K.A.’s a little busy with deadlines so she asked if I would fill in. Trust me. You don't want her here. She's a little cranky right now. My name is Daniel Gardner, a character unlucky enough to be found in her head--and her current WIP. Wait a minute, considering the hot sex I’ve been having, maybe not completely unlucky.
But while I have your ear, just let me tell you what she did to me. If there is one thing I hate doing, it’s going home to Easton, PA. Everyone there still treats me like the four-eyed, braces-wearing geek I was back in high school. So what does K.A. do? She drops me in Easton for a month—an entire month. Just because my mother guilted me into closing up the house for her while she looks for a condo in Harrisburg.
I like my life in D.C. just fine, thank you. I have a great job I love and an offer for a better one. I have a boyfriend. Well, I did until he started making things awkward by suggesting we buy a house together. I wasn’t expecting that. Maybe I did want some time to think. About the job. About Scott. But a month in Easton? What the hell did I do to her to deserve this?
But—as any late-night TV ad can tell you—wait, there’s more. Two nights after I get there, someone breaks into the house. Who shows up when we call the police? Trey Eriksson. The guy who swore he wasn’t gay even after we both figured out at seventeen that frottage was a lot more fun to do than it is to pronounce. What kind of guy could deny he’s gay when he just got off rubbing on another guy’s dick? Guess. Go on. I’ll wait.
Yeah, so I open the door to a big dose of Trey. Thanks, again, K.A. Because Trey isn’t something you can ignore once he’s there. It’s like when there’s a big snowstorm and even though you’re not a kid anymore, you still get that whole rush of excitement: no school, snowball fights, sledding, hot chocolate. And in the morning you’re shoveling out your car, freezing cold and wet and late for work. Trey is that blue and white band of precipitation heading your way on The Weather Channel. Must be his Viking roots. I won’t say I haven’t thought about how much fun walking through a winter wonderland can be, but this time I know better than to expect anything but frostbite when it’s over.
Not that he can see past what happened before either. And I’m not just talking about our screwed up personal history. Trey’s got a hell of a lot more reasons to have put Easton permanently in his rearview mirror than even I did. But instead of doing what a sensible person would do i.e. get as far away as possible, he stayed.
So he’s here and I’m here and K.A. seems to think that I can help Trey finally put the past behind him. And I will. Despite what my family thinks, I am actually a trained federal agent. I can analyze a case and solve one, even if I do most of my work at a desk these days. So I’ll help him, whether he wants it or not. He didn’t—doesn’t—deserve to go through life with that weighing on his shoulders. But once that’s done, I’m out of here. You got that, K.A.? Are we clear on this?