Devin arrived home about three hours later. During his time away, Wren busied himself online, searching Craigslist not for hot, willing men but for a new job. The prospects were dismal. He could be a front desk person at a hair salon, an “associate” at Sears, or a dog groomer. “We train!” He could hand out leaflets and samples in the Loop for a new cereal. He could valet park cars. He could telemarket his little heart out.
So when Devin rolled in the door, all smiles, skinny jeans, and a form-fitting black T-shirt that made him look like he’d just wrapped up a modeling gig for Details magazine and suggested they hit the bars for “Horny hour cocktails. You know, to celebrate the coming of my new roomie…” Wren was too defeated to argue.
A big, stiff drink sounded perfect.
Wren stood to gi
