Finding Ian (Finding #2) Read Online Riley Hart

Categories Genre: BDSM, Erotic, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Finding Series by Riley Hart
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Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 100301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
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“You suck.”

“You know Jordan is crazy about you, right? I see it when you guys are here together.”

“Ugh. I’m not good at this, Peyton. You know that.”

“Well, we’re getting you better at it, and you talk to me because it helps me talk to you…we both know that.” They shoved their hands in their pockets, leaned against the wall, and looked down. They were right. If I talked, Peyton usually talked, and I wanted to help them. They were my friend.

I walked over to one of the boxes and sat down on top of it. With my elbows on my knees, it was me who looked at the floor then. “What if it’s me?”

“It’s not you. Again, I see the two of you together.”

“I just…” I didn’t want it to go away—none of it—David, Jordan, the center, working on the rental. I was just waiting to lose it.

“Why don’t you ask him?” Peyton said.

“He said it’s because of his grandma.”

“Which you automatically take to mean it’s about you. That makes sense.”

I playfully flipped them off. “David gets it. I don’t. He tells Jordan we want him there, but we understand, and he just needs to know the offer is there. I want him to tell Jordan he has to do it.” Which David said he couldn’t do at all, even as Jordan’s Daddy. He’d been working with me on stuff like that too, trying to teach me about dominating, since I did it with Jordan sometimes.

Peyton came over and sat on the floor in front of me. “David’s right, ya know? My mom…I mean, I know it’s different, but she used to always push me. Even when I was young and didn’t understand what was going on with me, when she’d insist I was a girl and I’d tell her I wasn’t. She took me to a doctor, who said I might be experiencing gender dysphoria, but she wouldn’t listen. Just kept pushing and pushing until I ran.”

“I’m sorry,” I told them, suddenly feeling stupid. That was a real problem—running away from home and a parent who tried to change you—not the fact that I had two boyfriends and one didn’t want to move in.

God, that was weird to think. I had two guys I could have sex with and laugh with anytime I wanted, yet I was mad that one of them didn’t officially live with us, even though he spent most of his nights in our bed.

“I didn’t tell you that to be sorry. It was just my lead-in.”

Ah, that made sense. Still, I was sorry. “Well, it wasn’t right, what your mom did. You’re you, and you know who you are better than anyone else.” Their mom had found them when they were sixteen but said they could only come home if they went to therapy and used the she pronoun, and they couldn’t do it. They were twenty now, having been on their own ever since. They were so damn strong. “Did you see him again? Is that what you’re leading into?”

“Yes,” they replied. “He said he was sorry, and he wants me back.”

“He doesn’t deserve to get you back.” They had an ex-boyfriend. He was older and, if you asked me, took advantage of them because they were vulnerable. He’d never hit Peyton, but he’d been verbally abusive and possessive and didn’t want Peyton to have friends.

“He said he loves me.” Peyton fiddled with a hole in the knee of their jeans.

“That’s not love. You deserve better than someone who makes you feel bad about yourself.”

“What if no one else accepts me? At least he did. At least he didn’t expect me to be male or female.”

“No, no. That still doesn’t mean love. There are tons of people out there who will love you for who you are.”

Peyton wiped a tear from their face. “Ugh. You’re right. I just had a moment of weakness. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Let’s talk about you. Your stuff is way more fun.”

I wasn’t going to let it go that easily. If nothing else, I had to make sure, “You’re safe, right? He doesn’t know you’re staying here?”

“No.” They shook their head. “He doesn’t know.”

Peyton stood, and I could tell the conversation was over. I couldn’t stop worrying, though. Peyton deserved someone to help them; they deserved something good in their life. It was only because of my friendship with Finley that I had what I did now—Jordan and David, a home, working on a house as a job, volunteering. I wanted Peyton to have someone give them a chance too. I was determined to figure it out.

“So…you’re meeting David’s family this weekend. Are you shitting your pants?” they asked, and I groaned.

“You have no idea.”

Peyton grinned. “Better you than me.” Then they asked, “Are you working at the house today? Do you need any help?”


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