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Bicycle Built for Drew

The uppercut was epic. If it had happened in slow motion, the grace of the slender yet toned bicep slicing – nay, tearing – upwards through the air would have blown the panties off of even the most conservative of school librarians.

Spittle erupted from the young man’s mouth as the pointed fist connected with his square jaw, head thrown back with a sharp snap. Philip’s eyes rolled up into his head as though he were trying to inspect the inside of his skull, hands loosening from the handlebars as he tumbled backwards and off of the seat. His bulbous ass hit the pavement with a satisfying plop. The bicycle that he was sitting proudly atop just moments before toppled over onto his chest.

Drew grabbed the handlebars of the fallen bicycle and lifted it vertically, looking down at the boy that would likely bully him no more. “Stay off of my bike.”

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