Jack made a small noise in his throat. One finger arched itself on his knee. “It was older men, at first. Ten years, twenty years older. Boys my own age were too similar—to me, I mean. Anxious, havering, overeager to talk. I could do all that just as well on my own: asking why, how, what to do about it. Older men were no longer interested in those questions. I have since changed my mind. I like men my own age, sometimes a little younger.”
