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Summary
The stars were sprawled out above them, a brightly lit pool and porch below them. But all he could focus on was Eddie Munson’s hands.
But who wouldn’t, really? His fingertips were flat and square, the perfect end to the slender, ring-adorned fingers. His veins were prominent, there was a scar on his left pointer finger running up its whole side, tattoos were barely visible below his flannel, and it all made Steve want to study Eddie’s hands, to hold them and taste them and feel them on his own.
The cigarette was passed to him, and Steve ignored the thoughts. He was tipsy and just a little bit high. All he had to do was get through a few more hours alone with Munson without embarrassing himself.