Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 60487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
LOVE.
The mirror swung open, and there was the lobby.
They’d done it.
They were one step from freedom.
“We must cross this strange place in order to get to the other side.”
L. Frank Baum
The Wonderful Wizard of Oz
Chapter Fifteen
To say Sage was elated they’d finished before the witches . . . would be an understatement. She was so thrilled she invited Carl and Grayson to a celebratory dinner.
“They’ll be drowning in coffee!”
Her good mood was infectious, and soon they were all laughing over tiramisu and Grayson’s knees were knocking against Carl’s under the table. Each knock sent a small spark through his middle; at one point, it was so strong he held his breath. Something Grayson seemed to notice—he slipped his hand over Carl’s knee and gave him a reassuring squeeze.
Carl glanced at him. Glared.
Grayson barely swallowed a cocky smirk.
When dinner was over and they returned to the ute, Carl rubbed clammy palms over his still-tingling knees and side-eyed Grayson.
He was feeling particularly shivery and a whole lot of his body wanted more of those sparks, but there was a bit of brain flashing a warning sign. Grayson had become a friend, someone Carl loved talking to, going to the beach with, enjoying bike rides together. Could he keep that—even if long-distance—if they let this spiral out of control?
On the other hand, getting it out of their systems could be considered . . . mutual healing. They’d both been nursing hurt hearts for far too long. This infatuation with one another might be a step towards moving on, and who better to share this part of the journey with than someone they trusted?
A soft rumble hit Carl’s ear. “Why’re you biting your lip like that?”
Carl jumped in his seat. Red from the traffic light beamed over Grayson’s face, those dark eyes trained on Carl’s lips . . .
He swallowed and Grayson swept his gaze upwards. The air crackled. Nerves shot from his stomach to the base of his throat, and his voice came out gravelly. “Let’s deal with these feelings.”
“Yes.” He said it simply and easily, and Carl’s heart thundered.
“At your house?”
“Where there’ll only be Carl.”
Those words were butterflies in his belly; they made him restless and itchy.
Since they’d woken in a tangle of limbs, this feeling had been growing—and wildly out of control, at that. Every other shared look between them held curiosity and little zings of awareness. And after that kiss . . .
His whole body craved connection.
Grayson parked outside his house, on a not-particularly-dignified angle, and turned off the engine. In seconds he was out of the ute, coming around and opening Carl’s door. Carl climbed out, breath hitching as Grayson cuffed a hand around his wrist and pulled him aside as he shut the door. Carl laughed nervously. “Why’re you helping me out of the truck?”
Grayson’s dark gaze hooked Carl deeply, his voice also rumbling with nerves. “Perhaps I’m afraid you’ll run away?”
Carl took Grayson’s wrist and pulled him until he folded forward. He brushed their lips together, a lingering, ticklish touch under a darkened sky. “Take me home.”
“I think we should do this with the lights on.”
“To better see me,” Grayson agreed, eliciting a light whack from Carl.
“No, I just can’t do it under a creepy puppeteer.”
A tut. “You and this picture.”
Carl laughed, and they fell onto the bed in a limb-tangling embrace. He kissed the smirk quirking Grayson’s lips and outlined his nose with the tip of a blunt finger. The room was cool from having a window cracked open an inch, and the fresh scent of nature seeped into the room. The moment they’d stepped inside Grayson’s house, they’d been a flurry of movement down the hall, stripping off shoes and jackets and pants and all their outer layers. And now Grayson lay under him in soft boxers and a shirt so thin it might not be defined as a shirt at all. Carl could see everything through it.
He swallowed a satisfied smile and wrapped himself tighter around Grayson’s heady warmth. His thighs practically burned against Carl’s. Even where their toes pressed—and fought—was warm. Nothing, of course, was hotter than Grayson’s black gaze boring into him.
Last night, he’d noticed this feeling. Carl had wondered how much had been in his head. But he wasn’t imagining this, the mutual sparks. And tonight, they were burning brighter.
Carl inhaled the cooler breath of nature and then burrowed his face into the crook of Grayson’s neck to breathe in the thick taste of musk and salt. Ridiculous, how good he smelled. Even more ridiculous how easy it felt, rubbing himself all over Grayson. Like . . . like they’d never not done this. Both extremely comfortable, and extremely exciting. Honestly, his heart was tripping on itself just with this.
Healing, absolutely.
They battled with their bright magenta toes, the slight shifts a pleasant pressure where their lengths rubbed.