Chapter 3Eee-er, eee-er, eee-er.
“Bloody hell!” Bleary-eyed and hard, Warwick scratched at his bedhead and then at his hairy crotch. “Give me a break, will ya?”
At the crack of dawn, 11-B and his boyfriend, girlfriend, husband, wife, or morning trick were at it again.
Eee-er, eee-er.
Warwick flipped to his belly and covered his ears with Lawrence’s pillow. It was one of the few things, other than clothing, he’d brought to the new place from the old, that and a plastic bin filled with memories too emotional to revisit and a head filled with more.
Thud!
Thud!
Thud!
There was no use trying to get more sleep. The sun was bright. Morning had broken, and it was already hot. The one drawback to the apartment—other than the new s*x-crazed neighbors—was the ineffectual AC.
Warwick wondered
