Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 123877 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 619(@200wpm)___ 496(@250wpm)___ 413(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123877 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 619(@200wpm)___ 496(@250wpm)___ 413(@300wpm)
He gave a hard, frustrated shake of his head to dispel the image of so many men chasing after Julian. He reminded himself for the millionth time this week that Julian had been up-front from the beginning. Why had he let himself hope he could be the one to change Julian’s mind?
Beckett hadn’t been wrong about wanting a long-lasting, committed monogamous relationship. He tightly fisted his truck keys, the metal digging into his palm, and started for the door.
This bullshit maniac whining he kept doing had to stop. He agreed he shouldn’t drive all night, especially being sleep-deprived, but he also needed to grow a fucking spine and man the fuck up. So what that the man he loved didn’t want him? That shit happened all the damn time. At least he’d fucking tried. Put himself out there.
Beckett flipped off the lights as he made his way to the front door. He turned the single lock before shutting the door tightly behind him. He took long, purposeful strides toward the parking lot. He had no regrets. He’d given Julian his all.
After two hours of mingling with the throngs of escorts who always attended these events, Julian found he was no longer the top cock on the walk. The more interesting revelation was that he didn’t want to be. The silly conversations were nothing more than flaunting money they didn’t truly have and bragging about possessions they’d never truly earned.
Julian experienced deep embarrassment, knowing he’d once been a lead member of this ridiculous and petty group. He had preened his imaginary success openly, just like all these men. And at the time, he’d believed every word. Exactly like these men did now.
Destructive thoughts took him down a dark rabbit hole. He knew, with all certainty, these same men had rejoiced in his pain after his abduction. No doubt glad to see Julian’s clients open for the picking. He had no friends here. He’d sensed his disconnect from this lifestyle the moment he entered the ballroom then every minute after that chasm had grown.
As the night wore on, Julian learned exactly how much he had evolved. Apparently, he was no longer willing to engage in surface-level conversations. He wanted in on the business discussions. And to his credit, he held his own when speaking of the stock market and future trends.
What the fuck had happened to him?
Although he repeatedly asked himself that question, the answer didn’t seem to truly matter. After fifteen minutes of pretending to be enraptured by the stories of sexcapades, Julian had edged his way to the crowd of uber-successful business leaders. He fit there far better. His inner Thane leaped to the forefront, shocking the shit out of him at exactly how much he had learned by living his life in Thane’s shadow.
He quickly became the Reservations town crier, relentlessly chatting about the concept of the night club and restaurant, and their plans to expand nationwide then internationally. Julian was honored to have earned a lead role in the concept of creating a safe place for all types of men to meet one another. Probably most pleased to have helped in implementing the grueling application process designed to keep every member on the up and up.
Julian rolled his eyes and drained his near empty champagne flute before discarding it on a server’s tray. Then he reached for his second glass of champagne for the evening. He took a sobering step back from the crowds.
He lifted the cold drink to his lips, only taking the slightest of sips as he scanned the large room. Marc stood along the far wall, close to the entrance, along with other private security members. His gaze connected with Marc’s. He hadn’t asked when or how Marc had decided to trail along after Julian, but Marc had accompanied him on the flight to LA. The guy seemed to work a gazillion hours and never tired of trailing after Julian. He hoped Marc had eaten dinner. If not, Julian would take care of it once he got back to the room.
He jiggled his wrist, knocking his watch back in place to look down at the time. A quarter to eleven. Damn, it felt later than it was. Thomas wasn’t scheduled to arrive until after midnight. Julian needed to be honest with Thomas. Apologize for the effort he had made to make this night special for the both of them. This was no longer Julian’s life.
He lifted his gaze while doing the same with his glass. The backdrop of the room morphed into the dance club he used to regularly attend.
The room bristled with energy as he took a long drink from a cocktail glass in his hand after an extended dancing period while waiting for his new client to show. He could feel the recreational drugs pumping through his veins, causing the disco lights to pop a little brighter and the dance music to thump a little clearer. Molly had always been his drug of choice.