Three Cheers for Red Hair and Love

Large white houses with pillars and balconies started to peek through the trees. Long stone driveways and gold plated gates lined the roads. Much to Gerard’s surprise, the old Ford pulled into one of these.

A pale rose colored stone driveway with an ornate gilded gold gate guarding the entry. It opened without a sounds and they drove down the path lined with sculpted bushes and potted trees. After what seemed like miles a marble house rose up from the gorgeous grounds.

Frank pulled up to the front of the house and stopped the car. Like a gentleman, he stepped onto the driveway and made his way around the car. The door was pulled open for Gerard and he stooped his head under the roof of the car and exited.

“After you, Gee,” said Frank in a highly manufactured British accent with a smirk.

“Why thank you, Frank,” replied Gerard, attempting to hide the hot red blood rushing to his face. No one had ever called him Gee before. Not even Ryan. Stop thinking about him. He’s gone. Frank’s here now. Get the fuck over him.

He didn’t even know if Frank liked him “Like that.” All he knew was that at the sound of his name, butterflies flew in rampaging storms through his stomach and new friction was created in his jeans. It just felt so right.

Notes