“You’re joking, right?”“No. I’ve been living here for a while—like a couple of years with my roommate. You know, the fucktard who put poor Raphael outside.”“Hey!” the guy yelled from inside their apartment. “I have a name. It’s Señor Fucktard!”

“It was official. I really was Senorita Fucktard.”

“Sorry Raphael. My friends are complete, fucking….” He looked up.I tried to jerk back inside, but it was too late.Cam saw me. “Assholes…” He did a double take. “What the…?”Would dive bombing into my apartment seem weird? Yes—yes it would. So I went with a very lame, “Hey…”

“I’m a shallow, shallow boy. Hey, it helps that you’re pretty. It brings out the nice guy in me. Makes me what to share my cookies with you.”

“While the idea of taking you right now, against the wall, is enough to make me lose control, I want you to know that I’m serious. You’re not a hook up. You’re not a friend with benefits. You’re more than that to me.”I closed my eyes, breathing heavily. “Well, that was…really sort of perfect.”“I’m really sort of perfect … Everyone else knows that. You’re just a little slow on the uptake.”

“I want you. Bad. Right now. Against the wall. On my bed. The floor and maybe in the bathroom later. I have a shower stall and a Jacuzzi we could put to really good use. I know you'd like it.”

“The moment we stepped out into the hall, Cam's apartment door flung open. Ollie appeared, a cellphone in one hand and Raphael wiggling in the other. "Smile!" he shouted as he snapped a picture on his phone. "It's like my two kids are going to prom.”