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)
He smiled and nodded. “That works,” he said and sat back in his chair, my eyes falling to those plush lips of his.
We stayed at the bar past our one-drink limit, going for three more before I called it a night. Once I started seeing double of Eric (and feeling doubly attracted to him), I realized it was best we went our separate ways. He told me about another book club meeting they were having tomorrow, which sounded like a good time, as well as a neutral space to hang out with him, so I promised him I’d be there.
As we were each waiting for our Ubers, there was a quiet moment between us that felt as though it was going to lead to a kiss. Eric was just telling me how he’d had such a great time today, and he was inching closer and his hand was moving for mine, and my heart started to pound a little harder and— Honk.
My ride had pulled up on the other side of the street and honked to let me know he’d arrived. Eric put his hands in his pocket and said bye, leaving me wondering what would have happened if Jean in his red Toyota had gotten stuck in traffic for a couple of minutes longer on his way to pick me up. Would I have kissed him back?
Damn it, I thought to myself as I got into the car. We’ve really got to set up some boundaries. And quick.
11
ERIC RUIZ
I was one of the first to arrive at Tia and Jess’s new house. It was a two-story home tucked into a nice Atlanta suburb with a manicured lawn and a couple of hanging potters holding trailing vines on the porch. They had just repainted it so that it was a clean white with a dark blue door, coordinating with the navy cushion on the rocking chair. A couple of neighborhood kids rode their bikes down the street, chasing after each other and laughing at the silly jabs they’d throw to one another.
It was all a huge change from their last neighborhood, which was constantly seeing police activity, red and blue lights occasionally flashing through the closed blinds of their living room window. We’d hear some crazy shit when we were over at their place when the windows were open. Yelling, screeching, sirens, crying. But it had always been a temporary home for them, having to adjust after taking on some big medical debt from Jess’s scary (but thankfully brief) fight with breast cancer. It was a fucked-up place to be where medical expenses outweighed things like rent and a down payment for a new house, but the two of them had stuck with each other and fought through it.
Now they had the house of their dreams, with a yard and a pool and a separate room for a baby down the line. It was all they’d ever wanted, and it made me so damn happy to see.
“Hello, new homeowners,” I said to a smiling Tia as she opened the door.
Her face dropped. “What did you just call me?” We both cracked up in laughter as I took her in a hug, handing her the bottle of champagne I’d gotten in celebration.
“Veuve? Oh, you know that’s my favorite. You didn’t have to,” she said, “but I’m glad you did.” She threw her braids over her shoulder and chuckled before leading me inside.
Jess came down the stairs, her bracelets jingling with every bouncing step she took, a wide smile plastered on her dewy, freshly showered face. I could still smell the coconut shampoo she used when she pulled me in for a hug.
“Do I get a tour?” I asked, looking around at the expertly furnished living room. Tia was the interior designer of the pair, while Jess focused more on cheering her on. A bright red leather couch popped against the white carpet, drawing the eye before the large Pollock-inspired paintings took your attention. There were multiple vases holding a cluster of different-colored flowers and orchids, adding a touch of life that made the entire space come together.
The television was on, set to the local news. A reporter stood outside of the police department, the lower third reading: Midnight Chemist strikes again. Atlanta’s gay community on high alert.
“Damn, another one?” I shook my head, a sinking feeling settling in my chest and ruining this otherwise delightful moment. “When are they going to find this person?”
“Hopefully soon,” Tia said before turning the television off.
“I was at Blake’s yesterday, and it was practically a ghost town compared to how it usually is. People don’t even want to go out and hang with friends right now.”
“It’s so fucked-up,” Jess said, a hand on the back of her neck. She wore a black T-shirt with the sleeves cut off and a plunging neckline, Lady Gaga rocking out on her chest.