Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 5

returning to hang up his towel. Ben still felt thoroughly rattled by the whole set of events and his face hurt. He wondered what his chances of convincing Ty to stay the night were.
    Tyler sat down beside Ben. "Talk to me."
    "Isn't that usually my line?"
    "Yeah, I guess it is. Still, talk to me."
    "I wish…" Ben hesitated. Ty had obviously been through a lot today too. What right did he have to beg for more?
    "If you're feeling pretty rocky right now, I get it. Most people only get that 'am I gonna die?' moment in the middle of a car accident, rather than from a gun to the head. I am right here. You and I are gonna be attached at the hip for the next couple of days until I'm sure you're going to be okay."
    "You're not going back to your place tonight?" Ben asked slowly.
    "Hell no. There's no way I'm leaving you alone tonight." Ty hugged Ben close. "I outted myself to the whole team and to my amazement, they really don't care much. I got my ass chewed by IA for not following protocol but even they were a lot gentler than they could have been. I got a three day suspension without pay. Like I give a fuck about that at this point. I love you, Ben. I want to come home to you every night."
    THE END
    Author bio: A.R. Moler is a chemistry professor at a community college, a homeschooling mom and an avid science fiction fan. She is a devotee of first hand research for her writing whenever possible and to this end has - learned to fire a handgun, been rappelling, ridden with both EMS and the police, flown a helicopter, bought a motorcycle and learned to ride it. She has travelled to nearly all the places where her stories are set and taken hundreds of photos for documentation. She has been writing since her high school years, but only recently has become published. Her website can be found here.
    Her blog is entitled Playdoh, Legos and Stoichiometry . When asked why such a name for her blog, she commented that it reflects 3 of the many phases of her life. Her daughter is 8 years old and is an avid playdoh artist, her son is 12 and owns enough Legos is fill a 55-gallon drum and the stoichiometry--one of the most challenging topics to many chemistry students. Her husband's only contribution to chemistry is brewing beer.
    ****

IN OVER HIS HEAD
    by Kate Sherwood

    Two young men, naked from the waist up. One sitting on the ground leaning back on his hands with his head turned to the side looking distressed. The second on his knees, leaning over him, kissing his neck, with his hand on the waistband of the other's pants, pulling his clothes down.

    Dear Author,
    I can't believe I did that to him. I can't blame him for being pissed. I fucked up royally. Can you find a way for me to make it up to him? Can he ever forgive me? Can you lead us to a happily ever after?
    Sincerely,
    Melanie

    genre: contemporary
    tags: family drama; college; coming-of-age; established couple; hurt/comfort
    content warnings: some violence; mention of past quasi-abuse
    word count: 15,912
    Back to Table of Contents

    IN OVER HIS HEAD
    by Kate Sherwood
    CHAPTER ONE
    Cade was trying hard to get comfortable, but it wasn't working. At all.
    He couldn't blame it on the car, that was for sure. It was a Mercedes, one of the big sedans that would stand up to a collision with a freight train, and he had the whole luxuriously upholstered back seat to himself.
    And his clothes were comfortable enough. He'd been worried that he'd have to get dressed up, but Aiden had just laughed and pointed to his own jeans and t-shirt. "You'll be fine, Cade," he'd said reassuringly. "It's a cottage. Casual, relaxed… you'll be wearing swim trunks ninety percent of the time." His grin had turned wicked as he'd added, "And the other ten percent, you'll be wearing nothing ."
    It had sounded fine, at the time. But as soon as Cade had seen the car at the airport, he'd started regretting the trip. The car was intimidating, but the woman behind the wheel was even worse. She'd stepped out as soon as she'd caught sight of her son, and her hug for him had seemed warm and genuine. Then a tight smile for Cade, a barely-there acknowledgement that they'd already met several times, and they'd piled into the car and started the last leg of the journey.
    Cade tried to distract himself with the scenery. He'd never been to Canada before. Never been out of the States, in any direction. Hell, he'd barely ever made it out of Chicago until a couple years earlier. But here he was, whisked up to some place