When Rex got back from the bar with Martin’s froufrou drink and his own bottle of beer, he found his friend’s attention fixed on a nearby table.

“Who’s that?” Martin asked with a nudge. He picked up the fruity concoction he’d made Rex order and drank from it using the tiny cocktail straw, being intentionally provocative if Rex were to guess. That was Martin—intentionally provocative—but they weren’t in New York City today. Today they were at the bar closest to Rex’s ranch, and the man Martin was ogling was his nearest neighbor. Continue reading →