Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 67432 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67432 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Damn. I had fucked this all up, hadn’t I? If only I wasn’t so ashamed of my own sexuality back then, I would never have pushed Colton away, would never have hurt him. None of this “fake” bullshit would have even been necessary. I looked at him as he sat down next to me, wondering what our life could have looked like together. Flashes of laughter and joy blinked across my vision. When I was with Colton, I felt happy. Truly happy. In a way I hadn’t felt for a long, long time. I had been going through a gray swath of life, with nothing or no one exciting me. Even my job had grown stale over the last few months.
But then Colton bumped into me at that coffee shop, and suddenly, my entire world was blasted in technicolor paint.
“I’m glad I’m here with you,” I said, causing him to look at me with some surprise. The Zoom call hadn’t started yet, but our faces were already being reflected back at us on the screen. “I know it’s not for the best of reasons, but I’m still happy you brought me along with you.”
Colton’s eyes bounced between mine as if he was searching for something. But what? What was he looking for, and how could I get it for him? Because if he told me he wanted the moon in his lap, I would have found a way to pull it down from the sky for him.
A ding from my iPad interrupted Colton before he could respond. We both looked to the screen, Jake and Noah’s faces popping up before Tia and Jess appeared underneath them. Yvette and Tristan weren’t far behind. I leaned to the side so that Colton and I were in the center of our square, waving at my friends.
“Everyone got their books?” Noah asked as he adjusted his glasses on his face. He and Jake were cuddled up on the couch together, a plush-looking navy blue blanket covering them both.
“More importantly,” Tristan said, raising a glass up to the camera, “everyone got their drinks?”
“Ah crap, we don’t have any,” Colton said.
“Wait, yes we do.” I got up and went over to the dresser, where a minifridge had been tucked inside. I opened it and pulled out two beers, popping them open and handing one over to Colton. “Problem solved.”
We gave a little cheers to our Reading Under the Rainbow book club, which had just gone global with Colton and me sitting halfway across the world from the rest of the gang.
Tristan leaned forward, looking straight down the camera. “So, how’s your vacation going, boys?”
“It’s going well,” Colton said. “Besides a little dustup at dinner today, so far, things have been fine.”
“Judging by the smiles on both your faces, things have been a little better than just fine,” Tristan said with a smirk.
Damn it. Leave it to one of my best friends to pick up on the post-sex glow that was admittedly hard to hide.
“Alright, alright,” I said, lifting up the book and waving it at the group. “Let’s get this started. Jess, what’s tonight’s game?”
Jess was the one leading the discussion tonight, so it had been her responsibility to make the night’s drinking game. She had a knack for knowing how to get us all blasted ten minutes into the meeting. “Since we’re all over the place today, I figured we can play a game of Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego’s Drink? Whenever one of us mentions the name of a place, whether fictional or real, then you’ve got to drink— unless you remember to put on your invisible Carmen Sandiego hat before you say the place.” Jess mimed putting a hat on her head with both hands and tipped it forward. “But first, let’s go back to your trip to France.” She winked underneath her invisible hat. “I actually haven’t stopped talking about it with Tia.”
“She really hasn’t,” Tia said, shaking her head but smiling as she took a sip of her wine.
“I just stumbled on an article online—not that I was researching your mom or anything, Colton—but it got me thinking about it and how messed up of a situation it is.”
I perked up. “Is this blog called Who’s Eating the Rich, by any chance?”
“That’s the one,” she said. “Of course, we don’t have to talk about it if you’re not comfortable, Colton. But… maybe we can help?”
Colton sat up a little straighter. I looked at him, seeing a man who’d been through hell and back and who was still able to smile through all of it. And some of that hell was inflicted by the very person sitting next to him. It hurt me to know that I had hurt him. It was a visceral pain, one that wasn’t eased by the presence of friends or alcohol. I hated myself for telling Colton I’d never love him. I was projecting all of my fears and insecurities on the one person who mattered to me. One of the only people on this earth capable of helping me fight off those toxic and self-hating traits. “I don’t mind at all,” he said, looking to me. “Bumping into Eric felt like it was meant to be for a lot of different reasons, but one of those reasons is—I think—to have met you guys.”