Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“Fabulous.” She looked Zack over in a way that made his stomach cramp. Unlike when Pike scoped you out. He knew her gaze was supposed to make his blood hum, make him start thinking sexy things, but instead it kind of creeped him out.
“Hey—” Zack started to protest, but the woman was already grabbing his wrist.
You’re the one who’s always on about how straight you are, Pike’s eyes said as he didn’t move at all to rescue Zack, instead saying, “Go on now. I’ll keep the table and order some fries for when you get back.”
Nothing to do other than drain his beer in one swallow and follow the woman to the dance floor at the far end of the establishment, separated from the rest of the bar by a low wall.
She was cute in a little silver tank top and smelled liked the wisteria in his mom’s front yard, and Zack supposed he should be thinking how good her chest looked in the tight top or how much he wanted that scent all over him, but...yeah, not happening. Still, though, he’d been down this road enough times to know the drill, and he liked dancing, liked letting music move through him, even if the partner stuff did get tricky. The dance mix pumped out a fast beat, enabling him to keep space between them. And she was good, not stomping his feet or draping herself all over him. One dance and he’d politely send her back to her friends.
Near them, a couple—a guy-guy couple to be exact—danced super close. Fuck. One of them wore some sort of spicy aftershave and had a low chuckle for his partner that went right to Zack’s gut. The two shared a private look and a kiss so dirty that Zack couldn’t look away. He’d seen Ryan cuddle up to his boyfriend a couple of times, but that sort of playfulness was a far cry from this...fireworks show inches from him.
“Hey.” The woman tugged on his arm. “Your friend was wrong, wasn’t he?”
“What?” Zack forced his eyes back to her. “Just...not used to...never mind.”
“It’s okay.” She gave him a knowing smile. “Thanks for the dance.” And she headed back to her friends with a little flip of her hair. Fuck. Zack had been figuring he’d buy her a drink, get her off the scent of whatever trail she thought she was on, but she’d dismissed him, clear as day.
“Strike out?” Pike asked when Zack made his way back to the table.
“She had to get back to her friends.” Zack tried to sound regretful but doubted he was all that convincing.
“Fry?” Pike passed him a basket of sweet potato fries with some sort of mayo-based dipping sauce that was far spicier than it looked.
“Whoa.” Zack fanned his mouth, then noticed his beer had already been refilled. He took a swig. “Thanks, man.”
“Not into spicy?” Pike managed to make the question sound rather suggestive.
Zack could survive hours of surf torture, but he couldn’t control his blush. “Nah.”
“That’s okay.” Pike swiped a ketchup out of the condiment display on the back edge of their table, passed it to him. “Simple’s good too.”
Zack honestly wasn’t sure whether they were talking about fries anymore, but he nodded. “So...crap week?” he asked partly to avoid a long awkward silence and partly because he figured even Pike couldn’t flirt while bitching.
“Oh man, you have no idea. Defended my dissertation back in the winter. I thought I had a job all lined up with War Elf—”
“That huge role-playing game?”
“Yeah. I did my dissertation on a statistical analysis model of their users’ usage habits over time.”
“Impressive.” Zack blinked. He had a degree himself, but his BA in history didn’t include the wherewithal to decipher all the lingo needed for a math PhD.
“Yeah, anyway, I was told they might have a place for me, but they don’t, so now I’m stuck tossing my hat in the teaching ring. And it sucks.”
“You don’t want to teach?”
“Do I look like professor material?” Pike gestured at himself. Zack let himself do the one thing he tried to avoid and really looked at Pike—faded T-shirt advertising the game Ryan’s boyfriend worked for, ripped jeans. Surprisingly full pink lips. Twinkling green eyes—wait. Clothes. He was supposed to be noticing clothes.
“Not exactly,” Zack mumbled into his napkin.
“I had to wear a suit three times this week,” Pike moaned.
“Dude, until you have to wear the same soggy BDUs for five days running, you don’t get to complain.”
“Okay, okay, you win. I’m just saying that this whole adulting thing bites.”
Zack had seen enough suckage in his life to decide that “adulting” was practically a vacation, but he nodded because a “suck it up, buttercup” wasn’t going to go over well with Pike’s pity party.
“You know what we should do?” Pike brightened, getting a gleam in his eye that frightened Zack more than a live grenade. “Shots. We need to do shots.”