Chapter Two

K erry's fingers tightened reflexively around the envelope, even as his brain tried to reject what was happening. The knot of dread festering in his gut for the past twenty months ruptured and sent poisonous bile spreading throughout his body. The urge to vomit overwhelmed him, but he kept his shit together. Kerry had mentally braced himself for the possibility of a lawsuit ever since Keith Bozeman's botched rescue attempt, but did it have to happen on the anniversary of his dad's death?

"Kerry." Keegan's tentative voice teased his ears seconds before a gentle touch landed on his shoulder.

The comforting gesture only amplified the tension gripping Kerry's body and reminded him of the mistake he'd nearly made. Kerry had been seconds away from kissing Keegan in the middle of the dance floor before the process server interrupted them. He glanced up from the envelope to see the man had already disappeared into the crowd, as if the dancers had swallowed him whole. Could they do the same for him?

Life had really fucked him over lately, and the bastard hadn't bothered to use lube. Kerry had only wanted to let off steam, forget his troubles, and hide from his sorrow. He'd planned to hook up with a guy who looked nothing like the one taking up too many of his thoughts. Keegan's remarks about infiltrating Kerry's life and his accusations of avoidance had landed too close for comfort. Admitting the truth would've hurt Keegan, and Kerry would rather let someone saw off his dick with a rusty, dull knife than hurt a person who'd become dear to him. So Kerry had settled for a half-truth he'd been willing to share. Keegan bothered him, just not in a way either of them were ready to handle. Even that had blown up in his face when their conversation veered into a territory that scraped his nerves raw and resulted in a near kiss.

"What the hell was that?" Sven asked angrily, pointing at the envelope.

"Whoa!" Keegan said. "How'd you get here so fast?"

"I saw that weirdo making his way toward you guys," Sven said. "One minute, he was striding purposefully through the bar as he searched the crowd, and the next, he was faking intoxication as he staggered toward you guys on the dance floor. I saw he had something in his hand, but I couldn't see what it was. I was out of my chair and halfway to you when the guy bumped into Kerry and handed him the envelope. Thank goodness the guy wasn't holding a weapon."

Kerry sighed and pulled away from Keegan's touch before he leaned into it. "This might be just as deadly," he groused. Kerry would survive a lawsuit, but Hart's Creek Rescue might not, and the business meant everything to him.

"Fucking Chuck," Sven snarled.

Just hearing his former employee's name was enough to make Kerry seethe with anger. He'd purchased the rescue business from Benny Johnson, a longtime family friend, after working for the man for fifteen years. Benny had hired Kerry after he graduated high school and taught him everything he'd learned about the business. Kerry had worked his way up the ranks, getting promotions over guys who'd been there longer, which had ruffled a lot of feathers. The resentment had only grown when Benny chose Kerry to be his successor over Chuck Dahl, a hotheaded know-it-all who'd had a decade of seniority over Kerry. The curmudgeon liked to blab around town that Benny only chose Kerry because of his wealthy connections and easy access to the funds to buy the business. It was complete bullshit. The mountainside town and the surrounding county were named after his ancestor, but the bankers who approved his loan hadn't given a shit about that. They'd only cared about assets, credit scores, and the business plan to pay back the loan.

Kerry had kept Chuck on the crew after Benny's retirement, and the older man made him regret his kindness until the day Kerry had no choice but to fire him. Chuck had been surly and insubordinate on a good day and negligent and reckless on a bad one. And on the very worst day, all his negative personality traits had linked up to create a tsunami of suck, where Chuck the Fuck turned Keith Bozeman's routine vehicle crash rescue into a near catastrophe. Kerry thought he'd exercised perfect control afterward when he calmly told Chuck the Fuck to take a hike and never darken his doorstep again. He wished he could say that was the end of the saga, but the legal document in his hands said otherwise.

"Dad warned you this might happen, Ker Bear. Everything is going to work out just fine."

"Who's Chuck?" Keegan asked. "And what just happened?" Confusion pitched his voice higher, and Kerry knew he'd see worry brimming in Keegan's expressive hazel eyes if he turned and met his gaze. So he took a step away from temptation and then another until he was heading toward the door. The air in the room suddenly felt too thick to breathe, and his head throbbed in time with the music.

"Ker," Sven called out.

Kerry held up a hand, hoping it would stop Keegan and Sven from following, but he should've known better. He heard the murmur of their voices close behind him but couldn't make out the individual words. He suspected Sven was explaining the situation with Chuck the Cluster Fuck to Keegan, which was good since Kerry's brain cells were too scattered to form coherent words. Once he stepped outside the bar, Kerry halted his hasty escape, tilted his head back, and sucked in a lungful of crisp air, clearing his brain fog so he could focus better. Another deep breath and the throbbing in his temples eased. Stars twinkled like diamonds in the black velvet sky. The bone-rattling bass inside the bar became a mildly annoying background noise. Kerry ignored it along with the whispered exchange happening behind him and cycled through a few more breaths. Sven was right. Kerry had planned for this eventuality when it became clear that Bozeman hadn't accepted the insurance company's proposed settlements. Kerry's stepdad, Steven, was related to Vincent Marino, one of the most successful lawyers in Colorado. Steven received an endless amount of razzing from the family for having a cousin named Vinny, who was also an attorney. The family looked for any excuse to quote My Cousin Vinny. Maybe Kerry hadn't found himself in a backwoods town facing a potential death penalty, but that didn't ease the heaviness in his chest. He'd need his Vinny to pull out all the stops to clear his name too.

"And tonight of all nights," Sven said.

"What's significant about tonight?" Keegan asked.

Kerry wasn't going to talk about his father's death, and Sven would keep his mouth shut if he knew what was good for him. He turned and faced his stepbrother with a raised brow. "You're the only one I told about my plans tonight."

Sven gasped at the insinuation. "I'm appalled you could even think I'd betray you like that."

Keegan put both hands on his hips and turned to square off against Sven. "You told me Kerry was tending bar tonight."

Sven bit his bottom lip to fend off the sheepish smile forming, then arranged his features in a serene expression. "Did I? I must've gotten Kerry's schedule confused."

The showdown between friends promised to be an adorable diversion from his legal troubles and other woes, but Kerry couldn't afford to get distracted. "Hey," he said, pulling their focus to him. "I know damn well you wouldn't betray me like that, Sven. The process server probably followed me here." Kerry had just wanted to get even with him for meddling with his Friday plans. He knew damn well his brother would talk his way out of the corner he'd painted himself into, and Kerry didn't need to stick around to see it. "Which one of you is driving?"

Keegan raised his hand. "I am."

"Good." Kerry wouldn't have to worry about them getting home safely after Sven sucked down that massive cocktail. The bartenders at the Thirsty Cowboy loved Sven and used a heavy hand when mixing his drinks. Kerry turned his gaze to Keegan. The play of moonlight and shadows turned his handsome face into a work of art, accentuating his sharp cheekbones and full mouth. Hazel eyes shimmered with an emotion Kerry struggled to name, something melancholy that tugged at Kerry's heartstrings. "I don't say things unless I mean them, Kee. Don't hide from me."

Keegan swallowed hard and nodded.

Kerry released a soft growl and pulled the man into his arms for a hug. He pressed a soft kiss to Keegan's temple, then moved his mouth to Keegan's ear. "There's a lot more I want to say, but now isn't the time. Maybe we can chat tomorrow night."

Keegan tilted his head back to make eye contact. "I'd like that."

Kerry knew he should release the guy and step back, but he couldn't seem to resist the warmth radiating from both Keegan's body and gaze. "Maybe when Sven isn't around to cause trouble."

Keegan tensed in his embrace, and his expression cooled slightly. Kerry regretted ruining the moment by bringing up Sven's meddling. Then Keegan stepped back, forcing Kerry to lower his arms. Keegan turned to face Sven, giving Kerry his profile, but his irritation was still evident with the limited view. Kerry didn't know Keegan's full lips could form such a thin line. Kee's brow furrowed in what Kerry knew would be a deep V of disappointment. Sven widened his eyes with his trademarked mock innocence but still took a step back from potential danger. "I think you owe us an apology." Before Sven could play dumb, Keegan laid it all out for him. "You lied to me and manipulated Kerry into dancing with me."

Sven recovered quickly. "I didn't lie to you, Kee. I told you I suspected Kerry would end up tending bar." Sven aimed a pointed look at Kerry. "How many times have you pledged a night to yourself only to end up behind the bar at the Feisty Bull?"

Too many to count. He puffed out his cheeks and exhaled slowly. Sven had him dead to rights, but Kerry wasn't in a magnanimous mood to save his ass. "A few times."

"Ha!" Sven scoffed. "I'll let you have that one, even though we both know better."

"I don't think you can say you're showing me grace only to call bullshit in the next breath," Kerry replied. Yeah, he needed to make phone calls and get his legal shit sorted, but it was Friday night, and he wouldn't reach out to Vinny until a reasonable hour the next morning. He could afford to engage in verbal fencing with Sven and soak up a few more minutes of Keegan's warmth.

"Whatever," Sven said, waving off his objection with a flick of his wrist. "Now I have to address the second part of Keegan's claim." Sven pointed a long, elegant finger in Kerry's direction. "No one, and I mean not even divine intervention, gets this jackass to do a damn thing he doesn't want to do."

"Are you insulting my intelligence or comparing me to a male donkey?" Kerry asked.

"You are as stubborn as a mule," Sven replied. "A male mule is a jackass."

"Fair point." Kerry wouldn't bother to deny it.

"So, you agree that nothing I said or did convinced you to ask Keegan to dance with you," Sven said.

"He asked me to dance so we could talk away from you," Keegan insisted.

There was no way Kerry could let him go on believing that. "Nope." Sven and Keegan looked at him. The former smirked because he knew he was right. The latter wore a look of utter disbelief, and Kerry couldn't abide Keegan's self-doubt. "That was the excuse I gave because I wanted to dance with you again, Kee." A big part of him wanted to take the younger man by the hand and lead him back inside the bar to dance some more, which was why he took a few steps backward. Legal troubles were one thing, but matters of the heart were a completely different problem. "I say what I mean," he reminded Keegan. "You guys be careful going home," he said before turning and heading to his truck.

Once inside, Kerry tossed the envelope onto the passenger seat without reading it. He'd have time to obsess over every word later. Kerry checked the time and knew his stepfather would still be awake but didn't place the call until Sven and Keegan made it to their vehicle without incident. He started his truck engine and followed them out of the parking lot, then used his voice command feature to call Steven.

His stepfather answered on the second ring. "Is something wrong, Ker?" Steven's steady voice was like a balm for Kerry's shredded nerves. They'd had a rough time adapting to each other in the beginning, but Steven had won him over with unwavering patience, unshakable support, and unrivaled devotion to Kerry's mom. His gratitude for Steven's presence—then and now—choked him up a little, and he had to clear his throat before speaking.

"Just a court processor serving me legal papers at the local gay bar," Kerry said, leaving out the part where he'd been dancing with Keegan. His mother was the president of the Keegan Scott is Perfect for My Son Club, and he'd bet money that Sven phoned Lucinda as soon as Kerry was out of earshot. They would be insufferable after this.

"What?" Steven's outrage was probably more about the time Kerry got served than where it had occurred. He was a card-carrying PFLAG member before Kerry officially came out, thanks to Steven Edward Ruehl Jr., dubbed Sven by a young second cousin who couldn't pronounce his name. His brother likely came out of the womb waving a rainbow flag, and Steven knew both his sons hung out at the Thirsty Cowboy. He preached safety, not censure. "I'm not saying that process servers don't have to get creative because some people are more slippery than others. But you have a business where you maintain regular hours, and you own a home. There's nothing elusive about you. The time and place of your serving feels very personal."

"My sexuality isn't a secret, and I used to be a frequent bar patron." Sven's comment replayed in his mind. Kerry had been noticeably absent from the bar for months. Nearly eighteen of them. He'd returned to the Thirsty Cowboy a few times since his first dance with Keegan, but he always left alone and unsatisfied. He'd only recently acknowledged to himself why hookups with random strangers no longer held appeal, and that was the change in demeanor Keegan had picked up on and misread. "And nobody has given me shit about being gay once I outgrew them." At least not to his face.

"It still feels like a personal dig," Steven said. "And that pisses me off almost as much as this lawsuit Chuck backed you into with his stupidity. What does the document claim?"

"I haven't opened the envelope yet."

"It's most likely a copy of the complaint and a summons that gives you the deadline to respond," Steven said. "Come over for breakfast in the morning. We can retreat to my home office afterward to review the document and call Vinny. The court will have allowed time for you to hire legal counsel, so there's no need to call him tonight."

"Sounds good to me." Though Kerry could think of better ways to bond with his stepfather.

Keegan turned right at a four-way intersection that would take him toward the town where Sven lived. Kerry's mountainside cabin was in the opposite direction, but he was tempted to follow Keegan to make sure they both got home safely. He signaled left but didn't make the turn until Keegan's taillights faded from view.

"Something just occurred to me," Steven said abruptly. "Why the hell didn't I think about it sooner?" Kerry knew his stepfather hadn't posed the question to him, so he waited for Steven to continue. "We should've called in your buddy Dominic. He's still a private detective, right?"

Kerry and Dominic Babb had been best friends since second grade when Dom's family moved to the area. They'd stayed tight, even though their busy lives pulled them in opposite directions as adults. "Yeah. He's moved back to the area. We keep talking about getting together, but it seems like he's always working on a case. He had a thriving agency in Denver and is trying to make a name for himself in Colorado Springs." The two cities were close geographically, but Dom told him the geopolitical climates put them in different galaxies. Kerry would have to take his word for it because he'd only lived in Hart's Creek. "Do you think I should call Dom and tell him what's going on?"

"Absolutely," Steven said. "The plaintiff might've had a general timeframe of when you'd get served, but it's unlikely he knew specific dates and times. It's possible he's living up a last hoorah before he's required to act beaten and broken for the court's sake." While it was true Chuck had exhibited a horrible lack of judgment at the crash site, Keith Bozeman had miraculously escaped serious injuries. Steven's remark sounded cynical, but spending three decades as a lawyer probably had that effect on a person.

"I'll call Dom in the morning."

"Call him now," Steven insisted. "There's no time to lose. Even if Bozeman knows you're getting served tonight, he won't expect you to take immediate action." Steven swore a blue streak. "I just realized what date it is. Kerry, I'm so sorry."

Kerry sighed heavily. "Me too," he said. "It's probably just a really shitty coincidence I got served on this anniversary, but it sucks. I'll call Dom as soon as we hang up."

"I'll let you get to it, then. Does eight o'clock work for breakfast?"

"Sounds perfect. See you then." Kerry said goodbye, then disconnected the call with a button on his steering wheel. He expected to get Dom's voicemail, but his friend answered on the second ring.

"Must be slim pickings at the Thirsty Cowboy if you're calling me at ten o'clock on a Friday night." Dom's lazy drawl made Kerry smile despite the turmoil filling his brain like fog again.

He lowered his window a few inches, hoping the fresh air would work its magic again. "Why does everyone assume I'm getting laid on a Friday night?" When he wasn't responding to emergency calls, Kerry spent most of his free time tending bar. Sure, the patrons flirted and slipped him their numbers, but he'd stopped taking them up on their offers months ago. Eighteen of them, to be exact. The brain fog lifted enough for him to picture shimmering hazel eyes in the moonlight. Christ. Kerry closed his window because pining for Keegan wasn't the clarity the moment called for.

"If you're breathing, some guy is trying to ride your dick," Dom said. And it had been that simple once, so why wasn't Kerry eager to get back to his old habits? "And to be frank," Dom continued, "there would be plenty of guys who'd totally go Weekend at Bernie's on you."

Kerry laughed at both the reference and the memory of watching the movie with Dom when they were teens. Dom had been delighted to think they'd take stiff dicks to the afterlife with them. The idea of someone riding his corpse's cock made Kerry shudder. "Fucking gross, dude."

"Sorry," Dom replied. "I'm just trying to stay awake on my current stakeout. A woman thinks her husband is cheating on her. I've been following this boring bastard for a few nights, and the only thing he's straying on is his wife's strict diet."

"Or he's picked up your tail," Kerry teased.

Dom snorted. "As if. No one sees me unless I want them to." Which was pretty impressive considering his size. He was only a few inches shorter than Kerry but just as broad. "Plus, I see the look of pure bliss when the guy bites into junk food. Pretty sure he just came in his pants at this Taco Bell. He ordered two large packs of those Cinnabon delights, and he's mowing through them. I think he's on number twenty out of twenty-four."

Kerry's stomach growled. "I could go for some of those about now." He'd tried to eat dinner before heading to the Thirsty Cowboy, but nothing sounded good. Suddenly, cinnamon sugar-coated donut holes stuffed with a gooey cream cheese icing center sounded amazing. Sharing them in bed with—

"Nope. Not going there." Kerry didn't realize he'd said the last part out loud until his friend chuckled.

"Didn't invite you, buddy." Dom yawned, and leather creaked on the other end of the connection. Kerry pictured Dom stretching in the nondescript minivan he used for stakeouts. "So, why are you calling me on a Friday night when you should be balls-deep into a firm, willing ass?"

Kerry locked his brain before any tempting images could form. "I need to hire you to investigate someone for me. It's really important, Dom."

"Are you home now?" Dom's voice shifted from a teasing best friend to a serious investigator in a heartbeat.

"Not for another fifteen minutes."

A persistent dinging came through the connection, followed by the familiar sound of an engine turning over. "I'm about ten minutes behind you."

"Don't you want to know what the investigation is about?" Kerry asked.

"You said you needed me, so I'm coming. I'll get the details when I arrive."

Kerry's throat tightened with emotion again, so his voice came out gruff when he spoke. "I don't expect you to bail on your case, Dom. I'm having breakfast at eight with Steven. You could—"

"Shut up," Dom growled. "You've never asked me for a fucking thing as long as I've known you." That couldn't be true. "Besides, we're long overdue to share a few beers and catch up. Tell your attack panther to behave."

Kerry snorted. Betty wasn't a panther, nor was she vicious. She was a calico-colored Maine coon cat, whose enormous size and panther-like prowess intimidated most people. Dom was all bluster now, but Betty would melt him into a puddle of goo when she curled up in his lap and purred loud enough to rattle the rafters. He would scratch her ears and coo to her within minutes of his arrival. "See you soon."

Kerry kept his window down for the duration of his drive home. The combination of road noise and cool air kept his mind from wandering back to the near kiss with Keegan. There would come a time later when Kerry could let his imagination and what-ifs run wild, but he needed to focus on saving his business. Betty met him at the front door. She stood on her hind legs and put her front paws on his abdomen, stretching to show her sleek magnificence. Betty's copper eyes perfectly matched the dark orange patches of fur that stood out in stark contrast to the black-and-white coat. If Kerry didn't know better, he'd think Betty's narrow-eyed gaze was a sign of judgment or disappointment. She was one hell of a hunter and never failed to capture her prey, and here Kerry had struck out again. He scoffed at his own ridiculousness. It wasn't like he brought his hookups home to meet his cat, which meant he'd projected his morose attitude onto his sweet lady.

Kerry gave her ears a vigorous scratching before moving farther into his house. He gazed around the two-story log cabin to make sure his home was at least presentable. No one would accuse him of being a slob, but the place could use some tidying up. With everything going on lately, cleaning had been the last thing on his mind. Kerry loaded the dirty dishes into the dishwasher and sorted through the mail and a little clutter on his countertops before wiping them down. He moved into the living room to straighten up the coffee and end tables and run his handheld vacuum over the leather furniture to remove cat hair. Betty sat on the throw blanket draped over the sofa and licked her crotch while monitoring him with his noise maker. The doorbell rang, and Kerry turned off the mini vacuum and headed toward the front door.

Dom stood on his porch with takeout from Taco Bell and a battered messenger bag slung over his shoulder. "Don't shoot, man," Dom said when he saw the vacuum in Kerry's hand. "I come bearing gifts. I heard the lust in your voice when you heard about the guy eating at Taco Bell. Some things never change." Dom gestured to the vacuum in Kerry's hand. "But some do."

"Get in here, fool."

Dom stepped into the house, and Kerry shut the front door behind him. They headed into the kitchen with Betty fast on their heels. Kerry returned the handheld vacuum to its charger and grabbed two beers from the refrigerator. Dom set the food and laptop bag on the table before pulling Kerry into a bear hug.

"It's been too long," Kerry told him when they pulled back.

"That it has," Dom said as he unpacked the bag of food. "I grabbed a little of everything because you sounded half-starved on the phone, and the smells coming from the place made my mouth water."

Kerry's stomach growled on cue, making Dom laugh. A white paw snuck up from under the table as Betty tried to snag some of their food. "I don't think so," Kerry said. He reached down and pulled her out from under the table. "You either behave, or I'll shut you in the laundry room."

Dom reached forward and let her sniff his fingers before moving in to scratch her ears. Betty fired up her engine and purred loudly. "If I could be sure I'd get a cat as perfect as you, I'd adopt one in a heartbeat. My ex is allergic to anything with fur, feathers, or scales, so pets were off-limits."

Dom had said little about his divorce, and Kerry hadn't pushed, though he was dying to know what happened there. Kerry had made it clear he was ready to listen anytime Dom wanted to talk and had left it at that. This was the first time Dom had mentioned his ex since he moved back to town, and Kerry took it as a good sign that he barely detected venom in Dom's voice.

Kerry gently turned Betty's head so he could look into her eyes once Dom returned his attention to sorting the food. "Can I trust you or not?" Betty narrowed her eyes as if she were on the verge of opening a can of whoop ass on him, so he released her. She huffed away from the table, leaped onto the back of the couch again, and resumed bathing her privates.

They dropped into chairs and attacked the food as if they hadn't eaten in weeks, so several minutes passed before either of them spoke again. Kerry settled back in his chair and sipped his beer as Dom pulled his laptop from his messenger bag.

"So, who do you need me to investigate?"

"Keith Bozeman," Kerry replied. "He's suing me for a botched rescue."

Dom's fingers flew over the keyboard as he typed. "What happened?"

"Do you remember me talking about Chuck Dahl?" Kerry asked.

Dom's fingers stilled, and he looked up. "Not that fuck again."

"Afraid so. Bozeman had lost control of his car and driven over the side of a ravine. I'd already answered a call and was in the field, so Chuck responded to Bozeman's accident. He'd radioed me with an update of the situation, and I'd instructed him to get the driver to safety first and then retrieve the vehicle."

Dom resumed typing. "That sounded like the sensible thing to do, but I take it Chuck disobeyed orders?"

"The idiot thought it would be working smarter to pull the car up the side of the hill with the crash victim inside it."

"Yikes," Dom said with a grimace.

"Yeah," Kerry agreed. "Dozens of things could go wrong in that scenario, but you only need one to cause a major clusterfuck. The crew shimmied down the hill and hooked the cables to the car. Chuck fired up the winch and started hauling it up the hillside. About halfway up, the rigging failed, and the car plummeted back down the ravine."

Dom flinched and sucked air through his teeth. "Oh damn."

"Uh-huh." Kerry tipped his bottle back but noticed it was empty. Dom hadn't even touched his beer yet. "You going to drink that?"

Dom stopped typing long enough to scoot the bottle toward Kerry. "You drink it. I'm on a case." He resumed typing for a few more minutes, then turned his laptop around to show Kerry a picture of a middle-aged man with dull blue eyes and thin dark hair with a receding hairline. His expression was pure annoyance as he stared at the camera. Must've been a long wait to get his driver's license renewed that day. "This Keith Bozeman?"

"Yep."

Dom pushed back his chair and stood up. "Let me see what I can find out."

Kerry stood too. "Right now?"

"Mr. Bozeman probably isn't aware you got served tonight. I want to see how he lives before and after he knows. I'd bet money he's desperate to live it up one last time."

"You sound as cynical as Steven."

Dom stowed his laptop in his messenger bag and zipped it before meeting Kerry's gaze. "You know firsthand how deceiving and manipulative people can be."

Kerry thought of Cynthia's betrayal and how scared his sister must've been in the last moments of her life. He fought back the rising bile in his throat. Thoughts of losing Natalie naturally led to the tragedy that followed. Kerry recalled the way his dad disappeared into himself, dying a little more each day until his broken heart gave out. He didn't want to go down that road either, so he pushed the pain away and latched onto the memory of Keegan's gorgeous face bathed in the moonlight. His silver lining. His horny little lamb.

"Whoa," Dom said, snapping Kerry back to reality. "Who are you thinking about right now?"

Kerry shook his head vigorously. "It's nothing. Just thinking about those Cinnabon Delights."

Dom chuckled. "Well, I'll leave you alone with them. Dim the lights and enjoy." He hooked an arm around Kerry's neck and hugged him again. "I'll be in touch soon."

"Thanks for dinner, Dom."

His friend waved as he headed to the door. He paused at the sofa to give Betty some love before heading out into the night. As tempting as the donut holes were, Kerry put them in the microwave for later. He needed to let off some steam, unwind before bed, and he really wanted to let his imagination and what-ifs run wild, preferably with his hand wrapped around his dick.