Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 84939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
“He’s lucky to have you… Sam.”
It wasn’t the first time he’d said my name, but it might as well have been.
“I’m the lucky one,” I murmured. I found my eyes dropping to Matias’s mouth. My whole body began to tremble as it silently begged for what my mouth couldn’t say.
In that moment, I was his.
Absolutely and completely.
Bent over the kitchen table or up against the window or on my back on the kitchen floor… didn’t matter. I was his for the taking. I wasn’t proud of it, but I couldn’t keep lying to myself. I didn’t even pretend to understand the chemistry I had with the man. It was just there. The sky was blue, grass was green, and I wanted Matias de la Vega more than I wanted my next breath.
“Matias,” I whispered.
I drew in a shaky breath and waited for whatever was to come. When it did, I wasn’t prepared for it.
At all.
Because Matias did nothing more than lift his finger to trace the sensitive skin beneath my left eye before saying, “Get some sleep, Sam.”
Then, just like that, he was gone.
Chapter 9
Matias
“Matias.”
I didn’t turn around because I knew Sam would just have that same mix of confusion and pity in his eyes he’d had the night before and I had no desire to see it again.
Ever.
I also wasn’t in the mood to hear the same question he had every right to be asking me.
What are you doing here, Matias?
I didn’t want to hear it because I had no fucking clue what I was doing there.
Again.
So I did what would serve the biggest purpose and focused on the task at hand. I could have replaced the window in the shed with my eyes closed, but it was more convenient for me to pretend it was taking all my attention to complete the job.
Several long beats of silence followed.
For the first time in as long as I could remember, the lack of noise made me uncomfortable. I was in the process of turning around when Sam said, "I don't even know why I have this thing. I mean, the house didn’t come with it and I hire people to maintain the lawn because I can't work a lawnmower to save my life, but I saw this shed at Home Depot one day while I was looking for some hanging flowerpots for my front porch and I just had to have it. I mean, in what world is a garden shed an impulse buy at the checkout aisle? My world, apparently."
I found myself inwardly smiling at Sam's rambling. I had no clue why it brought me such a strange sense of comfort, but it did. Maybe I was just glad he wasn't asking me the dreaded question of what I was doing there. I was sure that question would eventually come, but in the meantime, I’d enjoy every second of the momentary reprieve.
"I think it's because it matches the house. I mean, not exactly, but the trim is close, and I liked how the windows were circular. Maybe it reminded me of a dollhouse or something. I don't know. I always wanted a dollhouse as a kid, one with circular windows, but that was a big no-no because boys weren’t supposed to want dollhouses…" Sam let out a laugh that sounded more nervous than anything else. Then he went quiet.
Which was unacceptable to me, though I didn't really know why.
I cleared my throat and said, "The windows are nice, but they’re a bitch to replace."
Jesus, Matias, was that really the best you could come up with?
"Oh, um, I didn't realize that. I told you, I could hire someone to do this… I mean, I'll pay you, of course, but I'm just saying that if you don't have the time or the desire to—"
I glanced over my shoulder at him, which effectively silenced him. I was surprised to see that he was holding two bottles of beer in his hands. Was that the reason he'd come out here? To bring me a beer?
"I broke it, I fix it," I reminded him. I inwardly cursed when Sam's expression fell even further. God, why couldn't I just say the right thing? And why was it so important to me that I wanted to? I’d never once given a shit what people thought of me. Hell, my dad had spent years trying to beat certain words out of me. He’d never succeeded, of course. But definitely not from a lack of trying.
"Is that for me?" I finally asked, because I couldn't come up with anything better to break the tension that had arisen between us. Not that there wasn't always tension between us, but when Sam went silent, it was never a good thing.
"What? Oh, yeah, I brought you this. I don't even know if you drink. I mean, I don't very often, but I figured if I've ever earned the few extra calories, it would be this week." He let out a nervous laugh. I couldn't help but let my eyes trail up and down his body. He might not have been a gym rat, but I couldn't imagine him as anything other than perfect. The hunger that was an always present thing around Sam intensified and I found myself lowering the hammer in my hand as I stepped closer to him. I loved hearing him suck in a breath as I did so. He was so damn easy to read. And so fucking responsive. I thought about the way he'd come apart for me a few days earlier.