Mac and Dusty Diaries: Part 4

DUSTY:

Been a few days. I just sort of invited myself over. He was fixing the porch – shirt all off and sweat just gleaming. God, that is so going to give me fantasies for months. I wanted to touch him. Just reach over and lick him. He looked all hot and my hands were suddenly cool. I wanted to warm them on his skin. My lips swelled just thinking of where I wanted my mouth. Better than anything else. I bet he tastes good. He invited me in for lemonade. Or rather, I invited myself, he just suggested the lemonade. I tried to feel him out (and up!) but he wasn’t giving me anything. I did think that I saw him looking a couple of times so I made sure he had something to look at. Mischievous, me. I asked him to go out with me. He thinks it’s not a date but I disagree. No surprise there.

Mac and Dusty Diaries: Part 3

MAC:

He talked to me today. I completely shut down. Didn’t know what to do with that. I mean…yeah. So. This is me…speechless.
He looks hot in blue. Or anything. Or nothing. Not that I’d know.

Mac and Dusty Diaries: Part 2

DUSTY:

Math sucks. It just really, really does. I would be more than happy if I never saw another number in my life. However, math has led me to one of the greatest discoveries of my life.
His name is Mac (really it’s Devlin McLain, but…) and he’s all tall, dark and handsome. He’s got these piercings all over his face (makes me wonder what else he has pierced) but he’s also got this…I guess you’d call it an aura, surrounding him. Magnetite. Dark and magnetic. Irresistible. He reminds me of magnetite.
I tried to talk to him today. He was all rude and condescending. Prickly on the outside. But I get the feeling that under that thorny exterior is something totally worth braving it for. (Plus his exterior is unbelievably hot.) I couldn’t stop staring.

Mac and Dusty Diaries

MAC:

So I was just working, dealing with some old hag who couldn’t get it through her thick skull that this isn’t a library and she can’t just borrow the stupid books, when I look up and see the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen just staring right at me. First I’m thinking maybe I’ve got leftover enchiladas pasted on my shirt, but no. Then I remembered that I’m all gothic boy, ‘cuz sometimes I forget. But pretty boy isn’t staring like I’m a freak, he’s staring like he’s trying to see right through me. His eyes are gray-green and so intense it burns. I feel like he’s just melted all my clothes off and spread me naked. It is surreal. I don’t know if I like it but it makes me burn. Literally. My skin is on fire, yeah?
So what do I do when the universe just offers me a gift like this? Me, being me, I scowl and start reshelving books. ‘Cuz he’s really not for me. No way. A whole crappy lifetime of crappiness tells me that he is not for me. Wouldn’t work.
So why can’t I stop thinking about him? About the way he bites the side of his bottom lip when he’s concentrating. About the way he tugs at his hair when he’s frustrated. Or the easy smile that just lights up his face whenever he figures something out.
He’s here with Cady. Cady is nice enough. Always in everyone’s business though. She’s strong and tough and sensitive and helpful and if I weren’t me I would probably like her.
I wonder if they’re together? I get the feeling pretty boy isn’t exactly on the straight and narrow but who knows? He could be bi. Though I’m sure the universe would think it was way more fun to mess with my head and have him be into guys. Just not me. No way.
Maybe?