Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
And it was strange for Emerson too. Not that he was interested in Neil, though he was handsome and thoughtful, but it would be cool to go to the Rockets game with a friend. As to the strange idea that Neil might be attracted to him…maybe that would be just fine and not weird at all.
“That would be awesome. Thank you.”
The evening of Rhys’s nightmare, Emerson thought for a startling moment that he’d felt something more from Rhys, which gave him a flicker of hope and made him ache with longing. Unfortunately, there hadn’t been any more obvious clues since then. He figured he’d let his imagination run away with him, and he’d come to the painful conclusion that the shared tender moment had only served to deepen their friendship.
But at least he felt more certain that even after Rhys moved back across the street, their closeness wouldn’t change—not after experiencing this tragedy through his eyes and trying like hell to help him through it. Even though Emerson loved having him around, it wasn’t plausible in the long run. Rhys needed to get back to work and to his life. And so did Emerson. Attending the game with Neil would be a start.
“You’re going out?” Audrey asked, and Emerson was afraid she’d pout or complain about one thing or another, but she just seemed dazed.
“Geez, don’t make it seem like I’m a hermit.”
“You said it,” Rhys muttered, and Emerson gently flung a pillow in his direction.
When there was a loud boom, they all tensed. Shortly after the lights began flickering, but then the electricity seemed to thread through the power line and hang on while strikes of lightning flashed out the window, followed by loud rumbles of thunder. Still, Emerson made a mental note about where they’d stored the flashlights and candles. It’d been a couple of years since they’d had a storm this bad.
“That lightning definitely struck something in the neighborhood,” Rhys said.
“I think you’re right,” Emerson said, standing to look out the window. Thinking about all the fallen branches and debris that would be littering the lawns in the wake of such a powerful storm, he was glad they didn’t have any large trees to contend with in their yard, not like other neighbors did. Then the sky lit up, and he had a clear view of the houses on their street. “Holy crap!”
“What’s happening?” Sam asked in a panic, lifting the blanket to his chin.
“It’ll be okay, Sam,” Audrey said in a soothing tone, uneasily searching Emerson’s profile. But not wanting to alarm Rhys, he couldn’t respond until he figured out if his eyes were deceiving him.
He motioned Rhys toward the window, and once Rhys rose, he noted the problem immediately. “Fuck. You’ve got to be kidding me.” A large limb had fallen from the gigantic red maple onto his roof. The same maple that provided them shade during hot summers, but which in recent years had threatened to topple over with age.
“Stay right here.” Emerson reached for a raincoat from the entryway closet. “Let me check out the damage.”
“Wait until the storm dies down.” He felt Rhys’s hand clamp down on his arm. “It’s not safe.”
“I’ll be okay,” he scoffed, but then heard Sam quietly freaking out and Audrey attempting to soothe him. Fuck, he hadn’t meant to scare anyone. “I’ll just go out on the porch until it clears.”
Rhys shuffled outside closely behind him, and Emerson’s pulse beat double-time. As his view became unobstructed, he realized it was worse than he’d thought. It appeared that the branch had gone through the roof. Which meant there was a substantial hole and rain would be pouring in.
“You see what I do?” Emerson asked in a cautious tone as Rhys swore and thunder boomed around them.
“Just freaking great.” He began pacing back and forth. “Guess that goddamned tree is in competition for ruining my year.”
“It’s a freak accident,” Emerson pointed out, though he didn’t think it would help.
“Yeah, I think I know a little bit about freak accidents,” he grumbled, and Emerson fell silent. No way did he want to make it worse. He’d be just as upset if the tables were turned. “Jesus fuck. Mom’s gonna be pissed.”
While Rhys cursed, treading a path inside the porch like a caged animal, Emerson decided he needed to step up and take hold of the reins. Rhys was too stressed to think clearly. He lifted his phone and dialed emergency services to request assistance. He explained that they couldn’t be sure whether the tree had taken down any power lines. It was night, and the house was dark, but Rhys always kept a light on in the kitchen. From his vantage point, there was no electricity in Rhys’s house, nor at the surrounding addresses on that side of the street.
“Fuck, thank you,” Rhys said as soon as he hung up. “What would I do without—”