Chapter 8: Against Me
Turtle Bay Apartments
Naples, Florida
11:29 P.M.
There we were in my third-floor bedroom, face to face, just two guys among the straight and queer population of Naples. Cord stood at the foot of the bed and took in my room. “This place isn’t bad at all,” he said.
What he saw: medium-blue walls; a window seat covered in yellow pillows; a shelf of paperback books by contemporary gay writers like J.M. Snyder, Jeff Adams, and Steve Nugent; a leather reading chair with arms worn from too much use; a closet cluttered with sports jerseys, running shoes, and Kenneth Cole dress shirts; a nightstand with one drawer, where I keep ultra-slick lube and ribbed condoms; a Steve Walker print called Rain that hung above the queen-size bed strewn with giant pillows; a fake Tiffany
