon in."

"Um, mind if I bring my bike in?"

Kyle was more than happy to hold the door for Reiko, allowing him to slide by, same time eyeing the twenty-three year old up and down in his rather swanky riding attire, his jersey sporting a little blue, some orange, but also some lime green and a bunch of companies, some famliar, others a mystery. The biker paid more attention to squeezing himself and his vehicle through the doorway without scratching either the molding or metal than the fact his back grazed Kyle's front.

"Nice color," Kyle said with a smile attached, when quite surprised he was caught 'looking'.

"Thanks. When you buy a bike and want a certain model, you really don't get a choice," Reiko returned, giving Kyle the once over, back.

"What do I know about bikes? I had a Mongoose when I was fifteen," Kyle stirred the conversation.

"Hi there," Scott interrupted them.

Kyle thought to himself, 'they're moving awfully fast', when they both hugged and kissed each other on the lips. Same time he slammed the door shut, interrupting the sweet moment.

"Alright if I leave my bike leaning here?"

"I could put it in the guest room," Kyle offered, going for the handlebars.

"No offense," Reiko replied to the gesture, gaining control back, "but I have a lot of money soaked into this bike and I generally like to handle it myself, if you'll lead the way."

"I'll show him," Scott offered, leaving Kyle at the door. Purposefully he waited to see how long it would take to roll the bike a few feet in, the two making their exit. Kyle smiled when he found he was wasting precious moments. Plus, hearing something go 'bang' in the kitchen, he rushed to see what the story was.

"Oh hi," Vince said, a smile showing his full set of teeth.

"You have that look, Vince."

"What look would that be?" He said like he was hiding something.

Standing there, Kyle waited. He figured the bottomed out conversation would reveal the truth.

"I sort of had a little accident with the frying pan?"

"What'd you do? Hit yourself on the head, Vince?" Kyle said, looking at the curvature of the pan, no longer circular.

"Maybe I should've, huh? Then I would have had the brains not to run the hot pan under cold water, then drop it when it sizzled?"

Standing there, shaking his head, Kyle couldn't help but part his lips with a small smile. "You know Vince if I wasn't getting to like you so much I might have had you banned from the kitchen?"

"Oh that would be terrible. I would probably wittle away to nothing," He said, holding his slight belly.

"Yeah right," Kyle said, more doubting it. "So, what's the story with Jason and you? That is if it can be made public?"

Grabbing two cups, Vince poured out some coffee. Kyle sought out some milk from the fridge. Just as they sat down, who walks in but Scott and Reiko.

Right away Vince thinks, 'I've died and gone to heaven', seeing Reiko for the first time. During the introductions, his hand in Reiko's, Vince ventures to say, "Nice firm grip. You work out?"

At the right moment, wrong for Vince, but for the others a stab at light humor, in walks Jarrett. "Can't you tell?" He tells everyone, but directed at Vince. "He's got worked abs, instead of a beer belly!"

Maybe sensing Vince to be a nice guy, something some people have the gift for, Reiko covers for him saying, "I do like seventy crunches and twice that many pushups everyday."

Then, Vince tries his luck at getting even, saying, "Hmm... maybe I should try doing a hundred pushups over Jarrett's ass!"

"Oh really, Vince," Jarrett replies. "I bet you couldn't even do one!"

"And you?" Vince counters Jarrett.

"I can do them in my sleep!"

Vince's head darted to the right when Reiko said, "Don't back down Vince. Take the little shit on. I bet you can run circles around him!"

The kitchen suddenly was filled with noise, laughing, shouts of Scott standing with Reiko, Jason on Jarrett's side, Kyle playing neutral. Almost lifting a kitchen chair with his finger, Reiko helped move stuff around to accomodate two bodies dropping to the floor.

"Wait!" Vince said as he propped his front up on his elbow. "What are we betting?"

Reiko took one look at Jarrett, then another glance at Vince, saying, "My bike that Vince can out-do Jarrett!"

"Your bike?" Scott gasped. "But Reiko, it's worth like five grand!"

"Oh cool," Jarrett said confidently. "Good way to save on subway fare. Man is this going to be a cinch!"

When Jarrett stripped off his tee shirt, Reiko smiled. Sure, the eighteen year old didn't have the gut Vince had, but assessing him at six feet tall, around one-eighty, he knew he didn't have the muscle power. He predicted Jarrett would have a good start, but then peeter out.

"Aren't you going to take your shirt off Vince or are you too ashamed of your belly lying on the floor?"

Jarrett was asking for it, but in a nice way. They had developed a good rapport and every bit of rib-tickling between Vince and him was known to be a bounty of humor for all to laugh.

In a way, Vince was happy to strip off his shirt. First of all, he kind of got a jolt between his legs knowing Reiko was checking him out. In fact he was kind of 'over-thrilled', when Reiko commented, "Hey, looks like you took care of yourself at one time or another Vince. You're not so far gone man."

"Really? You're kidding?"

"No. Come on. Get down on the floor. I'll show you some stuff."

Scott was all smiles, watching Reiko being a 'big brother' to Vince who had to be about ten years older. Already he sensed Reiko being a nice guy and now this.

"Um, you mind if I...." Reiko wanted to touch Vince, place his hand under him.

"By all means," Vince was more than willing.

It left it wide open for Jarrett to make comment, "Don't get him too stirred up Reiko. We don't want a hole drilled in the floor!"

"Yeah, saving it to drill your ass!" Vince retorted.

In fun they all jeered, except Jason whom showed his allegiance to Jarrett, telling, "Vince is only kidding."

As Reiko placed his palm against the underside of Vince, moved it around on his hairy stomach, Vince didn't say it, but felt like pretty soon he would be wanting to drill the floor!

He didn't mean it as a derogatory remark, but when Reiko commented about Vince's abs, "They've got to be around here someplace," the kitchen erupted in laughter, Jarrett tumbling over onto his back, holding his stomach from so much giggling.

"And I thought you were my friend," Vince commented to Reiko, rolling to one side, looking up at him.

"I am." Then to everyone, he says, "are we going to do this or...." to get back on Vince's good side, "are you going to woos out on us here, Jarrett?"

With Reiko's coaching Vince was able to pull one pushup.

Then he was coached again, "No, you have to tighten up your abs some. Let me show you." All eyes were on Reiko as he unzipped the front of his bike multi-pastel colored jersey and peeled it over his head. "I don't want to get it dirty."

Vince joked, "You saying Kyle here doesn't have a clean floor?"

Left open for criticism, Jarrett replies, "Not when somebody goes dropping greasy pans on it!"

"Jarrett, I'm gonna smack you!"

Everybody smiled, Jarrett commenting, "Yeah sure Vince."

Ready to counter Jarrett's words, Vince got interrupted by Reiko, "Now put your hand under here Vince and feel my abs flexing as I move into the pushup position."

Wiggling his eyebrows, Vince was more than willing to bend down on a knee and slip his hand under Reiko's front.

In the pushup position, holding steady, Reiko cautions, "I said my abs, Vince!"

The gang knew where Vince was feeling up!

"Oh well.. I was just trying to find where they started."

"If you remember high school biology Vince, the abs are 'above' the waistline?" Reiko's friendly nudge made the kitchen erupt in an upheaval of laughter.

Vince didn't mind being reprimanded, Reiko also reminding him his hand was too high. He smirked at Vince when his hand flowed over his hairy pec, a thumb engaging his right nip on the way downwards.

"Um try around my navel?" Reiko suggests. He also hoped the slight hardening effect between his legs subsided before his pushup demo ended. Stalling for time, he gave a speech on how the abs muscles support the spine and the alignment of the body in a flat out position.

"As I've always said," Vince joked, "the topguy is the hardest worker!"

"Yes well," Reiko replied, lost for words of rebuttal, "why don't you try it now?"

When Reiko felt up Vince's stomach this time, Vince tried, "Um, I think my ab muscles are lower than yours!"

"Bad try," Kyle replied, Scott telling Reiko, "Don't let him talk you into anything!"

"I don't know," Reiko came back with, saying as he did it, "I kind of like an older guy's hairy belly."

"I'm not sure about the hair, but he sure has the belly!"

It was the remark from Jarrett which reverted the conversation back to their original idea for lying faced down on the kitchen floor. As for Jarrett, he couldn't lift his six foot, one hundred and eighty pound frame more than three times, or so he said and did.

"Only one more and you've got him beat, Jarrett," Jason relayed, kneeling down next to him, pulling on his shoulder as if Jarrett's chest was glued to the terra cotta flooring.

"Looks like you've got him beat," Reiko congratulated Vince.

With four pushups to his credit Vince kneeled, then sat back, plastering his back against a cabinet. "That's it for me. Whew! I can't believe I'm this much out of shape." Then glancing across the floor, proud look gleaming, said to Jarrett, "But not enough out of shape to whip the pants off of a guy fifteen years younger than me?"

"Sixteen," Jason corrected Vince.

Pressuring his hands against the floor, Jarrett grit his teeth, lifting his shoulders off the floor. Sagging, his stomach wouldn't budge.

"Ready to concede?" Vince badgered the eighteen year old.

"Whew! I must be out of shape!" Jarrett admitted defeat, his chest glued to the floor.

"Or never 'in'?" Vince said, standing up, dusting his hands off.

Then, as Jarrett became ignored, Vince, Reiko, Kyle and Scott gathered around the kitchen island for a round of spring water. When he was sure nobody was watching, Jarrett did an easy pushup, knelt, then uprighted himself.

"Faker," Jason let out of the corner of his mouth so that only Jarrett could hear.

"So, what do I gotta do?" Jarrett asked, standing there with the status quo.

"That's right!" Vince singled himself out as head honcho. "We made some stakes, bet on if I lose, but we didn't say what you would have to do," in a cute manner, "did we Jarrett?"

After Vince had chatted with Jason, more or less relinquishing his duties as mentor over to Jarrett, Jason spilled his guts, telling Jarrett how Vince had been the forte in his quest to come out to the world, except to his own father. It could have possibly been the reason Jarrett threw the contest.

"Sounds good to me!" Vince said of Jarrett's own idea, his punitive measures for losing the pushup contest to Vince.

Encouraging Vince on, Jarrett places his hands behind his head, coaxing Vince along, "C'mon do it, Vince."

"Hmm," Vince pondered, "clear the slate for saying all those times I'm gonna slap you, is it?"

"Bring it on," Jarrett replied.

"Do you have to Jarrett?" Jason questioned his friend.

Instead of Jarrett replying, Vince threw in the towel, "Nah. I don't really need to."

But Jarrett badgers Vince, "Who's woosing out now, Vinnie?"

If it wasn't in such a wiseguy manner of saying it, maybe Vince could have let it go. Instead, Jarrett let out a shriek, as Vince hauled off and slapped him hard, his hand leaving a red print dead center of Jarrett's stomach. Allowing Jarrett and Jason to worry about the big red hand mark crossing over the faint trail dividing Jarrett's abs, Vince went back to the small enclave. "So, what or how do you suggest I get into shape, Reiko?"

With his bike jersey loosely hung on his five foot, eleven inch frame, he clued Vince in, "Diet and exercise are key. What kind of exercise do you like?"

"Lifting?"

"How much can you lift?" Reiko questions Vince.

"Um, like my fork to my mouth?"

"Booooooooo," came the remark from the side counter as Jarrett held a bag of ice cubes to his gut.

"I didn't hit you 'that' hard," Vince said.

"I've got sensitive skin," Jarrett replied.

"Hey I've got to get going," Reiko said, after taking his last sip of Scott's cup of coffee, originally Kyle's.

Still shirtless, it was such a pleasure for Vince to give Reiko a farewell hug.

"Maybe you can come down to the gym at the center?" Reiko asked Vince.

Questioning the 'center', all of the gang received an education on the Gay Pride Center, down on 14th street, Reiko correcting Vince's ideas about it being just a place for hooking up with guys.

"Where can I buy a bike?" Vince asked.

Jarrett again mocked, "Try the Central Park Zoo." Looking to Jarrett they expected the punchline, naturally said, "Maybe they can tell you where they buy the bikes for the elephants!"

After Vince carried out his threat, Jarrett slapped the bag of ice back against his stomach.

%

"I feel kind of useless standing here doing nothing, Jack."

"Is that a fact?" Jack replied, halting the job of pitching hay into one of the empty horse stalls. Leaning on the rounded wooden handle of the pitchfork, he watched as Jim came over, stood in front of him, figuring he was going to take the pitching tool from him and take up where he left off.

"You're sweating a lot, you know?"

"Comes with working in a hot barn," Jack replies, wiping his hand over his sweaty chest and stomach.

Catching him at the wrist, Jim turns Jack's hand around and licks it. Sliding his tongue from the wrist up his forearm makes Jack smile. Raising Jack's arm, Jim's tongue follows all the way up the underside of the sweaty arm. Doing Jim the courtesy, Jack places his hand behind his head, stretching his armpit wide open.

After sucking Jack's hairy pit, Jim stops to say, "You taste soooo sweet!"

"Oh really?" Jack replies, dropping his other hand off the pitchfork, acknowleging some time available for Jim to further his quest to douse Jack's bod with his saliva.

"Mmmmmm," Jim comments, switching from right pit to left.

Leaving both hands parked behind his head, Jack's eyes pivot down, watching Jim lick the sweat off his pecs. Of course he doesn't lick at every follicle of hair. Instead he goes for the sensitive places, Jack's nips.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh," Jack gasps, dropping his head back. At the same time he feels Jim's hand on his crotch.

"Looks like I've found a sensitive spot, huh Jack?"

"There's more than one," Jack replies, strongly suggesting Jim to get to one of them, a hand to the shoulder, hinting Jim to shrink down to the stable floor.

As he does, Jack grabs hold of Jim's shirttails, peeling his tee shirt up and off. "Looks like I'm not the only one, huh?"

While attacking Jack's belt, Jim replies, "Yeah. My nips are like super sensitive."

Staring at each other, Jack's finger hold on Jim's nips increasing the pressure from firm to overbearing. Smiling, Jack knows Jim is in heaven, watching him drop his head back and his voice moaning in pleasure.

"Oh yeah," Jim says when he opens Jack's pants, separates the flaps all the way back so his pants drop off his ass. From the back waist, Jim works Jack's briefs from his torso. Licking his lips signifies his satisfaction of Jack sporting a fully engorged cock.

"No hands boy!" Jack says.

"Cool!" Jim comments when Jack slips into the roleplay.

"And if I feel any teeth boy, I'll be stringing you up to that whipping post!"

For now, Jim covers his teeth with his lips, figuring he'll get his jolt out of sucking and licking Jack's firm tool, baring his teeth when his jaw gets tired!

%

Standing around the espresso machine, Ian and Alex stared, each accusing the other, "How come you don't know how it works?"

Another thought on their minds, how come Jim wasn't at work.

"He's probably recovering," Ian suggests.

"I don't even know what the heck they do," Alex shared knowledge, taking the appliance apart.

"I got an idea!" Ian said. "Why don't you give Phil a call?"

"Why me? How come you can't. You've known him longer," Alex argued.

"I don't get along good with straight guys," Ian replied.

"That's the stoopidest thing I've ever heard, Ian."

Realizing Alex is right, he pleads, "Can you call him?"

Rolling his eyes, Alex says, "Find his number."

"Cool!" Ian said, hurrying off to Bill's office to dig it up. Returning, he told Alex, "The door is locked. Now what do we do?"

"What do you mean the door is locked? I said hello to Bill on my way to the jon this morning," Alex said.

"And," Ian suddenly remembers, "that new dude from the coffee distributors had an appointment with him at nine."

Putting two and two together, Alex and Ian stared at each other, breaking out in a wide grin.

"You don't think..." Ian ventured to voice his thoughts.

Hightailing it from the from the coffee bar to the back of the Coffee Bean, they stopped short a few feet from the door. Ian on the left and Alex to the right, the two leaned in, ears pasted to the wooden door. Facing each other, the two grinned, lifting eyebrows when they heard groaning sounds.

When they both agreed on hearing one of the two moaning like reaching climax, yelling out 'oh fuckin' yeah', Alex whispered to Ian, "I guess that's it!"

Tiptoe-ing away, Ian softly asked, "Who do you think was on the receiving end?"

"For sure that wasn't Bill's voice yelping like a wild hyena in heat!"

Restudying the espresso machine, both waiters made like nothing happened as Bill's office door opened. Alex and Ian again made eye contact overhearing Bill say, "I'll have the contract drawn up right away Mr. Soto."

All the one called 'Soto' said is, "I'll start first delivery tomorrow."

In Alex's mind he was already thinking 'first delivery' was already made. Same time he couldn't help but look up to see Soto make his exit.

He turned around when Soto delivered one of the next to the oldest cliches on record, "We know each other, don't we?"

"Who me?" Ian and Alex both said, Alex knowing it was meant for him, kind of sure Soto picked up on him checking him out.

Going for Alex's hand made the selection between the two, the dark-haired Latino offering, "I'm Jorge Soto. You sure look familiar."

Taking his hand, Alex made introduction saying, "I don't think we've met, but it's nice to meet you now!"

"Yeah," Jorge replied.

"Um, can I have my hand back?" Alex joked.

"Sure. Sorry 'bout that," Jorge said.

"Ahem!" Ian faked the cough, "And I'm Ian. Do you happen to know how an espresso machine works?"

"I better. It's my business!" He cheerfully replied. On purpose he slid past Alex, arm grazing his. "Excuse me there, Alex."

Ian and Alex exchanged glances, Ian sensing the way things going, set Jorge straight, "Um, Alex is already spoken for."

Straightening up from bending over, tinkering with the black and chrome machine, Jorge smiles as he says, "Was I that obvious?"

A question on his mind, one he was sure Ian would like to know, Alex says, "I'll tell if you tell?"

Both Ian and Jorge looked at Alex strangely, Ian asking, "Huh?"

"I'll tell you if you were obvious or not, if you," he poked Jorge in the chest, "were on the giving end or receiving end."

"You heard Bill and I, um...."

Cutting Jorge off, Ian answers, "We did."

It was no big deal receiving an answer from Alex, but thought it kind of erotic of the two listening in on his transactions with Bill. Putting it mildly, Jorge replies, "You boss is one helluva a great cocksucker!"

"It was Bill, huh?" Ian asked. "And all this time we thought he was the big, macho top man!"

"Top?" Jorge acted with surprise, "the man was almost begging to wrap his lips around my cock."

"One more question," Alex confronts Jorge.

"Shoot."

"Did it help sign the deal?"

"You know Alex, even though you're taken and we're really kind of strangers, though I'd still like to get to know you, I'm going to forget you ever asked that!"

There was no nudge this time as Jorge walked around Alex, heading towards the door.

"I'd say he's a little ticked off at you," Ian said, bending over to see the steam rising from the espresso machine.

"More than a little," Alex told Ian, adding, "I'll be right back." Outside the Coffee Bean, Alex looked both ways, but didn't turn up any 'Jorge'. Across the street he spotted him getting into a burgundy PT cruiser. "Damn!" he said to himself. As Jorge was ready to park himself in the seat, he exited his car. Alex followed him all the way up the busy block, about six feet and cross at the tail end of the light, when the red pedestrian flashed on the do not walk light. He could have walked the few feet up the sidewalk to meet Jorge, but then again the view was too much to take his eyes off his subject, watching Jorge dodge between people having conversations all the way back to the Coffee Bean doorway.

"I think I must've dropped my pen," Jorge simply said, turning into the Coffee Bean establishment.

Smiling to himself, Alex figured all along it was Jorge returning to 'him'. He followed him inside, saying, "Here, let me get the door."

"Allow me," Jorge said, already in, holding the door for Alex.

"Thanks," Alex replied, on Jorge's tail. "By the way, I want to apologize for...."

"No problem," Jorge replied as he scoured the floor around the counter which the espresso machine occupied.

"Looking for something?" Alex asked.

His head cruising to the side, Jorge glanced up to see Alex looking down upon him.

"Your pen?" Alex asked, clicking the top in and out rapidly.

"I knew I had it when I left Bill's office," Jorge replied.

"Looks like an expensive pen too," Alex said facetiously as he forked it over to Jorge.

"I buy them wholesale." Knowing where Alex was going with this, his coming back to the Coffee Bean for a business pen costing a measly eight cents, he said, "You can keep it if you want. I hand them out for business." Then hinting, "It's got my number written on the side if you ever need me!"

Silence prevailed as Alex made up his mind to set Jorge straight, "I have a nice boyfriend. We're getting real serious. I'm not about to do anything which would jeopardize our relationship."

"What a waste," Jorge replied, snickering.

"It wouldn't work anyway, being we're both on the same end of the totem pole?"

With tongue in cheek, Alex's reference made Jorge think a moment, then say, "That's one of those Indian things with the geeky looking faces, right?"

"Geeky? I find totem poles rather interesting. You ever see one up close?" Alex replied.

"Not really," Jorge replied. "You?"

"We had one back home. Somebody said it was brought there from someplace out west. Some rich guy thought it would look good in his back yard."

"He steal it?"

Alex replied, "Nah. I think he bought it from some roadside stand. Nobody know for sure whether it was real or not."

"So, where is 'home' for you?"

As Alex explained his origins from the eastern area of Pennsy, Jorge's undivided attentions followed a guy walk in, say 'Hi Alex', then head to the back of the Coffee Bean and disappear.

"Um, Jorge?"

Switching attention back to Alex, he said, "Yeah, you're from Pennsylania. That's nice. Um, he work here?"

Knowing Jorge would find out sooner or later, Alex filled him in, "Derek Estrada. He usually works the same shift as I do, but he's off this weekend and..."

The tearing open of an envelope stopped the conversation. "I can't wait to cash this and head on out to the sunny shores of Jersey!"

"You and Eduardo?" Alex assumed.

Point blank, as Jorge took it all in, Derek replies, "Eduardo and I are like 'history'."

"You broke up?"

"Broke up Alex? We didn't even get together. Everytime I wanted to do something he had to do something for his cousin. If you ask me, he and his cousin had something going." Then on a lighter tone, "Nope. From now on I'm playing the field and not in any hurry to catch any pitches. See ya when I get back all nice and tanned!"

"If you're trying to make me jealous you are!" Alex said as Derek split.

"Um, look. I gotta get going," Jorge immediately said, hustling to get out of the cafe.

"Your pen!"

"Keep it," was the last thing Alex heard.

"What's up Alex? Wasn't Jorge here a few seconds ago?" Ian asked.

"He was."

"Did you see Derek?"

"I saw."

"Alex, what do you know that I don't know?" Ian questions him.

"That one plus one is two?" he replied, clicking the pen rapidly, in and out.

%

2B continued...

Copyright 2008 T. Chase McPhee

This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection without prior written permission, by the author.

The more you stretch, the more you can fit in... 'spread' happiness! TCMcP.....

Next: Chapter 53


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