Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Oh, now I got it. He was probably thinking ahead to taking over the family business and wanted to be taken seriously. It seemed like he was feeling a little insecure about it, so I wrote: You’re the type of man who commands authority no matter what. I wouldn’t worry about the glasses.
His last text said: Thanks for taking the time to help me out. I’ll talk to you soon.
I really liked the fact that he’d messaged me. It was obviously more about reaching out and involving me in his life than actually needing my help, and I was all for building that friendship…or whatever it was.
That evening, Lark and Dylan cooked a huge spaghetti feast for the Pink Victorian Crew. The household was establishing a new tradition—taking turns cooking dinner and gathering together for a communal meal on Sunday nights, to give us all a chance to touch base. Eliot and I were teaming up to prepare a meal the following weekend, and we were seriously considering ordering pizza, since neither of us was much of a cook.
As was often the case lately, the conversation turned to Yolanda and JoJo’s wedding. Even though the couple had wanted to keep it small and relatively simple, there were still a lot of details to wrap up, and we were all helping. JoJo had decided it would be fun to give out party favors, so ideas were being tossed out for what that should be.
I was only half-participating, because Owen was making the most extraordinary mess with the chopped up pasta I’d given him. I kept trying to wipe his mouth to keep him from turning himself into an Oompa Loompa with the tomato sauce, and he was very much opposed to my efforts. Because I was so wrapped up in this task, it caught me off guard when JoJo said, “You know, you’re welcome to bring a guest to the wedding, Logan.”
I looked up and found everyone’s attention on me. “I assumed Eliot and I were teaming up for the wedding, as the two single guys in our household.”
“Actually, I’m bringing a friend—one of my coworkers from the library,” Eliot told me.
I tried another excuse. “The baby’s going to keep me super busy. I need to make sure he doesn’t face-plant in the cake, and so on.”
“It’s up to you,” JoJo told me, as she refilled her fiancée’s wine glass. “I was just thinking since you started seeing someone, you might like to invite him.”
“Thanks for the offer, but can I leave it as a maybe for now? Things with this guy are still brand new, and I’d like to wait and see where we are in a month.”
JoJo told me that was fine. The conversation returned to the topic of party favors, and I resigned myself to having an orange baby and turned my attention to my dinner. While I ate, I tried to imagine what Lucky’s reaction would be if I invited him to an event that was six weeks away. He’d probably say yes just to be polite, but he also might find it odd that I was assuming we’d still be dating in mid-June.
It was tempting to invite him, though. Really tempting. I tried to imagine Lucky dressed up, which was actually pretty tough to picture. I also imagined dancing together at the reception. That would be so nice. I could practically feel his hand on my back and his body pressed against mine as we moved to the music.
Okay, so I was definitely going to invite him to the wedding, but not yet. Like so much of life, timing was everything.
Chapter 6
I found myself daydreaming about Lucky at random times—and some that weren’t so random. When I was alone in the shower every morning, those daydreams often turned into fantasies and I’d find myself getting achingly hard.
Since I had so little privacy, this was usually my only opportunity to jerk off. It wasn’t always successful though, since I was acutely aware I was tying up a bathroom shared by five people, and coming under pressure took a lot of the fun out of it. If I couldn’t finish in about five minutes, I just had to give up and live with the frustration.
I thought about Lucky at night too, but these thoughts were surprisingly chaste. Mostly, I just imagined him beside me in bed, holding me while I fell asleep. Sometimes that led to dreaming about him, and I’d wake up with an odd kind of longing I really wasn’t used to.
Meanwhile, Lucky texted me once or twice a day. Asking my opinion had turned into a running joke between the two of us, and the stuff he came up with never failed to put a smile on my face.
One day, he was out clothes shopping and sent me a photo of two identical white T-shirts, asking if option A or option B was the better choice. He had me laughing out loud the day he went to the grocery store and came up with all kinds of side-by-side comparisons for me to choose from. The best one was a pair of eggplants, one short and fat, the other long and thin. That led to several minutes of dick innuendoes.