Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Prescott breaks eye contact with me and glances away. It’s something he does when he thinks he’s in trouble or knows he’s done something wrong.
“What is it?” I ask. “What are you hiding?”
“Well … it hasn’t been one conversation. Brady and I … talk.”
“You talk?”
“On the phone. It started a couple of months ago after another failed attempt at taking someone home. I drunkenly called him and said he’d ruined for me all other college boys.”
I try not to let the sting show. “To be fair, you are getting older, and college guys are getting younger.”
“That doesn’t make sense. They’re not getting younger, but I am getting older, and young guys don’t do it for me anymore. I think I’m … Growing up? Ergh. Kill me now.”
“You’re only about fifteen years too late, but I’m so glad you finally hit adulthood.”
“I’m proud of me too.”
Silence falls, and as I guzzle down my shake, I can’t help thinking about Prescott, Brady, and their phone calls.
Both our phones sound at the same time, and while that could’ve been work related when we lived together and were on the same SEAL team, it can only be one person now.
We smile at each other and both say, “Brady.”
Prescott’s phone is beside him, so he grabs it, and we share his screen. As suspected, it’s our group chat, and seeing that Brady texted both of us, it eases the doubt that tried to take root over their friendship outside of our arrangement.
He opens the message, and there’s a video attached with the caption: Look what you made me do at work! I’d planned not to look and I failed.
And when Prescott presses Play, we’re rewarded with a quick ten-second clip of Brady’s hand jerking his amazing cock in what looks like a bathroom stall. If it were me, I would’ve stopped recording before the money shot to be a big ol’ tease, but Brady’s too nice to tease, and when cum explodes all over his hand and some on the bathroom stall wall, my cock tries to get back up again but can’t. Prescott’s is still down for the count too, even though he lets out a groan of want and licks his lips as he watches the video again.
“Question,” I say. “Why did you think I’d be mad that you and Brady have been talking? Not gonna lie, it … well, no, it doesn’t sting, but I guess …” I miss talking to you too. Yeah, don’t say that. “You and I just had sex without Brady. You guys are allowed to talk—”
Prescott puts his phone on the coffee table and turns to me. “I dunno. Since you moved across the country, it’s not like you were returning my phone calls, so I stopped calling. And with Brady, we can talk like we used to when we lived together.”
I wish I could tell him why I stopped taking his calls—I thought that space, this new position, and three thousand miles would make the longing hurt less—but I can’t do that without putting it all out there, and what the hell good would that do? It’s the same internal fight every single time. The same problems. They’re not going away with distance.
“I miss living with you, if that’s any consolation.”
“When are you going to return to active duty already? Come hoooome.”
I rub my jaw. “I, uh, I’ve actually been offered a promotion.”
“I don’t care if you come back with a higher rank than me and you get to boss me around.”
“It’s a civilian leader in charge of training operations at the Pentagon.”
“Whoa, wait. Civilian? You’re leaving the navy altogether? Why? How is that a promotion?”
“Because it’s a lot more money. And I like Virginia.”
Prescott mock gasps. “You bite your tongue. No West Coast boy is allowed to like the East Coast. I’m offended on behalf of all your people.”
Hey, if he’s joking, at least he’s not yelling at me for wanting to stay where I am.
“It’s a good opportunity for me,” I say.
He grits his teeth. “Then I’m happy for you.”
“Yeah, you’re really selling that. Look, I miss you too, but it’s not like we’re … It’s not … you know …” My throat goes dry.
“It’s not like we’re what? Friends anymore? Yeah, you’ve made that clear.” Prescott stands, but I grab hold of his forearm.
“That’s not it. I miss you, I do. I miss hanging out with you, talking to you whenever I want, being with you and shooting the shit. I’ve missed all of that more than I’ve missed the sex.”
He huffs and slumps back down onto the couch. “My dick is offended.”
“What if I make it up to him with another blowjob?”
“Damn it,” he whines. “I want to say yes, but little Pres isn’t cooperating.”
“Next time, then.”
He turns to me, his deep brown gaze cutting through me. “Which will be when exactly? You have to head back to port soon, don’t you?”