Horn Player
The night was so hot that if you struck a match you would almost expect the air itself to catch on fire. The ceiling fan did nothing to relieve any of the heat, but seemed to whisper apologetically as it spun above his head. He sat there quietly, hands on his knees, sweat running down his face. He was not sure if it was the heat or if he was sweating looking at the sexiest pair of legs he had ever laid eyes on. What those legs were connected to was still hidden in the shadows. The place was...