Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
“Check.”
“Stop! He said some things that I couldn’t really tell if they were compliments or not. Like they sounded like the kinds of things you’d only say to someone if you were interested, but I could tell he wasn’t, and it was just…very weird. I was actually kind of surprised at one point because I realized he was saying all these things, and the thought of something happening between us kind of freaked me out. Not that anything would happen because he wouldn’t want me like that, but I don’t know. I’m used to things heading that direction, so it’s what popped in my mind when he was saying that shit. If anything, I like to think we could be friends after this…who maybe have sex occasionally.”
“Check, check, check!”
“How is any of that check?”
“A guy you had impossibly hot sex with who you also could be friends with? Isn’t that what a boyfriend is?”
“No. A boyfriend is a lot more than that, and you know it.”
“Whatever.”
“And as fun as it can be, he’s kinda full of himself.”
“But you like it.”
I feel my cheeks redden. “Yeah.”
His blond brows rise as though he’s wise to some secret I’m keeping.
“No,” I say. “It’s nice to have fucked and still be able to hang without having all those awful things that come with being in a relationship. Having someone check up on you constantly. Texting to see where you are. Wondering why you didn’t bring them back anything from Starbucks. Shouting because you forgot to pay the electric bill.”
“How does anyone forget to pay the electric bill anymore? Don’t you auto draft that shit?”
“I forgot to renew it one time,” I say, my irritation with Peter from our past argument resurfacing.
His eyes are wide, as though he’s surprised by how much that bothered me.
“Hmm. Maybe I can see your point now,” he says. “But you had to have thought about it.”
“Derek, if a guy so much as glances at me on the street, I guarantee you five minutes later, I’ve dreamt about our future life together with kids and a Notebook-style happily-ever-after. So, yeah, I’ve thought about it, but it’s not what I want right now, so this thing we’re doing kind of works out perfectly.”
“Okay,” Derek says with a shrug. “I’m eager to see how long you guys can keep this up. I actually see it as a great experiment. Let’s put two, incredibly attractive…well, one moderately attractive and one insanely attractive guy together…who don’t want to kill each other…who have mind-blowing sex…and let’s see what happens, shall we?”
“I’m not fighting with you about this.”
He smirks. “Only thing you’re fighting is lurve.”
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t. Now, is my fucking laptop good to go or what?”
I finish removing the viruses, and as usual, there were a shit-ton, so it takes another hour, meaning I need to dash and scramble to get ready for dinner tonight.
I sweat as I’m getting dressed because I’m a little nervous about perpetuating this act with Steven and his partner. It’s one thing to parade around town as a couple. Even if we were just friends, people would make their own assumptions, so that hasn’t been hard. Actually having to lie to people face-to-face is a whole other thing.
I button up my shirt in the mirror behind the sink in the bathroom before fixing my hair.
We’re meeting at Two Urban Licks. It’s a nicer restaurant, so I have to dress up a bit, and I think it’ll be good for Travis to be dressed up for the occasion. I bet when Steven sees him looking more professional for a change, it’ll instill some confidence in him about investing in Travis.
While I’m texting him about coming over, my phone starts ringing. It’s Dad. I answer quickly.
“Hey, just checking in to see how you are,” he says.
“I’m good. Look, I have this thing tonight I’m getting ready for. Do you mind if I call you guys back later?”
“What are you going to?”
“Just out with some friends.”
Another lie. One of millions I’ve told my parents. To keep them from knowing about this life I live. About who I really am. To hide everything I know they’d be ashamed of. God, to think what they’d say if they knew the truth about tonight.
“Your mother and I would love it if you could make some time to swing by and have dinner with us this weekend. Your mom wants to hear about how things are going at work and with your friends.”
I love my parents, but dinners with them are exhausting since most of my energy is spent on crafting lies to keep them from ever suspecting the truth about who I am. “I don’t know about this weekend, but we’ll catch up soon.”
A knock at the door. “Oh, that’s my friend, Dad. I’ll call you back later, okay?”