The faded jean material blurred below the line of the television screen. One arm stretched along the backrest toward his roommate. He drummed his fingers on the cushion. Jagged blond fringe partially obscured his vision as he tried in vain to watch the Minnesota Vikings form an offensive attack against the Dallas Cowboys. It should have been riveting. The Vikings and the Cowboys were football enemies only bested by the rivalry between the Vikings and the Green Bay Packers. It should have been attention consuming, yet all he could think about was his best friend, Martin Petrie. Oblivious to Jay’s rioting anxiety, Martin hooted as the Vikings sacked the quarterback beneath a three-man pile. The only pile Jay could think about involved Martin beneath him. Jay scrubbed a hand over his face with his building frustration. Until a year ago, he’d thought he was bisexual. He’d been fooling himself. Sure, he’d taken girl after girl to moaning ecstasy, but that was for show. It was for the sole purpose of putting Martin off his scent.
