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)
Ezra was happy to see a new face nevertheless, and as the van decorated with cartoonish dog figures stopped in front of them, he stood alongside Frank despite the breeze turning him into an icicle.
A tall, handsome man with dark hair and the face of a hot scoundrel slid out of the vehicle first, approaching them in fast strides. Green eyes settled on Ezra from above a crooked nose that somehow added yet more charm to the stranger’s magnetic presence.
“Is that him?” the man asked before squeezing Frank’s hand, which confirmed that he was who Ezra thought.
“Yeah, Ezra, Shane,” Frank said, leaving Ezra to wonder just how much Frank’s friend knew about him. “And that’s Ros and Cerberus.”
On the other side of the van, a man in his twenties got out alongside an American pit bull. While the dog wagged his tail and followed Ros, Ezra still stood that bit closer to Frank, because the animal wasn’t on a leash, and the last thing he needed on top of the mess he was already in was scars from a dog bite.
Ros smiled at them as he approached. He was… very pretty. A large, shapely nose made him look refined, and his skin was clearly getting some hydration. His very long dark hair was arranged into two dutch braids, and a T-shirt with a cartoon pit bull positioned like the Mona Lisa added to his playful charm.
“Hey! I heard Frank had a guest.”
From up close he looked even more beautiful, with clear skin and shiny eyes. His presence made Ezra relax, glad there was someone around who he could relate to. “Nice to meet you. My name’s Ezra.”
Ros shook his hand, and while his fingers were dotted by a few cuts and scars, which could be expected of someone making sculptures out of junk, his nails were trimmed and polished.
“How long are you staying?”
Frank cleared his throat. “That’s… to be arranged.”
Shane grinned at Ezra and wiggled his eyebrows. “You keeping Frank on his toes? Good! Maybe he’ll even clean his house.”
A playful dig but well-deserved, so Ezra offered Shane his most charming smile. “He won’t have to anymore. I know how to take care of everything.”
Ezra let that hang in the air, and Ros cleared his throat, gesturing for the dog to stay at his heel when he noticed the tension in Ezra’s body. He was perceptive.
Frank huffed. “If I had time to arrange things—”
Ros waved it off. “We all know you’re busy. That’s why we came over. That’s a great belt, by the way. Where did you get it?” he asked, pointing at the accessory Ezra had gotten Frank for his birthday.
They both froze, lost in what they should do, until Frank mumbled, “Ah, it was from Ezra.”
Shane’s brows lifted. “Someone has expensive taste.”
Frank’s gaze darted to Ezra, who cleared his throat. The belt was actually custom-made, but nobody needed to know how much attention he put into this final gift meant to remind Frank of their brief and unusual relationship. And now? He didn’t know where he stood with Frank anymore. And he hated it. “I chose it because it reminds me of his tattoos,” he said, not wanting to discuss money.
“It’s the best one I have,” Frank said, offering Ezra a smile that had his chest going hot. But before he did something he might later regret, Ros cut in.
“We got some takeout for everyone. Wanna come to ours?”
Real food! Even if it was some shitty chain restaurant pizza, at least it had been made fresh, not reheated.
“That’s so nice of you. I’d love to get to know you two better,” Ezra said, ignoring the fact that Shane watched him with a half-smirk. Maybe he knew of Frank’s visits after all?
“Yeah, but you made the stew… I don’t want your work to go to waste,” Frank said, glancing toward the house with an unreadable expression, but Ezra was intent on chatting to Ros and seeing if they’d get along. Maybe he could even give him some gym pointers, because his calves were slightly too slim in proportion to the rest of his body.
“Come on, it’s just pre-prepared stew. It would be a crime to forgo fresh food to eat something that probably has enough preservatives to not get moldy for a week on the counter.”
Shane started laughing and pushed at Frank’s bicep. “He’s got you there! Come on, we’ve got rotisserie chicken and roast potatoes from that new French place Ros likes.”
Ros’s smile widened and he paced in place to his dog’s happy bark. “Oh, and the sourdough baguettes with wild mushrooms and gruyère cheese? Di-vine!”
Ezra’s mouth watered. It looked like Ros was a man of much finer tastes than his surroundings would suggest.
“Of course we’ll come,” Ezra said and sent Frank a bright smile. “I love a bit of Gruyère as a treat!”