“Love You So Madly” By Tara Lain
Cover Reveal Blitz
April 30, 2018
Excerpt 1 – Love You So Madly
In the car Dusty said, “Can we listen to that nice music again?”
He’d noticed. “Sure.” Ben flipped on the Chopin.
For a few minutes, they rode in music. Ben cleared his throat. “Dusty, do you mind if I ask how old you are?”
“Oh sure. I’m twenty-three. How old are you?”
Ben almost laughed. As an executive in a top firm, nobody ever asked him that. But turnabout was fair. “I’m twenty-nine.”
“Wow. You’ve done a lot in your life.”
“Thank you.” Ben glanced at Dusty.
“I haven’t been able to do so much, but I’m working at it.”
“That’s what counts. Keep moving toward your dreams.”
“I like that idea a lot.” He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.
“So your dad doesn’t live at home?”
“No. Never has. My mom’s taken good care of me, though.”
“Has she always been a nurse?”
“No. She had to work so hard. She was only sixteen when she had me, but she never gave me up, no matter what anyone said.” He took a deep breath and let it out in a long exhale. “And no matter how hard it was.”
“She sounds amazing.”
“She is.” He looked out the window. “It’s hard for her to, you know, let me do stuff, but she’s the best mom.”
“So you’re not married?” Ben chuckled.
Dusty mirrored the chuckle. “Not yet.”
“Have a girlfriend?” Oh, very subtle, Shane.
“Not yet, huh.”
“Not ever. I’m gay. But I don’t have a boyfriend yet. I’d like to, though.”
Well, okay. Ben swallowed. “You would?”
“Sure, wouldn’t you?”
“I’m, uh, engaged.” Shit. Shit. Shit. When did I decide to become Mr. Purveyor of Truth?
The passenger seat became deeply silent.
Ben glanced over. Dusty’s eyes were closed, and he seemed to be breathing deeply.
“What?” His eyes fluttered open.
“Sorry. Just asking how you’re doing?”
“Good, thanks. Just drop me on the curb over there.” He pointed to one of the entrances to Orange Coast College.
“How will you get back to my place?”
“Bus.” He smiled, but his glance scampered all over the place as he opened the door. “Have a great day.”
Ben couldn’t stop. He put a hand on Dusty’s arm—his sinewy, muscled, hot-as-fuck arm. “Dusty, what’s wrong? Come on, tell me.”
“Nothing, honest. Just sometimes it’s hard not to wish I was somebody else.”