Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
* * *
After the last campers were picked up, Dylan made quick work of the cleanup and headed home. Funny how quickly Apollo’s house had become that. Silence reigned as he entered the house, and he remembered that the girls were gone, something he’d tried not to think about while working. Apollo had looked too damn good in his uniform when he’d picked the girls up, and Dylan hadn’t been able to give him more than a quick wave without his thoughts drifting to what they might get up to that night.
“I’m back,” he called out as he headed to the kitchen. All his resolutions about keeping his distance from more sex with Apollo fled in the face of fierce lust. In fact, maybe it was better this way—end all this dithering and simply jump Apollo’s bones right now, no preliminaries, get the last of this inconvenient attraction out of the way for both of them, remind himself that all there was between them was hormones and sex and—
“Holy crap. You look good.” The words tumbled out of his mouth as he took in the sight of Apollo wiping down an already-spotless counter while wearing a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of gray twill slacks with a shiny black belt.
“Thanks. I thought it might be nice to go out to dinner?”
“Out?” Dylan’s plan of pushing Apollo back against the fridge and blowing him warred with curiosity over what Apollo was up to.
“Yeah, you know, eat a steak uninterrupted by kids, see some of San Diego that maybe you haven’t yet.” Apollo shrugged like this was no big deal but his eyes were tight. “Thought maybe we could take the ferry to the Coronado, eat on the waterfront.”
“Ah.” Dylan couldn’t manage much more than the sound. Is this a date? Can this be a date? Are you asking me out? Questions swirled around his brain but he couldn’t find the words to vocalize them, not wanting to spook whatever change had come over Apollo.
“Marilyn gave me a certificate for one of the restaurants on the waterfront for Christmas. Great view of the city. Thought that might be fun for you and I better use the certificate up before it expires.”
Okay. Not really a date then if Apollo was framing it in terms of expiration dates and a favor for him. Not exactly what his treacherous heart had hoped for at the sight of Apollo all dressed up, but exactly what he deserved.
“Give me ten minutes to shower?” he asked because any other response he could come up with seemed rude. Even if a petty part of him wanted to turn Apollo down for not offering what he really wanted, the small waver of uncertainty in Apollo’s eyes stopped him from declining, kept him from hardening his heart against this tentative gesture.
“Sure.” Apollo offered him a small smile. “I’ll just finish in here—kind of relaxing to clean when I know it will stay clean more than five minutes.”
Dylan rushed through a shower before digging in the back of his closet for a shirt with buttons. Maybe this wasn’t a date exactly but it was still thoughtful and the least he could do was get presentable. He tamed his curly hair the best he could and slipped on a blue shirt that his ex-boyfriend the trainer had always liked on him.
At the very last minute, he pocketed a condom from the box he’d bought last week. There really wasn’t much use in playing coy and pretending that he wasn’t going to put out if Apollo so much as nodded in that direction. Oh hell. Might as well go all in. He made his bed and fluffed the pillows.
He still hadn’t been inside Apollo’s bedroom other than a brief peek when the guy was at work, which Dylan still felt guilty over. And it was just a room—king-size bed, dark wood furnishings and gray walls with surprisingly formal pictures on the wall—but somehow it managed to feel more...sacred. Like one of the pictures in the girls’ memory books, but this one more personal, a snapshot of a private space Apollo had shared with Neal, making Dylan feel like he was about to overturn a memory if he stared too long, so he’d quickly shut the door and cursed his own curiosity.
You’ll never be Neal, an insidious voice whispered as he straightened the comforter on his own bed.
Duh. Like he needed the reminder. But maybe, just maybe, he could be Dylan, the guy Apollo had a really memorable Friday night with, one who chased away the shadows in his eyes and the pain in his heart for a few hours.
* * *
Apollo wasn’t usually one for touristy things like the ferry connecting downtown San Diego with Coronado Island. He did his commuting via the bridge, cursing traffic no matter what time his shifts were. But he’d had a hunch that Dylan would be all over the ferry boat idea—he doubted it was something they had a lot of back in Oregon, and Dylan liked little touches of whimsy like how he always arranged the girls’ food in cute ways when he plated their dinner.