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’s heart beat faster when Frank opened a cabinet by the sink and pulled out a massive box. He put it on the table.
“I’ve got these receipts I haven’t sorted through. You could arrange them by date and type. Groceries, services, home stuff and so on.”
That obviously meant Ezra wasn’t invited to join Frank during business hours, but the massive box offered a challenge Ezra could easily take on while listening to music. He picked up a few of the papers, which Frank must have been squashing for a while, to fit more in, and frowned. “This is from two years ago. Why is it at the top, and… when’s the last time you’ve done this? Please, tell me it’s not work expenses mixed with personal ones too?”
Frank kissed him on the lips once more, then put his lunch in the duffel bag and zipped it up. “And that’s for you to work out. I’ll be back later.”
Ezra hummed, putting the box down. “Okay, I’ll be waiting here like Cinderella while you guys go to the ball. Make sure that prospect guy from the motorcycle club comes over, so I have more receipts to file,” he told Frank, a bit more at ease. He supposed the bikers might not want an outsider poking around in their business.
“Don’t lose any shoes!” Frank yelled on his way out, and Ezra couldn’t help but smile.
He felt so much more relaxed now that he was Frank’s… something.
But he’d find out exactly what Frank did for a living in due course anyway.
Chapter 15
Ezra
Ezra wondered if the kimchi he’d made from scratch wouldn’t be too spicy for Frank, but he could always make another batch for him in a few days. For now though, he was busy assembling lunch boxes Frank could reach for at any time. Healthy and delicious, they were filled with all the microelements and vitamins a man should need when not only doing lots of physical labor but also training with the goal of gaining muscle mass. And fucking. A lot. One of them might just fulfill all of Ezra’s daily caloric intake, but someone as active as Frank didn’t need to worry about going overboard.
The kitchen smelled of grilled fish, steamed vegetables, and several spice mixtures that would make each meal fresh, but Ezra wasn’t done yet and approached the stove to check on the turkey stew. He liked cooking. He wouldn’t call it his passion, but something about controlling what exactly went into his body put him at ease and calmed him down. And since Frank didn’t care for himself enough, helping him feel better with the right kind of food became Ezra’s mission. Two weeks into it, he could already see progress.
Frank tried not to let it show, but he’d been skeptical at first, and seeing him grow increasingly fond of the new meal plan motivated Ezra to engage all his creativity into putting that pleased smile on that handsome face. It felt good to be in charge and organize all the things Frank didn’t have the time for.
Frank appreciated him. There was no money involved, even though Frank did house him, protect him, bought all the groceries etc. Ezra couldn’t put his finger on it, but it wasn’t like an exchange or barter either. His anxious brain would sometimes suggest that Frank was only doing all this for the sake of getting sex, but reality proved the opposite.
Frank had slipped into the role of his boyfriend, and Ezra didn’t hate it at all, even if Carmen would have called him a sucker, who’d fallen into a trap of permanent freebies, on the way to lose his most precious commodity—youth.
The L-word floated up in Ezra’s chest from time to time, and he pushed it right back to the bottom of his mind, where it should stay along with the broken wrecks from Ezra’s past, but he couldn’t deny that Frank had become his whole world. He was a cuddly bear, with claws for anyone who dared reach for Ezra. Stable. Safe. Kind.
The protector Ezra never had.
So yeah, Ezra gladly did the laundry for them both, took charge of Frank’s meals, and scrubbed the place clean, not just because he wanted those things, but because he knew that Frank needed them too.
The Strongman competition Frank was preparing for was approaching fast, and there hadn’t been a day when Ezra didn’t imagine himself in the audience, cheering for his champion. Too bad Paul was still out there, and Frank might decide to leave him in the safety of Shane and Jag’s care.
A head appeared in the open kitchen window so abruptly Ezra yelped and dropped his spatula.
“Mmm… smells nice,” Jag said.
Ezra should be used to this dude spooking him by now.
“You want some?” he asked, because all the boxes were already full, and he’d intended to distribute the remaining food among Frank’s friends anyway. It would have also been an opportunity to visit them all, something Ezra increasingly craved.