Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 75720 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75720 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
That got a genuine and surprised laugh out of me. “Alright, let’s go,” I said, grabbing the keys from underneath a tangle of multicolored rubber bands and jingling them in the air. “Before I end up having to reboot you in the ass.”
Jake turned and gave himself a slap on the ass.
Damn him.
Damn him to gay-baiting hell, and damn me, too. Send me on my merry gay way right down there with him, because damn I wanted to bury my face in that juicy a—
His phone started to ring, startling us both and knocking me right out of my horned-up daydream. He dug in the pocket of his khakis and pulled out his phone, a flash of concern crossing his blue eyes as he read the name on the screen. When he answered it, I could hear a woman’s voice on the other end, but her words were muffled.
“Okay, okay. Don’t worry. Just stay where you are. Yes, yes, I’ll be right there. Okay, bye, love you.”
He hung up, the concern staying in that aquamarine gaze of his.
“Everything okay?” I asked as we stepped out into the windowless hallway lit by a row of fluorescent lights.
“Not really, no. Sorry, I’m going to have to rain check on lunch today.”
“Totally fine,” I said. “Go handle whatever you need to handle.”
“Thanks, Noah.” He held me in place with that infinite sea of blue. It felt almost as if he was about to say something else. Like he wanted to explain his situation further. I tried reading his thoughts, wondering what the hell rattled around inside that big (and admittedly handsome) head of his. Was it drama back at home? Maybe his girlfriend needed help with something, or maybe she was calling him home for an afternoon quickie.
Whatever it was, I figured I’d find out tomorrow when we bumped into each other. Jake reached out and gave me a friendly pat on my arm, the pat turning into more of a slide as he dropped his hand, his fingers grazing my elbow. He opened his mouth again, but no words came out. He pursed his lips and gave a wave before turning and walking toward the elevator bay, leaving me behind to watch as his perfectly perky bubble butt reminded me just how hungry I’d been.
Gah damn it.
I went to lunch by myself, eating my sandwich and sipping on my Cuban coffee and wondering how the hell I was going to stop myself from salivating over a man who’d never want me, at least not in the way I wanted him.
Whatever. I’ll just get drunk with the book club tonight and find someone to hook up with after. That should keep Jake off my mind.
“And you’re sure he’s straight?” Eric asked, opening the bag of chips and dumping them in the big red bowl. I squeezed between him and Tristan and opened my fridge, grabbing the queso and guac dips.
Clearly, I hadn’t stopped thinking about Jake, which was why I had accidentally let his name slip when the boys asked me why I looked so pensive.
“Maybe bi? Pan? I don’t know. I just know he had a picture of him and his girlfriend on his desk. Unless he has a sister that he kisses on the cheek in front of the Christmas tree.”
“Girlfriend or sister, neither options are really ideal for you if he’s kissing her like that,” Tristan helpfully noted.
I rolled my eyes as I transferred the dips from their plastic containers and into smaller ceramic bowls. “It’s fine, guys. Even if there was a shot, I don’t think I’d take it. Especially not if he really is in the closet. Not after Franky. He made me cross off anyone that could hurt me like that again.” I grabbed the dips and walked back into the living room, setting them down on the coffee table as Eric brought out the chips. There was a stack of labeled notebooks and a cup full of pens and pencils sitting in the center of the table.
“What Franky did to you was fucked-up, but everyone’s situation is different. I’m not saying there’s even a chance with Jake—”
“.Thanks.”
“—but if there was, then you can’t assume that he’d act the same as Franky. That guy was a huge dick, and I think he would have been a dick whether he was closeted or not.”
Tristan walked in, a bowl of grapes and strawberries in his hand. “Who’s got a huge dick?”
“Stand down, size queen,” Eric quipped. “We’re talking about someone being a huge dick, not having one.”
“Although,” I said, raising a finger in the air, “Franky did have that too.”
“Was that why you stayed with him for that long?” Tristan asked as he dropped onto the couch, nearly knocking over the book he had left on the armrest.
“No, I stayed with him because—when he wanted to—he knew how to be wildly romantic, and I’m a naive little lamb that’s watched way too many rom-coms and thinks one of those happy endings can happen to me. I just have to find and possibly fix my Prince Charming before that happens.” I shrugged, bare feet on the carpet as I trod back to the kitchen. “But there’s no fixing someone who doesn’t want to be fixed… and yes, the dick did help.”