Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 68987 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68987 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
And still, the words were right there on my lips, waiting to come out, and I didn’t say them.
“Later,” I finally managed to say, taking off down the steps of the huge front porch and out into the chilly air, the wind whipping at my scarf as I jogged over to my car. When I hopped in and closed the door, my cheeks were hot, and I pulled off the sweater and the scarf and set them on the passenger seat. I’d be better off not getting them dirty during my shift, anyway.
I exhaled.
What the fuck?
I was typically an open book with any of the guys from the frat. But I’d never had to come out to anyone before, and it had caught me completely off guard. If Charlie had been there beside me, everything would have felt easy. There was no shot in hell I’d have frozen up like that.
Everything just felt better when he was around, lately. Even when it came to talking about myself—something I’d been awful at for a long, long time.
I chewed on the inside of my cheek as I threw the car in drive and headed up the mountain to Jade River, making it to the brewery just in time for the start of my shift. In between serving customers my mind idly wandered back to my conversation with Stevie and Aaron, confusion circling around me like a snake. I felt guilty that I hadn’t come right out of the closet, shouting loud and proud about my date with a man.
And my heart was resolute by a couple of hours into my shift.
I was going to tell them. After the date tonight, or tomorrow. I’d find them in the frat house, sit them down, and explain everything from start to finish. I’d been feeling bad enough about being too busy to hang with Stevie and Aaron lately, anyway.
Talking about myself was like pulling teeth, but I was determined to make this work.
Hours later, I pulled up outside Charlie’s house and all of my thoughts about work and my fraternity brothers evaporated in an instant.
Charlie came out of the front door just as a light snow began to fall. When I saw him through the windshield, I felt like a teenager with a crush, staring at some heartthrob way out of my league. His outfit was nice, sure—a classy, slim black peacoat, collecting tiny snowflakes on its shoulders, and then his usual shirt and dark jeans underneath. But to be honest, he could have been wearing a giant neon green potato sack for all I cared.
It was his smile. The pure, genuine smile he got when he saw me, and the way it went all the way up to his eyes.
“Seeing that is my favorite thing in the world,” I said as he slid into the passenger seat. “Favorite fucking thing.”
“The snow?” he asked as he clipped on his seat belt, looking out at the slowly falling flakes. “I love it, too. By the time fall rolls around, I’m ready for it, you know?”
“The snow’s great, but I was talking about your smile.” My cheeks got a little hot. “And now I’m regretting saying that, because I’m already being too mushy, and it’s only our first date. Stop making me feel things, you fucker.”
This earned me another genuine smile from him, and this one went straight to my heart even more quickly.
He leaned over, reaching a hand behind my neck and pressing his lips to mine. It was a soft, easy kiss, but it felt laced with fire, a promise that he really did still want this just as much as I did. He hadn’t said yes to the date as a fluke.
“Is that better?” he murmured as he pulled back a little.
“No. Not better. You were already making me feel things, and now I’m feeling a whole lot more.”
“Welcome to my world,” Charlie said. “I feel way too many things, all of the time, and I have to wrangle them like they’re wild animals.”
“And usually I avoid feeling things by listening to other people’s problems,” I said. “Guess we’re a perfect match.”
“Who knows? We haven’t even gone on our first date yet.”
“Step one: be a guy’s fake boyfriend. Step two: beg him to let you suck his dick. Step three: go on your first date,” I joked. “I’d say we’re doing things very traditionally.”
“No complaints here,” he told me as he reached out to rub the soft cashmere sleeve of my sweater. “And no complaints about this, either. You look good as hell. Are you taking me somewhere fancy?”
I threw the car in reverse and headed back out onto the road, toward the main road that led back down the mountain to Boulder.
“You’ll see,” I said. “It’s not fancy, by any means, but it’s somewhere I really like, and I think you will too.”