Fresh Catch (Talbott’s Cove, #1)

by Kate Canterbary

"People on Twitter are like cats," Cole continued. "They knock shit over because why the fuck not?" "Seems like a great use of time," I replied. "People on Facebook are dogs at the dog park. They're running around in circles, looking for belly rubs, and barking when they're happy, sad, angry, and confused." He handed me another plate. "People on Tumblr are raccoons. They only come out when it's dark and they love trash. There are a few on Reddit, and they're toads. They make a lot of noise and then disappear when someone wants to interact with them on a meaningful level. And the people on Instagram, they're squirrels. They love shiny things and never stop fidgeting."

I didn't think I could move from this spot if a family of tiny purple ponies paraded down the hall and asked for directions to the carnival.

My dick was pitching a tent that could comfortably sleep a family of four and their elderly beagle,

Jerking off with a wall between us wasn't arrow-straight, but it wasn't a subscription to the Bear of the Month club either.

There was room on the rainbow for everyone.

"Good intentions do not erase or excuse harmful actions."

If there's one thing I've learned in my time on this planet, it's that I can't wait for people to be perfect.

I can't reject them because they don't know the best way to open a discussion on my queer life. I can want more and demand more, but I'm not going to refuse them when they're trying."

You're salty.

"The longer you put off a task, the harder it is to get started."

"Everyone wants to be snapped," Cole replied. "There's no one in the world who doesn't want it. We want it in different ways, at different times, but we still want it. Need it, even when we say we don't. We want to be accepted, cherished, adored. We want someone to recognize our messy, complicated souls, and love us for those messes and complications."

Neera: We've talked about this. It's not acceptable to threaten termination in casual conversation. Cole: That's right. My bad.

"I'm an entirely different breed of asshole. The kind who works too much and never has time for relationships. After a while, not having time for relationships turns into forgetting how to be in relationships. Then that turns into forgetting how to speak to people who don't work for you. Not long after reaching that point, your virginity grows back and you start researching the monastic approach to life."