Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 104138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
“Holden,” James barks upon picking up my call.
“Hey. It’s me,” I say, wondering why he doesn’t already know that. I’m assuming by his curt greeting that he didn’t look at the caller I.D. “You okay?”
“Sure.” He doesn’t sound even marginally convincing.
“I wanted to ask if I could stay with you tonight, but if you’re busy…”
“I’m never too busy for you, Theodore.”
I smile, relieved by his softer tone. “Tess has kinda kicked me out for the night. Are you at your apartment or the house?”
“Apartment.”
“Have you eaten?”
“No.”
Christ, plaiting shit would be easier than trying to tease more than a single word answer out of James right now. “Do you like Chinese?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, I’ll bring food. Be there in half an hour or so.”
“Sure.”
Ending the call, I sigh with concern. Something must’ve happened during the few hours we’ve been apart because there’s no denying he’s in a bad mood. There’s no way to figure out what could be wrong without seeing him so, starting the engine, I set off to pick up dinner before heading straight to Spinningfields.
Armed with bags of food, I’m grateful to the security guy who opens the doors to James’ building for me. When I reach the penthouse, I use the tip of my shoe to lightly kick the door instead of knocking.
“Shit,” I mutter, noticing my foot has left behind a small scuff on the door. I’d obsess over it a little longer but it starts to open. Stepping inside, I see James is already walking away from me. I push the door closed behind me with my elbow and walk to the kitchen, setting the food bags down on the counter.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, my tone cautious as I make my way over to the balcony where James is stood.
Sighing, he rips his fingers through his dark hair. “I lost the magazine contract,” he spits. “All that fucking work. Gone.”
“James…” I trail off when I realise I don’t know what to say.
I put my hand on his shoulder, surprised when he flinches, but then he reaches up and clamps his fingers on mine. “I’ve lost so much fucking money. So much time and effort.”
“There’ll be other magazines,” I say, regretting it immediately when he pulls away from me.
“You don’t get it, Theodore! I’ve fucking failed! I had all these ideas, things that would make my father so fucking proud.”
“He is proud of you.” How could he not be?
“You didn’t even know him.”
Ouch. “Don’t do that. Don’t push me away.”
My gaze falls to the floor while James stalks across the room, slamming his palms down on the kitchen counter. I’ve never seen him this angry and I don’t like it. Risking a glance in his direction, I watch as his restless fingers drum against the black granite. His jaw ticks, the vein in his neck throbs, and I walk tentatively closer to him.
I want to know how he’s feeling, but I can’t decide if I’m more afraid to ask, or of the answer he might give me. Will this send him on a downward spiral? Is this the result of him already being there?
“Stop looking at me like that,” James says, staring me square in the eyes.
“Like what?” Concerned?
“Like you’re wondering if I’m having some kind of depressive episode. I’m allowed to be pissed off sometimes, Theodore, just like everyone else.”
“I know that. I’m sorry, I just…” Frustrated with myself, with him, with this whole fucking situation, I draw in a long breath. “This is new to me.”
Tipping his head back, James sighs. He steps towards me, settling his hands on my waist. “I’m sorry.”
“I guess we still have a lot to talk about.”
“And we will, but let’s eat first.” Pressing his lips to mine, he smiles against my mouth.
When he steps back, I reach for the bags on the counter. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got a selection.”
“Is that chicken fried rice?” he asks when I pull out the first tub. I nod in response. “That’s mine.”
Grinning, I hand him the tub and, after grabbing two forks, he takes it over to the sofa. I follow him with the rest of the food and sit down next to him before peeling the lid off my crispy beef.
“I want you to meet my brother.”
My hand freezes, hovering the forkful of food just inches from my mouth.
“Besides you, Max is the person who knows me best. I think it would be beneficial for you to know each other.”
“You make it sound like a business meeting.”
“You’ll like him. He’s nothing like me.”
“I like you.”
“But you didn’t at first,” he says with a cheeky smile that makes my stomach flutter. “Max is a nice guy. He makes a better first impression than I do.”
“You don’t speak about your mum much.” I didn’t plan to say that, and I wonder if I’ve overstepped the mark. Then, defiantly, I decide there shouldn’t be a mark. We’re a couple. We should share.
“She’s my mum, and I love her, but I’ve never found it easy to talk to her. I’ve always been afraid of her judging me, or thinking I’m weak.”
No parent could think that. Could they? “She knows you’re gay though, right?”
“Yes. She wasn’t exactly thrilled but she accepted it…eventually.”
“Eventually?” Of course I know some parents don’t take the news well, but I can only imagine how that feels. When I told my parents, my mum patted my shoulder and my dad told me not to forget the milk on my way home from school.
“She asked me why, told me how disappointed she was, and then asked me what she did wrong. Now? We just don’t talk about it.”
“How does that work? Have you never introduced her to one of your boyfriends before?”
“You’re my first.” His words tickle something deep inside my chest. “You know, when I was thirteen I made a friend online. The internet was new back then, we were the first out of my friends to get it, and I was so grateful to it because I got to say things I couldn’t say in person.”