Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 58487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
“If it’s any consolation, your mouth tastes nice,” Ryan said. “Okay, that sounded weird. But as someone who has kissed more than two people in his life—”
“Three,” Jamie cut in.
“As someone who has kissed more than three people in his life, I have to say it’s pretty rare for someone drunk to have a nice-tasting mouth. Must be your superior breeding.”
“I think you’re drunker than me,” Jamie said, snorting.
“Never,” Ryan said. Dropping his smile, he turned his head and nuzzled Jamie’s temple. “Lambert is full of shit, Jamie. You’re not frigid, trust me.” If Jamie could get so excited from kissing someone he wasn’t even attracted to, he was the opposite of frigid. Ryan kissed Jamie’s temple. “Joking aside, you’re not a terrible kisser. And technique isn’t everything. It’s always flattering as hell when your partner is eager. It’s a turn-on. It was strange to me for obvious reasons, but obviously I don’t count.”
Jamie put his chin on top of his knees, hugging them tightly. He turned his face away so Ryan could no longer see even his profile. “No, you don’t,” he said tonelessly.
Ryan’s eyes narrowed, an uncomfortable feeling nagging at the back of his mind.
“I’m tired,” Jamie said, sighing and putting his head on Ryan’s shoulder. “I’m so tired,” he murmured, his eyelids sliding shut. “Hope I won’t remember this in the morning. I don’t want to.”
Frowning, Ryan stroked his hair with his fingers.
“I wish…I wish things were different,” Jamie whispered.
“Different?”
Jamie didn’t respond.
Ryan started thinking that he had fallen asleep when Jamie mumbled quietly, “Do you ever wonder if there are alternate universes? Lives where things are a little bit different? It makes me feel better to think that maybe in another life…” His voice got strained and he trailed off.
Before long, he was asleep.
Ryan lifted him carefully and carried him to his bedroom. Jamie didn’t wake up even when he tucked him into his bed. Ryan sat next to him, leaning back against the headboard.
His forehead creased, he watched Jamie sleep as the nagging feeling in his gut became stronger and stronger.
Chapter 6
“Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday dear Zaaach
Happy birthday to you!”
James watched everyone in the room sing enthusiastically—well, everyone in the room but Zach, who was the birthday boy, and Tristan, who seemed to be torn between making fun of people around him and smiling stupidly at Zach.
James loved birthdays. He loved the Hardaway birthdays in particular: they were loud, fun and very warm, and Zach’s thirty-first birthday was no exception. The food was always delicious—despite her fragile health, Cathleen Hardaway always insisted on doing the cooking herself on the occasions of her children’s birthdays—and company was even better. Normally.
“Aren’t you having fun, handsome?” Fred asked, wrapping a hand around his bicep.
Case in point.
Suppressing his grimace, James gave his new boyfriend a thin smile. Tall, dark, and handsome, Fred was exactly his type, but James couldn’t say he liked Fred all that much. They had been together for two weeks already, but he still felt uneasy every time Fred touched him. He couldn’t help it. No matter what his mind knew, his heart still couldn’t get the memo that he wasn’t Ryan’s, and every touch, every kiss felt like cheating. It had been easier with Paul. With Paul, James had managed to half-convince himself he could love Paul. With Fred, he couldn’t. He’d chosen Paul because he had liked him; he’d chosen Fred because he needed a boyfriend. Because he needed to distract Ryan, needed to dispel any suspicion.
Ever since the night of his breakup with Paul—ever since he got stupidly drunk and kissed his best friend—Ryan had been looking at him a little oddly. James didn’t think Ryan suspected the truth, but Ryan had been extra attentive, as if he was afraid Jamie was depressed. The worst thing was, James could remember only vaguely the kiss they shared, or rather, the kisses they shared, because apparently when he was drunk, he had no shame and wasn’t above using Ryan’s pity and kindness. The memory alone made him cringe. He’d never thought he could be so desperate and pathetic, but apparently, he was.
It wasn’t the only thing that worried him. He could vaguely remember telling Ryan something before passing out, but no matter how hard he strained his memory, it remained blank. What if he’d said something incriminating?
“Honey?” Fred said.
James hid another grimace. Fred was such a walking stereotype. Despite his muscular build, he was so feminine and dramatic that the first time Ryan had met Fred, Ryan had actually turned to James and given him a “really?” look.
On the bright side, Fred didn’t try to take the aggressive role in sex, perfectly content with letting James fuck him. But even despite Fred’s harmlessness, James still couldn’t quite relax with him—let alone relax enough to try bottoming.