Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73817 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73817 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
“You wished you were one of them?”
“I’d never admit it out loud, but …” He chuckles. “I guess so. Yes. That’s my fleeting dream.”
I slide my hand into his, weaving our fingers together. It draws him from his thoughts and brings him right to me, where he meets my eyes.
I smirk. “Not so much a dream anymore, huh?”
Cooper gazes at me with curiosity.
Of course that’s how we end the night: two lost souls, far from lost anymore, walking along the boardwalk with the water crashing below our feet. Hand-in-hand, we stroll along the planks of creaking wood as the sun sets beyond the water, with the bright and glittering storefronts of the Quicksilver Strand at our backs. It feels like a dream.
This place is really living up to its name.
When we stop by the banister to share a kiss, I realize I’m standing in a paradise where all of my troubles are so far away, I wonder if I ever had them in the first place. Paradise isn’t just for the deep-pocketed or deserving. It’s wherever you find it. In a kiss shared on a boardwalk. In the cool waves lapping at your feet. In the breeze caught in your hair. In a place called Dreamwood Isle, a paradise set aside just for me and Cooper.
A place where my life can finally begin.
Chapter 11 - Cooper
I stare at Seany from the desk, conflicted.
He looks so peaceful sleeping on my bed, cuddling a body-length pillow I think he believes is me. I wonder when was the last time he had a weekend like this—safe, fed, happy.
I should be feeling good. I should be happy, too.
But then I think about him hanging out with Toby. And Vann. And other boys his age, who are all over the island. I think about what a happy and fulfilled life for Seany could really look like, if he’d just see it himself.
But does that happy life still include me?
Is he just using me to feel better about life again?
Or am I using him to fill the voids in my own?
It’s only been one weekend. I know how young hearts wander. He thinks he’s happy now. He thinks he’s won the lottery with a man like me.
But he will get used to this, no matter how much he insists he won’t. He will start to notice other men. His eyes will catch other eyes. He will start to wonder.
My house will start to feel like a cage.
I will go from being his daddy to being his dad.
He doesn’t know this yet. He’s still floating high up in the clouds. But I’ve seen enough, I’ve lived long enough, and I know human nature.
I couldn’t help but think about this all night, watching him working the Easy Breezy, getting along with both the locals and vacationers, making his job look like a breeze, pun intended. He didn’t notice, but I kept staring at him as I worked the bar, torturing myself with thoughts.
Long-term thoughts.
Realistic thoughts.
Feet-on-the-ground thoughts.
Is it foolish to expect this to actually last between us?
I should enjoy whatever this is for as long as it dares to last—and fight my own human nature to selfishly keep the boy all to myself. Seany deserves someone who will truly keep his best interest in mind, not just another leeching demon who will use him for his pretty face.
No matter how tempting it might be to do just that in my weakest moment.
Like when he talked me into bottoming for him, and I was nothing but clay in his hands.
Like earlier this evening, when the pair of us walked hand-in-hand on the boardwalk, at last fulfilling one of my lifetime fantasies.
Like right now, listening to him sleep, and feeling my heart crushing inward with hope.
Hope is deadly.
I head outside through the back door, step out onto the porch, and listen to the waves crash. Only the pale starlight provides evidence of their existence as I drift away with the rolling waves, my mind afloat on an imaginary raft, hoping an answer comes.
But it isn’t an answer that comes. “Can’t sleep?”
I turn to find Seany standing at the sliding glass door, in only another pair of boxer-briefs I gave him, which hide nothing. It seems to be the last thing on his mind as he studies me with concern, his pretty eyes glistening in the porch light.
“Nothing you need to worry about. It’s common.”
“Common? You’re an insomniac?”
“My mind never shuts off.” I turn back to the waves crashing in the semidarkness. “Go back to bed, Seany.”
He comes up to the banister instead. “Something is weird with you. I can tell. I know you.”
I’m compelled to laugh at that. “You know me? Seany, you’ve known me for the better part of a weekend.”
“I can know a person after one hour.”
“That so?”
“I know whether they’re good or bad.”