Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
I started off down the road and Shawn leaned back. I showed him how the M3 rolled, and after a little while he was smiling and nodding, enjoying it as we headed off into the night.
“Okay,” he said. “I admit it. I get it now.”
“Feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Feels pretty fucking great. Definitely different than my beast of a truck.”
“Now you’re glad I’m driving you back,” I said.
He let out a breath. “I’m really glad, actually,” he said. “It wasn’t just a long day. I also barely got any sleep last night.”
“Was something up?”
“No,” he said. “Just woke up from a nightmare around two in the morning and couldn’t get back to sleep.”
“Poor thing.”
“I needed a cuddle buddy there to lull me back to sleep,” he said, and when I glanced over at him he was giving me a cute, dimpled grin.
“I’d suck you back to sleep, more likely.”
“Such a rule breaker.”
“Guilty as charged,” I said. “When I make the rules, sometimes I break ‘em.”
We lapsed into a comfortable silence as I drove him back to his house. It was surprising, actually, how comfortable I felt alone with Shawn.
Often, I always felt like I had to be an entertainer, in one way or another. At the brewery, I was a bit of a showman, pulling from the tap with a flourish or mixing cocktails in a flashy way. With hookups, I always wanted to keep a conversation rolling, and not let too much silence come between us.
But with Shawn, I just felt calm. Turned on, too, of course, because being anywhere in the same room as him had become a surefire way to get me hard.
I didn’t feel like I had to “perform,” though. I just had to be myself. I knew Shawn liked me, and I knew I liked him. It was simple. And it felt really, really good, even if it was unfamiliar. It was the same way I’d felt all night—completely at home with the whole Wood family.
Almost comfortable enough to think I could see myself in Jade River. Actually living here. Belonging here, in a weird way. And that was a fucking strange idea.
“Almost there,” I said softly as we approached his house, but when I looked over, his head was leaned over against the door and his eyes were closed. He’d been fast asleep for at least a few minutes, probably.
I felt the corners of my lips tugging into a smile. I was kind of glad Shawn wasn’t awake to see my goofy grin.
Good. He needed sleep. And for some reason, it made me stupid happy to see him all adorable and dozed off like that.
As I pulled up to his house a few minutes later, I cut the engine and the M3’s purr gently faded. Shawn shifted a little in place and I reached out, gently smoothing his hair with my hand.
“Shit. Sorry,” he muttered, suddenly sitting up straight as he blinked awake.
“Don’t apologize,” I said, keeping my voice low and even. “You’re home.”
He nodded once, his eyes still a little droopy with sleep. I got out of the car to walk him inside. I had only seen the outside of Shawn’s house once before, about a week ago when Nathan and I had carpooled to pick him up on the way to look at tile samples, but I’d never been inside.
“God, I’ve got to pee,” he said as we walked in. “I’ll be right back.”
As I looked around the small entry and stepped into his living room, I swore I’d just entered the coziest place I’d ever been. It was like the opposite of the modern, slick place I’d lived in during my time in San Francisco—and certainly a lot more put-together than my dad’s place I’d just inherited.
Shawn’s house instantly felt like a warm hug. I flipped on a lamp in the living room and saw more paintings on the wall that he must have done himself. He had bookshelves and plenty of picture frames and a vintage rug over his nice hardwood floor. He had plants, which was something I’d never even tried to attempt, with my horrible track record keeping them alive. And it looked like he’d built so many of the features into the house himself, and had done a killer job at it, from the crown molding to the shelves to a bay window at the side of the room, complete with pillows that made it a perfect little reading nook.
He clearly knew how to make a house into a home. Which was something I’d never felt able to do.
In fact, being in here already felt homier than any expensive place I’d ever lived in.
“God, I don’t ever want to leave this place,” I told Shawn as he emerged from the bathroom.
“I hope this isn’t rude, but I’ve got to crash into bed,” Shawn said. “I’m sorry to be boring.”