by Daryl Banner
CONNOR
BOOK 1
by
Daryl Banner
Author of
Bromosexual
Hard For My Boss
Football Sundae
&
The Brazen Boys Series
Connor
Boys & Toys Season 2
Copyright © 2020 by Daryl Banner
Published by Frozenfyre Publishing
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever, including but not limited to being stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the author.
This book is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, groups, businesses, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover Photography
Eric McKinney
Cover Model
Dustin McNeer
Cover & Interior Design
Daryl Banner
CONNOR
BRETT
DANTE
ZAK
CONNOR CHAPTER LIST
[ THE KANSAS BOY ]
1
2
3
4
[ THE OTHER SIDE OF TOWN ]
5
6
7
8
[ THE CHANCE ENCOUNTER ]
9
10
11
12
13
14
[ THE VERY BAD IDEA ]
15
16
17
[ THE TRUTH ]
18
19
20
[ CONNOR’S EPILOGUE ]
Epilogue
What’s next for the boys?
Other works by Daryl Banner
Excerpt from Boys & Toys Season 1: Caysen’s Catch
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Whether you’ve read the first season of Boys & Toys, or this is your introduction to them, thank you for picking up this book! I hope you continue to enjoy the series as these four men pursue love, have fun, get into a little trouble, and hopefully discover their place in the world along the way.
I’d like to dedicate this series to every gay or queer person reading this who, at times, feels like an outsider even among their own kind. You are not alone. You belong in this world, and you have an important and necessary purpose here. Thank you for being your unique and amazing self.
Happy reading, always!
XXOO ~ Daryl
CONNOR
BOYS & TOYS SEASON 2 BOOK 1
[ THE KANSAS BOY ]
The city is ripe with life in the hot afternoon sun, honking vehicles, and toiling smog. In a crowded airport, Connor, bright-faced, young, and fresh off a flight from Kansas, cheerily makes his way with three heavy bags of luggage.
1
“Today, my life begins!” I state excitedly.
The vendor rubs her sleepy eyes. “Congrats. Here’s your change.”
I slap my new blue hat on my head. Today, my life begins! That was my first thought after proudly disembarking the plane ten minutes ago. The life I dreamed of since leaving the doors of Wortham Academy of Kansas, degree in hand. This big new city is the playground of my future, and I am ready to play its game. Life is beautiful. Life is limitless. And my future is full of promise and—
“Outta the way, you fucking dipshit!”
I’m shoved aside by a small yet monstrous old man, causing one of my rolling suitcases to tip over. “S-Sorry!” I call out at him, but he’s already replaced by a dozen other busybodies, pushing their way ahead. After adjusting the strap of my laptop-carrying messenger bag, I quickly scramble to right my luggage, realizing that being trampled to death is a very likely possibility in this lobby.
And that’s not an ideal start to my new life.
Wait a second. Didn’t I have four bags?
“I think my bag was stolen,” I tell a bored-faced clerk at the help desk. “It had half of my clothes, a care package from my mom, an irreplaceable lucky teddy bear named Grinch with one missing eye—”
“Fill out this form.”
I stare down at a zillion words crammed onto a tiny sheet of paper. Hey, isn’t this a city-living rite of passage? Being pickpocketed in the middle of a crowded place? I should be honored!
I wonder whether it’s still called pickpocketing if it’s an entire bag that was stolen.
Ten minutes later—and one sad glance at the long bathroom lines—I conclude I’m going to have to hold it until I get to my new apartment. In lieu of a bathroom mirror, I make sure to give myself a quick glance into the reflective side of a vending machine, fussing with my short, messy hair and trying to coax it all into the same direction. My normally big, blue (and vexingly innocent-looking) eyes appear sunken and tired after my flight, which wasn’t all that long, even though I was able to get in almost two movies. I give myself a kiss in the reflection—noticed unexpectedly by an old security officer nearby—then cheerily make my way for the doors.
“Taxi!” I call out a moment later as I stand on the curb like a pro in the waning evening sunlight, waving a hand and nearly knocking off my hat.
This is all very exciting to me, by the way.
Another yellow bullet whizzes by, tossing my loose bangs as it goes. Am I even doing this right?
Who cares? I’m so thrilled I’m even doing this at all. I’m sure no one notices, but I’m beaming with pride as I try—and fail—to get myself a taxi. I’ve never had to hail one before.
Heck, I’ve only been off the plane less than thirty minutes and already I’m experiencing my second rite of passage.
But arms do get sore—and I can only hail so long.
“Yes, Mom, I landed safely.” I press the phone to my sweaty ear and lean against a wall, having given up my quest for a taxi. “Just a minor mishap with a bag. I filled out a form and—No, no, it’s fine, I’m safe! I wasn’t mugged. At least, I don’t think I was. I just need to find my way to Mayville, and—”
“I packed you a tin of your favorite cookies you can share with your nice new roommate!” she reminds me. “Oh, the cookies weren’t in the bag that went missing, were they?”
I dodge her question. “I’ll text you when I get settled, ‘kay? Love you!” I hang up with a wince.
I really hate to evade my mom, but she doesn’t need to know everything. Independence is a thing you have to take; it isn’t something you’re given.
That was the last pearl of wisdom my dad gave me before I left to catch my flight.
“Meddling parents?” someone asks at my side.
I turn towards the warm, husky voice—the first pleasant sound I’ve heard since stepping off of the plane—and am stunned by the sight of a handsome, chiseled face. His brown hair is a perfect, deliberate sweep with a hint of stylish highlights, making his round, heavily-lidded, close-set eyes pop. When he smiles, the smooth, warm copper of his skin glows, giving way to hints of cherry red at the apples of his cheeks. The corners of his lips are pinched by the cutest dimples. His pink fitted short-sleeve dress shirt sticks to his small and tightly-muscled frame, showing off his pecs. His fancy pastel shorts and classy shoes tells me he knows his designers, too.
I knew there would be hot guys in this city, but I didn’t expect to encounter one so soon. Is it too late to check myself in a mirror again? Am I a mess? “I love my parents, but they get kinda clingy.”
He smiles. “I couldn’t help but overhear. Don’t worry,” he adds. “I know all about clingy parents.”
I let out a strained laugh, relieved. “You’ve got a pair of them yourself, I take it?”
“My father, mostly.” He slowly takes me in with his soft eyes, one curious spoonful at a time. “Hence my need to get as far away from him as I can from time to time. I’m back from a quick weekend getaway to P-town.”
I have no idea what or where that is. But I nod as if I do. “That sounds like fun!”
“It is! But … it could have been better. I had planned to go with friends, but they bailed. Where are you headed?” He grips the handle of his own rolling luggage, which I just now notice—a sleek, black case with a single golden stripe down its side. “Uptown? Grayson Point? Whitaker Park?”
“Mayville.”
“Mayville? Ah, that’s where all the boys are at.” He lets out a hearty chuckle, then inclines his head toward me. “There’s a reason they call it Gayville.”
I think I still haven’t stopped nodding from the whole P-town thing. I’m in a daze. I can’t seem to peel my eyes off of his.
I want him to like me. Badly.
“Oh.” His eyes flash with alarm. “I didn’t mean to assume. Are you not gay?”
I blink, coming to. “What? Oh, sorry. Yes. Yes, I am. I definitely am. Gay, that is.”
“Ah. Phew! What a relief.” He laughs, shakes his head, then gestures at me. “You have the vibe of a corn-fed hetero country boy … yet heading to a place like Mayville. I’m getting mixed signals.”
I don’t want the first hottie I meet here to think I’m weird. I whip off my hat suddenly and run a hand through my hair. “I answered an ad for a roommate,” I explain.
“I see, I see. You look better without it.”
“Without it?” I glance down at the hat in my hand. “Oh, this? I literally just bought it at the—”
“Lose it.”
“Uh … lose it?”
“Your hair looks great,” he tells me. “Lose the hat. It does nothing for you.”
I flush, then stuff it away into a bag. “Sorry for being weird. I’m new here.”
He smirks knowingly, nodding. “I gathered as much. And that explains a few things, too. Like the interestingly desperate and somewhat entertaining way you hailed for a taxi.”
I laugh. “Hey, I wasn’t that bad, was I?”
“Terrible,” he teases me, letting on an adorable smile that makes his eyes twinkle. “The worst.”
“So is there a trick to it?”
“No trick.” He leans into me, bringing his body awfully (and pleasantly) close to mine, then points toward the street. “The lights on top of the taxies? If the middle one’s on, then it’s available.”
When I turn my face, I’m inches from his. His warm brown eyes are like pools of maple syrup when the sunlight catches them, causing his earthy irises to sparkle, and his lips are a plump, pillowy heart that do things to me when they move.
“But if you want to skip all of this madness,” he goes on, “I happen to have an Uber waiting for me down the road a bit.”
I’m in such a daze, I barely hear him. “Uber?”
“That’s what I said. Want to share a ride?”
Today, my life begins—and I love it. “Why not?”
2
Our driver cuts through traffic like it’s whipped cream. He makes sharp turns, shifts lanes abruptly, and is heavy and merciless on the horn.
I should be scared for my life, but instead, I’m thrilled and staring out the window in awe.
“Are you alright?”
“How does he do it?” I ask quietly, astonished. “I mean, he drives like he’s playing bumper cars.”
The driver cuts suddenly into the left lane and narrowly misses a dump truck, honking loudly.
I gasp and reach out to grab the first thing—my new friend’s hand. I let go and blush. “S-Sorry.”
He chuckles, amused. “Don’t be. We move at a different speed here.”
“Is that about a hundred miles an hour?” I ask.
“Give or take,” he teases. “And you can hold my hand if you want to.”
I flick my eyes at him. My heart climbs up into my throat. “I can what?”
“I mean, I don’t want you to pass out from shock before getting to your destination. If it helps you to hold my hand, go right ahead. It isn’t busy. Mayville’s only a few minutes away, so—”
“Almost there already? No,” I quickly answer, trying not to sound as flustered as I clearly am. “I don’t need to hold hands. It was … a reflex thing.”
He smirks like he knows something, popping those big, adorable dimples of his out. “Sure, sure.”
I bite my lip, then stare out the window, my eyes glowing in wonder as the huge buildings and crowds on the streets fly by. The sun is setting, and nighttime is slowly taking over the city. Lights are popping up all around us, flashing and buzzing and crackling with energy. A whole new sense of thrill and adventure has seized me and won’t let go.
I can’t believe I’m actually here.
“I’m picking up a bit of southern in your accent,” he says. “Are you from Texas? I have to guess.”
Oops. Did I drop a G somewhere? I’ve been trying to hide it. “Kansas, actually.”
“Ooh, a Kansas boy. The accent is even deeper when you say ‘Kansas’. Aww, what’s that look for?” He nudges me. “It’s cute! Don’t be embarrassed of it. Some people have a thing for country boys.”
Despite his soft, husky voice, he exudes a kind of encouraging confidence that is strong, yet still friendly. “Alright, alright. If you say so.”
“Oh, I say so.” He runs a hand through his perfect hair. He smells so good. “I’m from here, like my father—you know, the one I was desperate to get away from this weekend,” he adds lightly as an aside. “My mother is from a little town outside of Hong Kong.”
“Ooh, I love Chinese food!” I exclaim at once, then stuff a foot in my mouth. “Uh, wait, was that dumb to say? Sorry, never mind.” I hide my face.
He’s already laughing. “No! It’s okay, it’s okay. The food in actual China is probably … not quite what you’re used to, Kansas boy. Wow, you’re so adorable. Are you sure you even belong here? I mean, this city has teeth.”
I bite my fist, then let go and shoot him a look. “I’ve only been here ten seconds and already know this place is exactly what’s missin’ from my life.”
He studies me for a bit, curious and thoughtful.
I stare back into his eyes, lost in them.
Why is my heart racing like it’s gunning for some finish line I can’t see?
The car pulls to a very sudden stop by a curb.
And just like that, we’ve arrived.
“No, no, the ride is already paid for,” he tells me when I reach for my wallet.
I gape at him. “But wasn’t this out of your way, bringing me here? I cost you extra money and time. Your destination’s on the other side of town.”
He smirks. “And it was worth every penny.”
I purse my lips and fight off a smile, blushing for the tenth time since meeting him. “Thanks.”
Soon, I’m on the sidewalk with all my luggage, and a five-story building with multicolored brick and countless windows stands in front of me. The front steps are covered in chalk drawings—and their culprit is crouched among them, a teenager with glitter in his bush of red, curly hair, coloring away. Nearby against the window of a café on the corner, a pair of shirtless men make out, oblivious to the world. On the other side of the apartment building, a sex toy shop flashes its latest sale through the window. Across the street through a noisy haze of rumbling engines, chatter, and throngs of gay men strolling about, I spot a bar called Dames & Dudes with a glittery hot-pink high-heel for a logo.
I stare at my surroundings a moment too long.
This sure ain’t a sight you see in Kansas.
I snap out of it and face my friend, standing now outside the Uber, patiently awaiting me, arms crossed over his chest.
I suddenly wish the car
ride had been longer.
“Well, it’s been fun!” I exclaim. “Thanks for lettin’ me share your Uber … and for paying. I—”
“I want your number.”
I blink, startled. “Oh, right. Uh, yeah! We can totally do that. Cool.” I pull out my phone.
He takes it from my hands at once and taps his lightning thumbs on it. A moment later, he hands it right back. “I texted myself so we have each other’s numbers. I’m Alan, by the way.”
“Connor.” A sudden laugh wiggles its way out of me. “I guess we kinda did this backwards, huh?”
“Oh, you mean by introducing ourselves just before parting ways? It’s surprisingly common.” He flashes me the handsomest smile I’ll remember for days. “I’ll catch you later, Kansas boy Connor.”
I blush. Again. “You too, Alan.”
With an assured nod, he slips back into the car, and with a purr of its engine, he’s off.
I notice the pair of horny men have stopped kissing and are now staring at me, giving me a very thorough once-over from their spot by the window.
I give them a quick wave hello.
They return to making out, having clearly lost all interest in me.
The doors to the building burst open at once. A tall, gorgeous, thickly-muscled black man in a tight white t-shirt and jeans appears. “Did I not tell you last time what would happen if I caught you drawing on my steps again with those—Hey!” The teenager has already taken off running. “Get back here! Who’s gonna clean this mess up?? I know your father!” He growls. “Damned kid.”
His face is so immediately striking, the man is a million-dollar model peeled right off the pages of a fashion magazine. He makes the plain white t-shirt glued to his muscles look like a designer’s choice, the way it makes his rich chestnut skin glow.
Then his harsh eyes fall on me. “The hell you looking at?”
I blink. “Is this Piazza Place? 4300 East Villa?”
He squints at me for an answer.
I go to take a step forward, but a pair of guys walk right past me, causing me to stumble. “I’m, um … looking for 4300 East Villa? I think this is the place. Piazza Place. Is this it? Do you live here? I’m Connor,” I add quickly, smiling.
