Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 55099 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 275(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55099 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 275(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
“Oooh, things can happen in saunas,” Nora teased.
I smiled, though it left me with a pinch of unease. Ash was big on loyalty, so I assumed this couple was looking for a third rather than one of them going behind the back of the other.
Ash lifted his brows. “That fucker certainly tried, but he was awkward about it. Nothin’ happened, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
Did he, though?
As much as I hoped he and Nathan would find their way back to each other, I felt the need to point something out.
“You’re single, honey.”
He shook his head and rose to his feet with Paws in his grasp. “You know I’m not. I’ve tried, but…”
I understood. Being technically single didn’t mean things felt that way.
“Just putting this out there,” Nora said, sitting forward. “You and Nathan—two Doms. Your neighbors, a sub and a switch…? Can we do the math?”
“And that’s the fuckin’ idea I don’t need in my head,” Ash told her. “I gotta get home. You text me if your mood tanks, understood? You’re obligated to tell Penelope everything, but I gotta know too.”
She nodded and smashed her lips together. It was clear she wanted to press the issue, but it wasn’t wise. I knew firsthand how he could withdraw from a situation if shit got too personal.
“I understand, Sir,” she replied.
“I’ll keep an eye on her.” I didn’t want him to feel like he was bailing. The beating hadn’t been part of our original plan, and he was needed at home. But Nora wasn’t alone, and Ash had already gone above and beyond to make the Game a fun experience for Nora.
Friday flew by in a whirl of event preparations and processing my developing feelings. Part of me thought it was going too fast, but then I looked around the property and saw all the friends who’d found new partners this year. They hadn’t hesitated to run with it.
I opened up to some of them about it too, and I could always count on Colt to spread his wings of wisdom.
“Hon, you’re trained to spot red flags. If she ain’t raisin’ any, fuckin’ go. That’s what Luke and I did with Kit. Some call it a gut feelin’, some call it chemistry—but you feel when it’s right.”
It did feel awfully right with Nora.
It was like I could breathe for the first time in I didn’t know how many years.
River’s advice was as brief as it was solid—as usual.
“Fuck it. No risk, no reward.”
There was one more friend I wanted to talk to, though, and I caught up to him as he was heading down to his cabin.
For some reason, Greer was on his own today—or maybe his partners were arriving later. Greer had shown up in his utility kilt, which explained the catcalls from the pool. Every year, it was like this. When he came here straight from work—in the warmer months—he wore a kilt, and it never got old with the brats.
“At long last, kilt season is here!” Tate applauded.
“Keep it up!” Greer hollered back toward the pool. “Check out my calf game too!”
“Woo-woo! Where do I stick the singles?” Noa yelled.
I snorted in amusement and skipped onto his little porch. “Hi, friend.”
“Hey, shortcake.” He unlocked the door and nodded in What’s up.
“Quick question,” I said. “When you reunited with Archie, you pretty much went for it right away. Within a few days, you were trying out a TPE dynamic that included him staying at your place. Did you ever feel like it was going too fast?”
He grinned, part confused. “Me, thinkin’ somethin’ was goin’ too fast? That’s funny. I’m the family bulldozer, Pen. You know that.”
Fair point, but still.
“This about you and Nora?” he asked.
I sighed. “Yes.”
“And you think it’s goin’ too fast?” He headed inside and motioned for me to follow.
“I have an annoying voice in the back of my head telling me it’s too fast,” I admitted. “I’m not exactly agreeing with that, but it’s hard to ignore.”
He grunted and shrugged out of his work tee, tossing it on the couch. Archie had really fixed this place up. Before he’d entered the picture, Greer had used books as furniture. Countless stacks of books. Now, they’d put up shelves along the slanted walls, and Archie had added his Downton Abbey touches, Corey’s love for frogs, and Sloan’s artwork. It was a mismatched mess, but it worked.
“I have a few years on you, but I reckon this still applies to you,” he said, giving his armpits a whiff. I scrunched my nose. “We’re not twenty anymore. It’s one thing to be mindful, but I don’t have time to be cautious. That voice bitchin’ at you is probably the part of you that’s jaded. Trust, I had that voice too.”
That did make sense.
He walked into his little bathroom, where he looked like a giant. He soaked a towel, presumably to wash up.