Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“Thank your boyfriend,” East replies. Maybe I should take offense that he didn’t call on his own, but I don’t, and I know he doesn’t mean that he doesn’t want to talk to me. It’s just how we all are…and how Dusty is. “He’s got a way about him, doesn’t he?”
I chuckle. “He really fucking does. I lose my balance just thinking about him sometimes.”
“That’s a good thing?” Easton questions.
I nudge him. “Yeah, idiot. It is.” We both stand up. “What about you? You have anyone? Ever had anyone?”
He gives a grin. “I’ve had a lot of people.”
“Cocky little bastard,” I tease him. “Really, though.”
“Nah. It’s not really my way.” I can tell by how he says it that the conversation is over—at least the part about him and dating. “Wanna stay for dinner?”
I grin, feeling it deep in my chest. Jesus, I didn’t know how much I needed this until right now. I want a relationship with East. I want to know my brother in ways I’ve never really been able to know him. “Sure do. I’d like that.”
“Good thing for you, I can cook.”
“Really?” Something else I don’t know about my brother. I hear when he loses a job or gets fired. I hear when he gets arrested or passes out half naked in a park. I don’t hear that Easton is a good cook.
“Fuck yes,” East replies, and damn, I can’t wait to learn even more secrets about him.
“Let’s do it, then.”
He heads for the house, Pretty Girl right on his heels.
*
I spend a couple of hours with Easton, and it’s really great. Sometimes he’s more talkative than others. He seems to be adrift at moments, like he’s lost inside his head, and I decide to wait it out when he gets like that, let Easton come out of it on his own. After we finish eating the pasta he made for dinner, we hang out for another half hour or so, when he says, “I think you should head out.”
At first, I’m startled by his words, wondering if I’ve done something wrong, but East looks down at Pretty Girl, petting her head with an expression that almost looks like he’s ashamed of them. It’s all I need to see that it’s nothing I did to upset him, but that East just likes his peace and solitude. Being around me for a few hours in his space is enough for him.
“Okay.” I stand up, walk over, and give Pretty Girl some love. “Thank you for today. I had fun. I hope we do it again.”
“Yup,” he says but leaves it there. I nod and turn to walk away, but Easton’s hand wraps around my wrist, holding me there. Before I know what’s happening, he’s shoving to his feet and wrapping his arms around me. It’s a quick hug, but while he’s there, East squeezes tightly. And then just like that, he lets go and walks into the kitchen.
I stand there a moment, words on my tongue. Wanting to talk to him, to really talk to him, about our fucked-up lives and what the way we grew up did to us. Want to ask him what’s wrong and tell him he can hug me anytime he wants, but my gut is telling me to hold that in. That voicing it will push East away. So even though it’s not what I want, I call out, “See ya later,” and head out. My chest is tight, too many thoughts swimming in my head. The second I get out to my car, I text Dusty.
Hey…you free? I was just with Easton. I want to tell you about it.
And hell, I just want to be with him. I always want to be with him. I’m never vulnerable with anyone other than Dusty—at least I haven’t been in the past. Part of it is my own hang-ups, and part of it is just fucking society and the way it is with men. We’re not supposed to be vulnerable. We’re supposed to hold it in, and I can’t help wondering, if we’d felt more comfortable expressing our feelings, if me, East, and Rhett wouldn’t be so fucked up now. But I can always show Dusty all the parts of me, and being around him makes me want to learn to let others in too…like East…like Spencer.
Dusty: I always have time for you. Need me to meet you at your dad’s? We can stay there again.
And the thing is, I know he would. Dusty would do it even though my dad would be a dick about it, but I don’t want to be there tonight.
Me: No. I’ll make sure he eats and takes his pills, and then I’ll come to you. He can be alone. I think me staying there is mostly just Rhett being Rhett.