Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89053 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89053 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“If you cut your hair, what would you do when you’re thinking?” Alec asked absently, basking in the glow of Key’s words while watching Key work. He piled ham, American cheese, lettuce, tomato, and pickles on his sandwich, and Alec tried to make a mental note of Key’s selections.
He wished he could see Key’s face better to view for himself what Key thought about him having already picked up on the way Key piled his hair on top of his head when he became unsure of things. It took a second for him to answer.
“You catch on quick.”
“It’s part of the job.” Alec grinned. He was grinning a lot since Key had arrived.
“Then you were fishin’,” Key teased, finally looking his way, giving him a knowing wink. “Do you wanna sandwich?”
“No, I ate.”
“With him.” The words sounded very close to an accusation, and Alec laughed as he went to the cupboard for a plate. He came back to Key who’d gathered all the food in his arms. Alec reached out, opening the refrigerator door, and Key dumped everything on the top shelf, quickly shutting the door behind him. Whatever Key saw on Alec’s face caused him to say, “I’ll organize it better when the electricity comes back on. I didn’t want to waste the cold.”
“You catch on quick.” Alec used Key’s words to joke about his need for constant organization. He put the sandwich on a plate, handing it over. “Where do you want to eat?”
“Here’s fine.” Key went around the kitchen bar and took a seat on the other side. Alec only had eyes for Key, tracking everything he did. He loved watching the man, from the way he took the seat to his forearms resting just on the edge of the counter as he started to eat. Alec got stuck on the expansive ink covering his bare chest.
“You’re an interesting man. You’re comfortable now?” Alec asked, lifting his gaze from the defined pecs to stare Key in the eye.
“Should I not be?” Key asked before taking a big hearty bite.
“No, you should be. It’s just there’s a big difference in the on-guard Key and the relaxed one,” Alec said, reaching for a napkin, sliding it across the bar. Key lifted one of those cleaned-up brows, looking slightly bewildered as he took another bite. “You talk more. You tease. You act different when you’re comfortable.”
Key nodded, still chewing.
“I like it. Need a drink?” Alec didn’t wait for the answer. He went back to the refrigerator, opening the door quickly so Key didn’t scold him again, and handed a beer over as he asked, “How old are you?”
“These seem like relationship questions,” Key said, not answering the question before twisting the cap off the bottle and turning it up to take a long drink.
“I thought we defined that when I arrived,” Alec countered, propping his elbows on the granite countertop then leaning on them, his gaze focused on Key.
“Yup. So what are the rules?” Key asked, taking another bite then swiping the napkin off the counter to wipe his lips.
“Okay, well, I haven’t gotten that far. I think I’d like for you to agree to spend at least one night a week over here—two if I can get it. We can plan that night as we go,” Alec suggested. It seemed reasonable.
“My shop’s open every day.”
Alec nodded his understanding, not sure how that comment fit what they were discussing, but he accepted that piece of information.
What else would he like from Key?
“Based on the last few weeks, honestly, I’d like some sort of contact every day. At least for a while. You wrecked my confidence. I’m feeling kind of needy.”
Key lifted a hand to cover his full mouth as he barked out a laugh. He took another drink, clearing his throat before saying. “I wrecked your confidence? Let’s see. Since the last time I was here, I moved out of my house, kicked my old man out of his business, got in three fights, drank more than any other time in my entire life. If I could’ve ripped my heart out of my chest, I would have. I haven’t slept much at all, and I fuckin’ hate all these feelin’s I keep feelin’. Then to top it all off”—Key did a little circle motion with his finger, pointing to his face and hair—“I went to a hair salon on the rich side of town. Me. This.” Key motioned up and down his body. “My pop really thought I smelled like a chick when I got to work that day, but that has nothin’ on what those hairstylists did to me. I’ve never had any sort of ego. Live and let live. But meetin’ you made me feel like dirt, so I win the wrecked confidence award.”
Alec had rested his chin on his palm, enjoying all the sentences Key strung together until he got to the last one, and his brows slid together. That seemed to happen a lot when Key spoke. “Me? How did I make you feel like dirt?”