Dirty Laundry: A Tucker Springs Novel #3

about how frustrating it was to always work late, how even though it was easy, sometimes it was too easy.
    “It used to be fun because it was a great way to get tail,” he said one afternoon as they sat in the truck at the park because it was too cold to get out. He reached over and goosed the side of Adam’s ass he could reach. “Now it just keeps me from the tail I already got.”
    “Do you have to have certification to work at the gym? Could you do something simpler, maybe, in the meantime?”
    Oddly enough, that made Denver blush. “Well, yeah. Tiny keeps asking me too. But if I do that, then I feel like I gotta go take the GED test, and the certification.”
    “So what’s stopping you?”
    It surprised Adam how wooden Denver went. “Me and tests, we don’t do so well.”
    Adam wasn’t sure what to say, but he had to say something. “Usually, with those things, you can find out what will be on it in advance and prep. Even if you did fail it—which I doubt you would—you can take it again, you know.”
    Denver shook his head. “You don’t get it, babe. I ain’t like you. I’ll never have your kind of smarts.”
    “You have plenty of smarts that I’m missing.” Adam nudged Denver with his arm. “Studying is not difficult. It’s not about being smart, not like you’re saying. It’s about knowing how to play the game. I’m good at this game. Really good. I think I’m with studying like you are with weights.” The idea made him sit up straight in the truck. “Ooh! What about that? What if you teach me about weights, and I teach you about studying?”
    He wasn’t sure how Denver would react to it, and at first he thought maybe it had been a mistake. But slowly his boyfriend started to smile, and then he nodded, like he was warming up to some brilliant idea. “Yeah. You know? That might not be a bad idea.”

    It was a great idea, but the arrangement didn’t go as smoothly as either of them would have hoped.
    To start, the gym was really loud and noisy, which didn’t sit well with Adam. He didn’t have a phobia about noisy places or anything, not really, but they didn’t help when he was doing something new or difficult, and his OCD wasn’t ready to go down without a fight. The whole idea of using sweaty weights everyone else had used did not sit well with him. At all.
    “I’m sorry,” he apologized as he failed for the fifth time to pick up a stinky, sweaty weight, his hands shaking, his panic attack sliding gracefully into place.
    “It’s okay,” Denver told him, but he frowned while he said it, and he didn’t offer to take Adam back the next day.
    Studying was just as difficult for Denver. They met at the library, where Adam had found a GED study guide, the very sight of which flipped Denver out so much for a second Adam thought he was going to overturn the table.
    “I can’t do all that! Jesus! Who the hell can learn all that stuff?”
    Adam glanced down at the requirements, which he’d thought were pretty meager, actually. “We can break it down, though. One little piece at a time.”
    He did, too. He made up charts and bullet points and presented what he thought was a nice and tidy organizational study strategy. Denver sat down, gripped the paper tightly in his meaty hands, and promptly wadded it into a ball.
    “Forget it. This was a stupid idea, and it isn’t ever going to work,” Denver declared—and he stormed out.
    Adam, naturally, panicked. Normally, Denver would have sent a text, or actually, not stormed out at all, but this was his anxiety, so he didn’t. Adam tried to compose several different consoling messages, but they all seemed lame, so he caved and didn’t send any. He felt like a failure.
    Denver did text, finally, though he didn’t bring up the library. I’m going to swing by your house at seven. Wear something you can get a little sweaty in.
    Sweaty? Oh God, they were going to try the gym again. Adam was trying to figure out how to say this wasn’t a good idea when Denver texted again.
    Trust me.
    Adam took a deep breath. Okay .
    It didn’t mean he wasn’t a bag of cats inside when Denver showed up at his apartment complex, but he did as he was told and wore gym clothes. He’d also taken a Xanax.
    “Looking good,” Denver said as Adam climbed into the truck.
    Adam smiled loopily.
    He had himself all ready for the gym, which was why when Denver drove totally the wrong way and into a residential neighborhood, Adam could only frown. When