Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 70368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“Jesus.” His expression went from uncomfortable to pained. “Don’t say those kinds of things, Zeb.”
“Why not? It’s true. And I saw you watching me dance.” That, along with his perpetually single status, had given me almost a decade’s worth of hope. “Maybe you’re not as straight as you’ve always thought.”
“You’re fun to watch. I like your…enthusiasm. In all things.” Atlas Orion, smooth military operator, blushed. Like legit pink cheeks and all. “But I can’t have sex with you no matter how old you are. You’re still my best friend’s little brother. He’d have a fit.”
“Gabe is too busy worrying about everything else to care what we get up to in private here.” I gestured with my slice of pizza. “I’m not suggesting he needs to know. But we’ve got a month, right?” I wasn’t under any illusion that I could talk Atlas into more than that. He was married to the navy, and I was tied to Kringle’s Crossing, and those were the facts. But also facts? Our combustible chemistry. “A month is more than enough time to see whether all sex is underwhelming for you, which would be fine. Maybe you’re some flavor of ace, and then we shake hands and go back to being buddies. Or maybe I’m right, and you just haven’t had sex with the right person yet.”
“The right person being you.” Tilting his head, Atlas looked down at me.
“Well, I am here.” I spread my hands wide. “And a fantastic kisser.”
“You’re not going to let me forget that, are you?”
“Nope.” I grinned at him, then turned more serious. “But I’m also not going to twist your arm. You want to have sex, test my theory? You know where I live.”
I didn’t want to merely wear him down and talk him into having a fling with me. That wouldn’t be at all cool. I wanted him to want this too.
“Because I live here too. At least for now.” He groaned, back to looking pained. His gaze darted over my shoulder toward my front door. “Jesus. I need air. I’m going for a walk.”
He pushed away from the table, leaving one piece of pizza half-eaten. I could beg him to stay and eat more. And talk. But Atlas was a grown adult, and if he needed time to think, I could offer him space. He knew this town enough that I wasn’t too worried about him getting lost.
“Don’t forget your jacket,” I called after him as he strode toward the door. “And gloves. It’s cold out there.”
He glanced back over his shoulder, and the strangest expression crossed his face. His eyes widened like he was surprised, but the rest of his features softened, a tenderness I hadn’t seen from him before. The rare display of emotion from him made it easier to watch him walk away.
I trusted he’d be back before bed, and perhaps the thinking time afforded by a long, cold walk would warm him up to the idea of a hot experiment with me. And if not, well, I’d tried. I wasn’t going to regret making the offer, but I also wasn’t going to be a jerk if he didn’t want to take me up on it.
Atlas was gone longer than I’d expected. Even given his military levels of fitness, it was still a damn chilly night. Resigned, I made up the saggy air mattress with a spare pair of sheets and a comforter. As I added a pillow from my bed, Atlas finally arrived back. I hadn’t bothered locking the door, and he didn’t knock as he walked back in, stopping by the closet to peel off his gloves and jacket.
“How was the walk?” I yawned like I’d been the one trekking across town.
“Cold.” Voice grim, he frowned down at the air bed. “You’re sleeping out here?”
“Figured it was for the best. I don’t want to pressure you.” I kept my tone pragmatic. He didn’t need a guilt trip or the weight of my disappointment. “I want to have a good time with you, not be a huge regret. You want something. All you need to do is ask.”
“I can’t.” He said it simply, no extra emotion, but the pain in his eyes said it all for him. He’d wrestled with the decision. Face still pink from the cold, he rubbed his arms. I wanted to warm him up in the worst way, but I needed to respect his choice.
“Okay.” I kept my voice low and measured. “Goodnight, Atlas. Sleep well.”
“You too.” He paused for what seemed like the longest second on record, gaze darting back and forth between me and the air mattress. Finally, he sighed heavily and headed to my room.
Click went the door, and with it, my hopes of getting lucky that night with Atlas. And probably ever, given how resigned he’d sounded.