Chasing Secrets (Pelican Bay #5) Read Online Sloane Kennedy

Categories Genre: Angst, Contemporary, Insta-Love, M-M Romance Tags Authors: Series: Pelican Bay Series by Sloane Kennedy
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Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 99949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
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I stood and picked up the plate and fork. “No, I’ve got plenty of water in my water bottle upstairs. Good night.”

I turned to leave the kitchen but wasn’t able to make the clean getaway I was hoping for because Ford said, “Theo?”

I stopped and looked over him with as much contentment as I could muster. Fuck, why was it getting so much harder to do this?

Ford watched me for a long time. It looked like he wanted to say something—something important. But he must have picked up on something in my expression because he simply said, “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

The way he said it didn’t sound like a simple statement. It sounded like a question—like would he really see me tomorrow? I couldn’t help but wonder if he somehow knew that I spent every night lying in my bed, my bag packed, just waiting for the sounds of the house to die down as I thought about how to make my escape. But by morning I always woke up facing the open window as a light breeze lifted the thin curtains. The sunlight warmed my skin while the birds kept up a constant chatter that made me smile. And I never once looked at my packed bag until I was forced to get up and dig some clothes out so I could face the new day.

“See you tomorrow,” I confirmed. My voice was sincere and firm at the same time and I actually felt warmth permeate my bones because I’d finally told my friend the truth. Ford visibly relaxed, smiled, and nodded.

Unfortunately, any warmth I’d been feeling was gone by the time I reached the third floor and saw Lincoln’s closed door. I knew he wasn’t on the other side of it, but I couldn’t keep myself from approaching it and knocking. There was no answer, of course, so I tried the knob and found that he hadn’t locked the door. I opened the door cautiously, like I was expecting someone or something to jump out at me. I stepped only a few feet into the room because I didn’t want to invade the man’s privacy. Yet I couldn’t help but stare at the bed I’d spent so much time in as he’d treated me for the infection my overly ambitious use of the razor in the stall of the bus depot bathroom had caused. I could still feel Lincoln’s warm skin against mine, but it had always been too fleeting.

Not today, though.

He’d held my hand today. He’d told me things through his grip that he couldn’t say out loud. At one point he’d even run his thumb over mine. And then when he’d pulled me to my feet and we’d been so close, I swore I’d seen tiny flecks of gold in his sapphire eyes. My entire body had reacted to his closeness but for once, there was nothing in my mind forcing me to shut it down. No physical pain to remind me what I was feeling was wrong, no endless repetitions of scriptures until I lost the use of my voice, no memory of sitting in my own filth in a dark closet as my stomach screamed for food.

No, all I’d felt was the need for him to touch me, to kiss me, to whisper things in my ear that no one had ever said to me. I’d needed… him.

And he’d apparently needed someone else.

The proof of that was currently in front of me. An empty bed. The reality of knowing Lincoln was in someone else’s bed was like a slap to the face. I quickly did what I’d come into the room to do and set the plate with the cake on it on his nightstand. I barely remembered to leave the fork before hurrying out of the room and quietly closing the door behind me.

Before I even reached my own door, I was desperately snapping the band on my wrist, but the prick of pain wasn’t enough.

Not nearly enough.

I could feel the sting of tears as I dealt with the loss of something I’d never really even had. I ripped the band off my wrist and flung it aside as I entered my room, bypassed my bed and went straight to the bathroom where I’d left my shaving kit.

A hair tie.

A fucking hair tie!

As I searched through my bag for the pack of razor blades I knew would be there, my eyes caught on one of the black elastic bands on the vanity that Lincoln tied his hair back with every day. I remembered the moment he’d placed the one I’d just removed on my wrist. God, in what world had I been living when I’d allowed myself to hope that a round piece of elastic would ever be enough to take the place of the only thing I truly needed in my life?


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