End of the Line
By Layla Cole
()
About this ebook
The world’s ending, and Julian probably shouldn’t waste time lusting after his best friend. Turns out the apocalypse has a way of rearranging a guy’s priorities, though, and all he can think about is Cory—gorgeous, strong, Cory, who’s straight, just like Julian. Or is he? With the tension crackling between them, Julian doesn’t know what to think.
When the two of them are stranded on the West Coast with the world-changing Blight right behind them, Julian starts wondering about missed opportunities and first times. If one night is all they have, he's determined to make it count. Of course, that only works if he can manage to figure out how he feels--and if Cory can do the same, before they lose their chance forever.
Layla Cole
Layla Cole moved three thousand miles for love and is now living out her happy ending in the mountains of North Carolina with her wonderful husband, who can't quite understand why she prefers rainy days to clear blue skies. It's the Oregonian in her, she says.Layla's stories range from erotica to romance, dark to lighthearted, but often include paranormal elements (werewolves are her favorite), strong characters--usually men who can't stop pushing each other's buttons--a dose of humor, hot sex, and (sometimes) true love.When she isn't writing, Layla enjoys gaming, reading, spending time with her husband and adorable but crazy puppy, and (attempting) to cook. She lives for good coffee, good food, lazy days in bed, and last, but definitely not least, her fans. Find her online at laylacole.com or send her an email at laylacolewrites@gmail.com. She'd love to hear from you!If you want to be the first to fiind out about new releases, you can sign up for updates at http://eepurl.com/xiNE9
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End of the Line - Layla Cole
End of the Line
Layla Cole
18+| Length: 21,800 word novella
The world’s ending, and Julian probably shouldn’t waste time lusting after his best friend. Turns out the apocalypse has a way of rearranging a guy’s priorities, though, and all he can think about is Cory—gorgeous, strong, Cory, who’s straight, just like Julian. Or is he? With the tension crackling between them, Julian doesn’t know what to think.
When the two of them are stranded on the West Coast with the world-changing Blight right behind them, Julian starts wondering about missed opportunities and first times. If one night is all they have, he's determined to make it count. Of course, that only works if he can manage to figure out how he feels--and if Cory can do the same, before they lose their chance forever.
End of the Line
Layla Cole
****
Copyright © 2014 Layla Cole
All Rights Reserved
License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
All characters in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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One
The last boat is leaving, and there’s no room for us. Not for money, not for favors, not for anything we’re carrying, or so the men guarding the gangway repeat, over and over again. There’s no room. And then they’re packing up, shoving off, and it’s just me and Cory and all the other desperate people left on the pier to wait out the apocalypse.
Supposed apocalypse. Cory would definitely correct me on that.
Did you try giving them money? The weed?
Cory says. He’s tight-lipped and probably ready to punch someone, but there’s no one here to take his anger out on except me.
I get it. The whole situation sucks.
Yeah, I tried. The guy took the weed and the money, so, there’s that,
I say, and let my backpack fall to the wood at my feet. I offered to suck his dick at one point, too. No bueno.
Julian, please tell me you didn’t.
He turns toward me with his dark blond hair messed up and salt-crusted from the spray, his glasses specked with water, and looks at me like he can’t decide whether to be scandalized or pissed, so I paste on my best ha-ha-I’m-joking face until he cocks his head and comes to the conclusion I want him to.
But, really: I one-hundred-percent meant it when I told one of the guards I’d get on my knees for him if he’d just let us on the boat. For Cory, I’d do almost anything. Woulda sucked off a hundred guys if I had to, or let them fuck me even though the idea of selling my body makes my skin crawl.
Let’s set the record straight, though—I’m not gay. Not exactly. Just vaguely interested and a whole lot practical. Between the two of us we have a week’s worth of clothing, less than a hundred bucks since that pendejo took what I tried to give him, a map, a couple sandwiches, some protein bars, our phones, and the junker of a car that Cory managed to get for us. The weed Cory won in a poker game when we were still in Mexico’s gone, too, which is a shame ‘cause I wouldn’t have minded getting high right about now.
Anyway, we’re not exactly rich. And not exactly equipped for survival.
Good thing the end of the world isn’t gonna drag on much longer.
That’s it. We’re screwed.
Don’t be so melodramatic.
Cory crosses his arms and sets his jaw mulishly as he stares out at the rapidly shrinking outline of our only ticket out of here. I can see the instant he shoves it all down and pastes on a smile instead. It’s just a setback. There’s gotta be another way.
Yeah? You gonna swim all the way to China, huh? Grab a surfboard and try to make it to Hawaii?
That gets me a punch on the arm, and not a playful one, either. Ow.
C’mon. We’ve made it this far. Can’t give up now.
I wish I could see whatever possibilities are dancing in those green eyes of his, but I can’t. How far can we possibly go before we can’t run anymore? We aren’t dealing with zombies or vampires or a plague, where we could hole up someplace and fight the things that come to us. This kind of thing is new, it’s magic, and it has an inevitability to it that scares the hell out of me.
Maybe things would have been different if we’d started running when the news first broke, but nope. We thought if we waited, it would all work itself out.
Spoiler: it didn’t.
Cory picks up my backpack and shoves it against my chest with enough force that for a second I worry I’m going to fall off the pier. We’re gonna keep going.
As he stalks off into the crowd, I can’t help thinking that maybe if he’d been the one to offer himself up, we’d have made it on the boat. Cory’s the looker. Not me. I’m the one with the crooked nose from an old break and the scarred up face and neck, skin too dark to blend in back home, my black hair curly and unruly when I let it grow out longer than it is now. Got a decent mouth and I’m in shape, I guess.
It’s enough for some girls. Was enough. Back when it didn’t count.
But Cory…he’s different. Looks like life just can’t touch him. Some people have that kind of glow, you know? Light up a room when they walk in, make you feel all warm and fuzzy just ‘cause you’re within a few feet of them. Granted, with Cory the charismatic extrovert’s more of a facade—one he sheds when he comes home from parties or classes, too worn out to say a word to anyone.
The charm’s fallen by the wayside the last few days, with the stress we’ve been under, but that’s only a small part of what I like anyway. He can be guarded, even downright impossible sometimes, takes forever to plan things, and right now the everything’s-going-to-be-fine act is irritating the fuck out of me, but I’ve always been drawn to