Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Not that Ezra would ever want any of that again.
“I told you, we don’t really talk much anymore,” Ezra said, sitting close to Frank with a large bottle of vodka. He seemed confused for a moment, as if he’d only now remembered he didn’t have another hand to unscrew it with. His gaze settled on Frank.
Oh. So that had been the point of alcohol provisions. So that they could loosen up a bit. Frank sure as fuck needed it, so he opened the bottle without wasting time.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was something you needed from me,” he said as guilt crushed him over yet another of his failings. He'd even argued that point with Jag and Dane like some old grump when Ezra had been wasting away all alone and waiting for a word from him.
“I don’t think I’ve been much fun to be around lately, so I get it. It’s not what you’re used to from me,” Ezra said in a soft voice, watching the clear liquor being poured into a glass.
“You’ve been through a lot. You have the right to be angry or upset. I just wish I could help.” Frank downed a shot, enjoying the burn, but then grabbed his fork to dig into the food.
Ezra exhaled and spun some of the wholegrain pasta with chicken and sauce onto his fork. “Maybe I do, but what about you?”
“Hm? What about me? I’m… fine. My hands are fully healed, and that was the only thing I had to deal with.” Frank shrugged and dug into the food, painfully aware how close to Ezra he was. Just enough to sense the teasing whiff of Ezra’s peppery cologne, or get a glimpse of a nipple whenever Ezra leaned forward. Was it torture or heaven? He wasn’t sure.
“That’s not true, is it?” Ezra asked, meeting his gaze. “You have to deal with me, and my moods, and… all the issues I caused,” he added, shaking his head as his eyes dimmed a bit.
Frank’s first instinct was to deny it, to claim he wasn’t bothered by anything, so Ezra could feel more at ease, but he got the sense that Ezra didn’t want niceties for their own sake. He wanted a conversation, and Frank could only lie for so long.
“You’re not a burden, Ezra. It’s just… a little tough to be around you sometimes, because of our history. Just like seeing Paul reminds me of stuff I don’t want to remember, seeing you reminds me of things I don’t want to forget. But being exposed to that can hurt.”
Ezra inhaled and emptied his vodka glass. His face was beautiful even when the sharp bitterness of the liquid made him grimace. “I talked to Ros earlier, and it made me regret that I haven’t asked more questions when we talked about Paul and you.”
An alarm bell rang in Frank’s head, but at least he had the delicious food to soothe himself with. “Why? It’s all history.”
“History that’s still affecting us both. And I want to know what happened. Why did you work with him? Why did you stop? Why is he still coming back like a nasty rash?” Ezra asked and poured them more booze.
If Ezra wanted to know everything, Frank definitely needed another drink. “You can leave stuff behind, learn from it, but it still stays with you, makes you the person you are now. My past is ugly, Ezra. And I guess you think badly enough of me for what I do in the present. I didn’t want you to also see all the shit I left behind.”
Ezra shifted closer, his amber eyes like two candles illuminating Frank for questioning. “Will you tell me if I ask?”
A raw wound opened inside of Frank as if Ezra was prying it open with his bare fingers, so he took another shot of vodka to disinfect the tender flesh. “If that’s what you want, I will. I don’t need to keep secrets from you.” Because if Ezra wanted to incriminate him, he already had all the necessary ammo, and Frank wasn’t going to trap him here forever.
Exhaling, he met Ezra’s gaze, and placed his fate in those delicate, beautiful hands. The still-swollen nose flared when Ezra nodded, chewing on his food without paying any attention to it, as if he only cared about the things Frank might tell him.
Frank took a deep breath. “When the dinosaurs still roamed the earth, and I was ten,” Ezra shook his head with a little smile and kicked his foot under the table, “my mom left me and my sister with my dad, and went back to New Zealand. This might not seem like it has much to do with Paul, but we’ll get there.”
Ezra swallowed and sucked in more of the spaghetti, but his attention seemed absorbed by Frank’s words. After four weeks of avoiding each other, it was as if a switch flipped, and while this was nothing like the sense of familiarity from before the accident, dopamine raced through Frank’s veins.