Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“Better not.” Dad continued to sound ready to call Monroe out like some old western gunslinger. And I almost gave the whole sleep ruse away by cringing hard at the reminder they still thought I was going to graduate school. Hell, if I couldn’t disappoint them about school, how in the hell was I going to tear apart a twenty-year friendship? “Knox needs to date people his own age. He’s a kid. Monroe is a grown adult who should know better. He’s like…an honorary uncle or something. It would be wrong.”
Wrong. Dad’s certainty cut me to my core, but not how he intended. I was the one who’d taken advantage of Monroe. I’d set my sights on him from the club onward, never dialed back the flirting, and more or less talked him into the secret fling idea. I’d done a bad, bad thing, and worse, Monroe had tried to warn me. Dating me openly would mean the end of his friendship with Dad. Heck, probably others as well. Friends. Acquaintances. People, especially around here, would judge us and find Monroe the one at fault.
“Well, luckily for you, Rob, they’re just roommates.” Jessica gave a tired laugh, and I very nearly joined her. Roommates. Uh-huh.
“Who cuddle.” Angie snort-laughed.
“Gah. I’m ready for Monroe to sell that damn house. Get Knox off to school. Monroe to the Bay. Everything back to normal.” Dad sounded exhausted himself, but my chest still pinched. Was he that eager to be rid of me? The pain spread as he continued, “I saw Ginny Davis at Blessed Bean the other day. There’s a developer looking to buy near downtown. She thinks they would pay Monroe cash and take it as-is since they’d likely do a teardown.”
“Oh, that’s sad. I hope he doesn’t take the offer.”
“Eh. It’s life. The town needs to keep up. Those old houses are money pits. Monroe doesn’t need that.”
The voices drifted away as Dad likely steered Jessica upstairs to rest. What did Monroe need? That was the true question of the night? I’d been so damn sure it was me. And now…I had no clue, and my chest ached right along with my neck from holding this blasted position. Why hadn’t Monroe told me he had an offer to buy the house? Was that why he’d been so sweet lately? Guilt? Knowing all my hard work was going to be bulldozed? And why was I so surprised? He’d always intended to leave. Loving me didn’t change that.
He exhaled softly in his sleep, lips pursing. God, I loved him. I wished we were alone, back at his house, so I could show him. As soon as we returned there, I would make every one of our remaining seconds together count. I might not ever be able to tell him, but I couldn’t keep lying to myself. I loved him, and he was leaving, two unchangeable truths in a sea of unknowns.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Monroe
“Naptime for everyone.” As soon as we were back at my place after watching the triplets, Knox steered me to the back stairs. Apparently, Rob and Jessica had returned sometime around dawn. Now, it was a little before seven, warm summer sun making the kitchen glow. Wallace had greeted us at the kitchen door, and Knox had him stashed under one arm.
Meow. Wallace protested, undoubtedly trying to point out that it was an hour better suited for coffee and kibble, not naps.
“It feels decadent going back to bed with the sun up.” I gave a halfhearted protest because I truly was still exhausted and wasn’t going to turn down extra snuggle time with Knox, but years of diligent work ethic had me at least giving lip service to staying awake.
“Feels necessary.” Knox clearly had no such conflict as he led the way to the bedroom. He gently set Wallace down by the third-floor stairs. “Later, I need to work on the painting like I told Frank and Leon I would, but right now, we both need some rest.”
“True. I’m too old to be snoozing on couches all night.”
“Yep.” Knox gave me a long, speculative look that had me shifting my feet. The longer he looked, the more the skin on my lower back prickled.
“What?”
“Nothing.” He shook his head, eyes far too full of emotion for nothing. “But you’re not old.”
Taking my hand, he pulled me the rest of the way into the bedroom and kicked the door shut.
“Poor Wallace.” I chuckled, but the laugh caught in my throat as he skimmed his hands down my sides, touch heartbreakingly gentle, eyes serious. He removed my shirt, holding my gaze as he undid my fly next, his intensity unnerving. “Hey. I thought we were going to nap.”
“Maybe I want to make sure you have sweet dreams.” He palmed my cock through my boxers.
“Well, that’s one way to do it.” I’d showered after yesterday’s run and before the babysitting gig, but nevertheless, I glanced toward the bathroom. “Maybe we should—”