Chapter 58

Alan gathers up the clothes as he comes to them—cardigan, T-shirt, the corduroys with legs splayed in either direction like a gymnast doing the splits. He tucks everything into the crook of his arm as he goes. The shoes he gathers together and leaves neatly placed outside the bathroom door. Then he scoops up a pair of balled up socks and, last, a pair of black Calvin Klein briefs.

These last he holds out in front of him, a finger hooked into either side of the waistband. With his foot, he nudges open the partially-shut door to his bedroom and holds up the briefs as he enters.

“What happened to your tighty-whities?” Alan asks.

Jim is on the bed, lying back and propped up on his elbows so the toned length of his nude body stretches out like an invitation. His hard cock juts up from the dark hair curled at his crotch, and Alan’s gaze is drawn to it like a magnet. It takes real effort to stop staring at it and look Jim in the face instead.