Alex checks the address once again, straightens his collar, and smooths down his hair. He paces a couple of steps across the stoop, stops, lifts his hand to knock on the glossy black door of Mahiro and Adam’s brick town house, and pauses. Again.
He’s almost positive he’s gotten in way over his head. He told Chris so several times, each time the hysteria mounting higher and higher, culminating in a small meltdown in his kitchen less than an hour before he was to leave.
“This is crazy!” he snapped at Chris. “You’re asking me to put myself into the hands of a perfect stranger, to let him…I don’t know what! Slap me, or hurt me, or, or, f**k me! He’s going to want to f**k me, isn’t he?”
Chris rolled his eyes. “I’m not asking you to do anything. Remember, this was entirely your idea, mister w
