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)
One of us had to take that step, and it happened to be Kit.
He breaks the awkward eye contact first. He puts his hands in his pockets and glances around the open-plan living room and up the stairs to the right. “I am interested to see how Brady lives.”
Now he’s the one deflecting, but I’m not an asshole like he is, and I’m not going to call him on it.
“You want to go to his room and see if he has clothes all over his floor here too, don’t you?”
“Of course I do. I don’t believe anyone can be a slob like that twenty-four seven. He wasn’t even staying in our cabin in the Catskills, and he still managed to get everything everywhere. He can’t be like that all the time, can he?”
“Only one way to find out …” I nod toward the staircase.
Kit hesitates and bites his lip. It’s so sexy when he does it. It’s his only physical tell when he’s not sure about something. He’s always so confident.
I reach for his hand. “Come on. I’ll lead you.”
At that moment, the door opens and Brady steps through. “Pey?” He calls out and stalls when he sees us. His eyes widen. He glances around as if asking himself if he stepped into the right house, but all he says is, “Am I dreaming? When Four texted that I had someone waiting at home for me, I thought Peyton and his boyfriend came home from their vacation early.”
I knew his cousin had a number for a name.
Kit smiles. “We wanted to surprise you.”
Brady looks dumbfounded. “How … How did you know where I live?”
“You don’t remember my care package I sent? I kept that information in my back pocket for if I ever needed it, and it turns out we did.”
“Oh, right. The kale chips. How could I forget. Still mad at you for that, by the way.” Finally, the shock wears off, and he approaches us with his arms wide. “I can’t believe you’re both here.”
The second the three of us are wrapped around each other, it’s relief and happiness. It’s sunshine after a rainstorm. It’s clarity in my heart and calmness of my mind.
I’m beginning to realize that zing, that powerful and overwhelming feeling of serenity and peace only happens when we’re all together.
The only time I’ve felt this alive in the last two years has been with them. Not out at sea like it used to be. That thought also makes my heart sink. Because after we’ve gotten our fill this weekend, we’ll all go home again.
Every time I see Kit and Brady, the harder it is to be apart.
Suddenly, instead of enjoying both of them, instead of reveling in being wrapped in their arms, I’m drowning in anticipated loneliness.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
brady
Damn, it’s surreal having Kit and Prescott in my house. They’re here. In New York.
I pull back. “How long are you here for?”
“Only the weekend,” Kit says.
“Unfortunately,” Prescott adds. “We wanted to try to organize something longer, but this was a last-minute thing. We took what we could get.”
I hold on to Pres a little bit tighter. How military spouses do this is beyond me. I got used to talking to Prescott frequently when we’ve been apart, but the last six months has been barely any communication due to him being away.
“I missed you,” I say.
I’ve missed both of them, but it weirdly hits the hardest when they’re right in front of me.
“Let’s take this upstairs,” Kit says, and fuck yes—oh, shit, no, wait. It’s a mess up there.
“Hold that thought,” I say. “I need to … do something first. Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
As I turn on my heel and run upstairs, I hear Kit say, “Note to us: Brady’s not good with surprises.”
“That just means we have to surprise him more,” Prescott says.
The idea of them coming back to me, over and over … I almost can’t take it. I want them so badly, but I’m scared of the mess they’ll leave when one of us has the guts to finally end this.
I shut myself in my room and hurry to tidy up. Kit hates mess to the point he’s weird about it.
The knock on my door makes me jump.
“Is everything okay in there?” Kit asks.
“Uh-huh. I’m …” Cleaning my room? Could I sound more like a five-year-old? “I’m …” I go with the first thing that pops into my head. “I’m breaking up with someone!” I facepalm because I’m not even seeing anyone. I don’t date. It’s hard to when my heart belongs elsewhere.
“You’re what?” The door handle jiggles, and I rush over to make sure it’s locked, which it is.
“Oh, I’m seeing this guy, but it’s no big deal. I was going to break up with him anyway.” Mainly because he’s imaginary.
“You don’t need to do that,” Prescott says. “We know the score.”