Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Mike smirked. He had a feeling Wood was going to need a lesson in respecting his elders.
Chapter Six
Rayne
The next week, Rayne sat in the back of the HRT bus, reading his fundamentals of yoga book on his way to a meeting in Virginia Beach. He was trying and failing not to inhale the raunchy smell of exhaust and body odor. Ever since he’d had those few minutes alone with Mike when he’d come to repair the bathroom, he’d been in a constant state of ache. But it was more than just below his belt, though that was a major one; it was also higher up in his chest. Rayne chewed on his bottom lip, his reading on mountain poses long forgotten as he remembered how Mike had spoken to Wood, how he’d glared at him in warning with those dark eyes. It was the way the man carried himself, no-nonsense and so damn serious. Rayne discovered it was the biggest turn-on that he never knew he liked. He thought he preferred his men weak and gullible, ones he could manipulate, but he was wrong. Even if Rayne wanted to pull one of his cons on Mike, he wouldn’t be able to because he was too street-smart, too worldly. He knew about hustling and doing what was necessary to survive, just like him. That’s what Rayne liked. Not the bourgeois, highfalutin, seven-figure-income-making chumps that he’d suckered in his past.
His recovery would be ongoing until he found himself. Until he found truthfulness and commitment with another person, he’d forever be repairing the wreck he’d made of his life. Rayne believed he was closer to figuring out who he was and what he wanted. He just hoped when he did, those wants wouldn’t be off-limits or out of reach.
Rayne was almost to his stop on Lynnhaven Parkway, and the dark rain clouds covering the sky and dimming the brilliant morning sun were beginning to make him nervous. When he’d walked out of the trailer in Norfolk, the sky had fooled him into thinking it would be a gorgeous day. Now, not only did he not have an umbrella, but he didn’t have his Moncler raincoat either. Rayne released a quiet sigh. He longed to get the rest of his possessions from his uncle’s house, but they were being held hostage until he paid the rent he owed before he was kicked out. Another issue for him to have to figure out soon.
Rayne watched the city go by in a blur, wondering where certain people were walking to, what they were thinking about, if they were happy or upset. It was a strange comfort to hope there was at least one person out there with just as much heartache as him. No one liked to suffer by themself. While he wouldn’t wish his disease on his worst enemy, Rayne didn’t want to be alone in this anymore.
He walked the short distance to St. Paul’s Presbyterian, already loving its grandiose architecture and the colorful, stained-glass windows. This church had to be even older than the one on the oceanfront. He ignored the few leers he got from the stragglers loitering outside the front door, getting in their last-minute drags off their cigarettes and vape sticks before it was time for the meeting to start.
Once inside, the familiar scents of wood oil coating the pews and musty carpet hit him as he followed the signs that pointed to the room where the meeting would be held. It was similar to most meeting spaces he’d been to, an open room with at least thirty chairs arranged in a wide circle. Dang, this must be a big group. It was pretty full as people sat around with hors d’oeuvres plates in their laps while talking quietly with the person closest to them. Rayne went to the buffet table in the corner that was laden with trays of finger foods, coffee with flavored creamers, and sodas. They had two kinds of pinwheel wraps, pastries, a variety of cookies, and a large assortment of cheeses and veggies that sat in the center. Man, this place is fancy. Rayne didn’t hesitate to make himself a nice plate and hurried to find an empty chair.
He didn’t like to socialize much at the meetings, but he still got what he needed out of them. He typically went to St. Mary’s Methodist, but after the tough week he’d had, his sponsor had recommended he try this group also. Supposedly, it was more popular with younger people, and the attendance was about eighty-five percent female, which would serve Rayne well. There was nothing harder than sitting beside a hot guy while he talked about his obsession with jerking off his nine-inch cock. Almost as hard as sitting across from a sixty-year-old gay man who was still practicing abstinence after ten years because no one wanted to commit to him without sampling the goods first. Rayne preferred to leave the meetings feeling hopeful, not more discouraged.