Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 35498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
“I don’t know what that is, but it has a nice ring to it.” Oliver’s eyes were wider than usual. “Just to clarify, you’re trying to get me, a gay man, to date you by telling me all about your slutty, kinky sex with strange women you didn’t even like?”
“Fuck,” he swore, wishing for a slug of whiskey or a time machine. “You asked for details. Was I not supposed to give them?”
“Some people are fans of self-editing,” Oliver said, sounding dazed. “But you’re right, I asked. And I know you’re being honest. Who would lie about something like that? It makes you sound like a gobshite.”
Matthew snorted, met Oliver’s gaze and a second later they were both laughing loud enough to draw a few glares. When they stopped to catch their breath, Matthew couldn’t help but feel relieved. “You’re still here.”
“Looks like it. But for future reference, never share that story on a first date again. Sexual histories come later, once you’ve hooked them with your irresistible personality.”
“I’ve heard that advice before.”
Oliver couldn’t stop shaking his head. “I can’t get over you never going on a date. What about high school? With your looks, I’d have bet money all the girls would be chasing you down the hall for a date to the dance.”
“I never went to any dances either.” Matthew caught his expression and laughed. “You look like I’ve admitted to murdering a puppy.”
“You never went to a dance?” Oliver repeated. “Were you homeschooled? Are you from another planet?”
“You could say that. My life was very different in Ireland. I didn’t exactly hang out with a good crowd. The kind that went to dances and took their dates to the malt shop.”
“I don’t think anyone’s been to a malt shop since the fifties, but continue,” Oliver said with a cheeky grin.
“That’s really the gist of it. Anyone I’d want to date would have steered well clear of me back then. William and I come from the crooked branch of the family tree.”
“That’s hard to believe.” Oliver brushed off his words. “The last time I saw your brother, he was on the phone with his wife, reading her a book on child rearing. He was discussing first poops and cradle safety out loud, and in front of other men. You can’t get more wholesome than that. And you don’t strike me as a criminal mastermind either.”
“Crooked, not a crook,” he corrected. “I appreciate the vote of confidence, and the information about my brother’s reading habits though.”
He was absolutely going to tease William about that later.
“Technically I’ve never been on the run from the law, but compared to my cousins? Let’s just say the Finn name was never associated with firefighters, police officers, or a sitting state senator. Not until those paragons came along. Local heroes, every one.”
“Not your family in Ireland?”
Matthew’s father had gambled himself and his wife to an early grave, leaving the three children with a loony old man who was physically incapable of putting food on the table. William had been forced to leave school and get a job as muscle for the local criminal element, while Matthew and Kate were expected to pretend that everything was normal when everyone knew it wasn’t. Above all, they were expected to resist their family’s tendency to get themselves in trouble.
They hadn’t always succeeded. And that last time… Well, it was a good thing they’d left when they did.
Not something you talk about with someone you’re trying to impress.
“We had a rocky start. But thanks to Bronte, William has a second chance to get things right. And thanks to William, Calamity and I do as well.”
“Calamity?”
“My little sister, Kate.” Matthew’s head shook ruefully. “You’re still doing it. How is it that I’m the one gabbing like a guilty man in confession when it’s you I’m interested in?”
Oliver entwined his fingers with Matthew’s on the table. “You’re telling me what an undeserving git you are so I’ll trust you,” he reminded him lightly. “Black sheep, easy virtue, boring job—you’ve covered most of the basics. And I heard you throw in the words kink and club earlier, so now I’ve got that visual to haunt me at night.”
Matthew’s lips twitched. “A package like that is hard to resist, yeah?”
“Impossible.”
His laughter was captivating, though the fact that he was laughing at all was a damn miracle to Matthew. It seemed the deeper the hole he dug for himself, the more Oliver relaxed around him.
He wasn’t lying. For the first time in his sexually deviant life, hearing what this man had to say was just as important as getting him naked. More important.
Don’t go crazy, Matthew.
“Not to ruin my streak, but can I ask you a question now? Have you always known?”
“That I was gay?” Oliver nodded. “Always. Only it’s not as trendy in my family as it is in yours.”