Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77918 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77918 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
I nodded, the back of my neck itching. “We should get out there before Jasper thinks we went and disappeared.”
Sutton sighed, and I knew I’d disappointed him. The thing was, I didn’t know how to be anyone other than who I was.
As we went outside, I saw Sutton’s gaze land on Charles’s piano.
“We play music together,” I admitted.
“That’s good. Real good.”
“Can we stop talkin’ now? It’s givin’ me a headache,” I teased, and Sutton laughed.
“We can do that. When we get outside, Jasp will talk enough for the both of us anyway.”
He was right about that. Jasper rambled on about housework, teasing me about going over to help them with the remodel and stuff like that. The three of us ate together, then played a few songs on our guitars, but didn’t spend too much time on the music.
They didn’t stay late, not like Charles did, and before I knew it, I was walking them out to their truck and saying goodbye.
When they got in the vehicle, I watched as they said something to each other, then leaned over and kissed. It was a reminder that I’d spent my whole life never having that.
CHAPTER TEN
Charles
“We should go out to dinner tonight,” I told Brian when I got to his house on a Friday evening. We didn’t discuss my coming over most days; it was just something that happened. He’d message and ask if something was okay for dinner, or I’d tell him what I planned to bring. Sitting around his house felt different from sitting around my own, I guessed because of him.
“Why would we do that when we have food here?” Brian replied, and hearing him say we made me smile. Well, that and the fact that he literally didn’t go out to eat just for something to do. He was the definition of homebody, which was inexplicably cute.
“Just to get out? For something different? Because that’s what people do?”
“I ain’t people,” he replied in that tone where I was pretty sure he was trying to sound grumpier than he really was.
“You’re not people?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Go out to dinner with me, Bri. It’ll be fun. I looked up some places with live music and found one in Cloverhill.”
Like I figured he would, Brian perked up at the mention of music. He’d be a whole lot more sociable if he could communicate through playing.
Brian shrugged. “Not doin’ nothin’ else.”
“Gee, thanks. Don’t be too excited to go out with me.”
He frowned, the lines around his mouth deepening. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I know. I’m giving you shit.” I took his hand, stood, then pulled Brian to his feet.
“I’m a mess.” He was wearing a T-shirt with holes in it. While I thought it was sexy as fuck, he was right and should probably at least change that before we went. It wasn’t an upscale place we were going to, but still.
“Come on. Let me see what you’ve got.”
I didn’t let go of his hand and was surprised when Brian didn’t pull back. I’d done it on reflex the night we’d fallen asleep outside, but this time was different. Calculated wasn’t the right word because that had a negative connotation, but I was curious about him. I wasn’t trying to hit on him, wasn’t trying to push his boundaries or take advantage of him, but I thought maybe Brian liked to be touched, like it made him feel connected to someone or something when he normally didn’t.
“Whoa, I’m not sure about this. I gotta dress up?”
“No. I’m just curious what you have.”
I turned into his room and paused, looking at him and giving him a chance to tell me no. If he did, I’d leave him to it.
“This ain’t my thing.” He used his free hand to point back and forth between the two of us. “Playin’ dress-up.” He looked down, and it was as if he just realized I was still holding his hand. I was about to let go when Brian’s grip tightening slightly.
“Can I just take a peek, Bri? If you tell me no, I won’t. Pinky promise.”
“How old are you?”
“I’m young at heart, baby.”
Damned if he didn’t grin before his gaze shot away. “Have at it,” he replied softly.
“Fuck yes.” I almost hated letting go of him while I went to his closet. “Where are all your clothes?”
“Ha-ha.”
“You think I’m kidding, but I’m not.” Though he did look gorgeous in the faded jeans he always wore. I wanted to tell him that but also worried it was pushing things too far. “The pants can stay. I like them, but…” I browsed the items hanging. There weren’t a lot, but I found a black button-up shirt with short sleeves. It was simple, so I figured he was okay with it, but it was a little more than the T-shirts he usually wore. “You good with this?” I held it out.