Free Eastshore Tigers 01 - Strong Side by Alison Hendricks

rather have someone who loves me; who will take care with me and meet me halfway to give us what we both want.
    It's stupid and sappy, but it is what it is. Unfortunately, I've put myself between a rock and a hard place with this Hawk situation, and right now, an anonymous fuck is just what I need.
    My body's just pissed that I haven't given it any attention in a while. If I can quiet it down, maybe it will stop making me ache for straight guys.
    I swipe through the app, looking at pictures of abs and pecs and almost-dick pics. Nobody actually posts their headshot here. It's like a buffet table where you pick out exactly what you're craving most, no strings attached.
    I already know what I'm craving, and I'm definitely not going to get it. Best to look for a distant second.
    I wish a few of these guys would at least post some pictures of their lips, if not their full faces. It would give me a chance to indulge in fantasy without pushing it too far. But instead I have to settle for body shots, and I try to pick a guy who looks similar to Hawk in physique.
    Athletic body. Defined pecs. Strong arms. Taut stomach. A little dusting of hair. Close enough.
    The guy could have the personality of a brick and it won’t matter. The few times I've hooked up in the past, the bottoms have only had one personality: The desire to be fucked. Right now, that's exactly what I need.
    I send a message and fire off a couple more just to make sure I can line something up. In a college town like this, there are always tons of horny gay guys. I’m bound to find something.
    And then I can finally get Hawk off my mind.
    Of course, it doesn't help when I see his name light up in my notifications. I check my texts and see him ask my help cramming for a psychology test tomorrow once I'm done with my paper.
    Not great timing, but I did make him a promise. I don't want Hawk to fail because I'm having issues. Now that the semester’s started, he’s back in a dorm, so I pack up my shit and head over there, hoping it won’t be weird.
     
     
     
    An hour later, I'm sitting in the one chair he has in his dorm room, his psych book on my lap, trying not to fall asleep.
    I love learning about psychology, but this book is so fucking dry that it's no wonder he's having trouble studying for his test.
    "I'm never gonna get this," he says, and his fingers curl around the edge of the bed. Something I immediately draw my gaze away from before my brain gets any ideas.
    "Probably not from this book."
    I snap it closed and toss it aside. It thuds on the floor, as useless as it was open.
    "Why don’t we try this a different way. You trust me?"
    He gives me a strange look, then nods. For the next hour or so, I pull some analogies out of my ass. It's pretty impressive, if I do say so myself. I speak to him like he's a coach, because I think Hawk would make a pretty damn good coach, and because a lot of what coaches do involves psychology.
    I give him a couple hypothetical problem kids to work with, and apply the theory he's supposed to be learning for tomorrow's test. It takes him a bit of practice, but seeing it laid out like that makes it click for him.
    While he's taking notes, though, my phone chirps. With him occupied, I decide to check it and see a notification from my app.
    One of the guys I messaged has gotten back to me already.
    Flicking my gaze to Hawk, I make sure he's still busy before I open up the message. I don't know why, but I feel a little guilty looking at this here. As if I'm somehow betraying him.
    The text is concise. Dazzle @ 10 tomorrow.
    Dazzle is the stupidest fucking name for a gay bar I've ever heard, but it’s the most popular one in town. And I guess having a name like that keeps the really straight people away.
    I text him back, trying to get some details on what he'll be wearing or what he looks like so I can recognize him and not make an ass of myself. As I'm in the middle of it, though, Hawk's voice interrupts me.
    "Texting your