Murphy’s Law Read online Riley Hart (Havenwood #2)

Categories Genre: M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Havenwood Series by Riley Hart
Advertisement1

Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
<<<<253543444546475565>86
Advertisement2


“I’m just there for the food,” Josh teased with a wink, which made all of us laugh.

It was the perfect response, and I knew they’d all do their best the next day. They’d try even harder to befriend Remy because they knew it was important to me. It was the way they were. Hell, I was lucky to have them in my life.

Remy deserved people like them too.

Kellan said, “I can’t believe you’re friends with him.”

“It’s fucking Law; of course he is,” Josh said. “If there is one of us who is going to be friends with a celebrity, it’s his pretty ass.”

“He’s not wrong,” I concurred.

“Hey! I’m pretty!” Kellan joked, and Chase nuzzled his neck.

“Yes, you are.”

Griff said, “That’s my cue to leave.”

“You know I love you, babe,” Josh told Kellan.

“I suddenly feel like I’m missing out on the cool-kids club,” Knox added.

“Poor Knoxy, the resident straight,” I teased, ruffling his hair. He jerked back.

“Griffin is straight too. And I hate it when you call me Knoxy.”

“No you don’t. It’s why we’re besties. You secretly love it,” I said playfully.

That moment, with my closest friends there giving each other shit, was almost perfect. The only thing that could make it better would be if Remy was included.

I hung out with the guys a little longer than I’d planned to.

On the way home, I couldn’t keep my eyes from scanning Remy’s place as I drove past it. There was no reason I couldn’t stop. The light was on, and he’d invited me over, but then I thought about the look he’d given me when I was talking to Cynthia and Becca—the quiet possessiveness I wouldn’t have thought him capable of if I hadn’t felt it before, and I figured it was a good idea to go home. We would be together tomorrow. I needed to watch myself and try to keep some semblance of a line between us.

Because eventually he would leave. Despite what he said, I didn’t know if he would ever be able to come out. And I could never be a secret again.

When I stepped inside, Bear jumped all over me, licked my face, then ran out to pee. I waited for him, and a minute or so later, he was back inside with me. I sat on the couch and turned on the TV as my monster of a dog climbed onto my lap like he thought he was a Yorkie or something. “You’re too big, Bear.” He ignored me and lay down, half on me, half on the couch, and I petted him. “What do you think about Remy? You like him, don’t you?” As if answering my question, Bear turned and licked my face. I dropped back against the couch and closed my eyes. “Yeah…I know. I like him too.”

Goddamned Remington Monroe.

“You make me feel like I’m somethin’.” Remy twisted one of my curls around his finger. “Like I’m not just that shy kid…that quiet kid…the one who doesn’t have friends. I remember this one time, I went to a birthday party. It was a boy from our church. His parents made him invite me. Mom made me go. They all ignored me, and I heard him saying how I never talked at church. Then this girl came up to me and said, ‘Can’t you speak? Is there something wrong with you?’ and everyone laughed. I decided three things that day: that I would never need anyone, that I would accept that no one would ever really care about me, and that I would make something of myself. You changed all three.”

I frowned. “You’re the one who made something of yourself, Rem, not me.”

“Yeah, but I did it because of you. You talked me into letting you upload the video that changed everything and…” He stopped talking and kissed me.

“Fuck.” I shook those thoughts out of my head, nudging Bear off me so I could go shower. He looked at me as if to say, How dare you make me move, before promptly falling asleep again.

When I got out of the shower, I didn’t get into bed. With a sigh, I got dressed, grabbed a flashlight, called Bear, and set out for Remy’s place, cursing myself the whole damn time. The lights looked dim inside as I stepped on the porch. The soft sound of the guitar drifted out. I stood there listening for a moment, heard Remy’s smoky voice as he sang, but couldn’t make out the words.

I trembled. That sexy-as-hell voice would be the death of me.

Gently, I rapped my knuckles against the door. The guitar and singing stopped, and a moment later he opened it. He looked tired, but I knew he likely wouldn’t go to sleep anytime soon. He never did if he was playing. His hair was wet as though he’d showered not long before, a pair of sweats low on his hips, and no T-shirt. I couldn’t help but notice there was no underwear band sticking out.


Advertisement3

<<<<253543444546475565>86

Advertisement4