Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“Maybe.” He leaned in for another quick kiss.
“At least your music is better than my dad’s.” I chuckled thinking of every car ride growing up. “I swear he listens to the most grandpa of grandpa music.”
“Speaking of our favorite firefighter, have you seen your dad lately?” Jonas phrased the question too carefully to be spontaneous.
“Some.” I spent a lot of time trying to avoid thinking about my dad.
“How are the cats?” Jonas seemed to have no such difficulty.
“I haven’t been inside their place lately,” I admitted with an airy wave. “It’s more just seeing each other in passing.”
“I see.” Jonas gave me a pointed look.
I grinned in response, forcing a light tone. “I don’t want him—or anyone else—guessing what we’re up to.”
“Doing laundry?” He held up a stack of folded T-shirts.
“You know what I mean.” I gave him a pout that wasn’t proving my maturity, but I so didn’t want to talk about my dad.
“Trust me, I don’t want him knowing about us—this—either, but you could talk to him about…other stuff.” Jonas had been quick to correct himself, but perversely, I liked that us. I liked being a duo with him, even if we couldn’t have anyone knowing about it. But the idea of talking to my dad? Please no.
“You mean come out?” I went ahead and called Jonas on what he was inevitably getting at.
“To him. To a counselor. Some other trusted queer friend. You can’t keep everything all bottled up.”
“I don’t.” I glared at him, hating how he sighed.
“Declan…”
“I’m not repressed.” I pulled off my T-shirt because conversation was overrated. Some more kissing was needed, and pronto. “And I know what I like. And what I like is you.” I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Isn’t that good enough?”
I swallowed his frustrated huff, offering him sweet kisses that quickly turned heated until I heard the creak of the basement door and footsteps on the stairs.
Crap. I’d forgotten to lock the door.
“Hey.” I grabbed my basket, trying to look like I did laundry without a shirt all the time. “I’m just…finishing a load.”
Of course, I’d been planning a different type of load. But now I had no choice but to head upstairs.
“Take your time.” Eric waved a hand as he set his basket near the empty washer. “Nice to see you feeling up to doing the stairs.”
“Yeah, being more active feels great.” I adjusted my basket, trying to hide my very active boner. Needing to redirect, I motioned at the navy sweater on top of Eric’s basket. “That’s a cool sweater.”
“Oh. That. Yeah. Montgomery always did like me in navy blue.” Eric’s cheeks turned pink. “It’s probably too nice for drinks with my crew…”
“Wear the shirt.” Jonas put on his stern voice. It was always fun to watch him and Eric bicker like brothers. “Have a good time. Maybe stay out past your bedtime.”
“No more lectures about socializing.” Eric threw up his hands after he finished loading the washer.
“You need it.” Jonas wagged a finger back at him.
“Declan, save me!” Eric let out a frustrated laugh.
“Ha. I like going out sometimes.” Even now, owning up to my homebody nature to anyone other than Jonas felt a bit…weird. “And maybe I like Jonas’s lectures.”
“Do you now?” Eric’s eyebrows shot up.
“I was joking,” I mumbled, but there was absolutely nothing funny about my feelings for Jonas. I’d never been this serious about anyone and that was a big problem, indeed.
Chapter Fifteen
Jonas
Yet another round of snow drifted outside the hospital windows, a dark and gloomy early evening waiting to greet me after my shift. Mount Hope had received a record amount of snow this month, but as I packed up my things in the locker room, my mind was more focused on a personal record.
I might have lost the battle to resist Declan, but I’d won a January to remember because Declan and I had kept our super-secret late-night fling going. Except fling seemed the wrong word for something based around a growing friendship rather than lust. There were nights when we cuddled while I read aloud, and we didn’t end up getting off. And other times when cleaning the kitchen would lead to a two-hour chat. In my experience, sex-only flings didn’t include the amount of talking and care we had going.
“You look sharp.” Judy, my friend and fellow NP, shook out her gray ponytail as she strode into the locker room. “Long day of meetings?”
“Yep.” I wore a blue button-down and gray slacks in deference to a packed schedule of administrative meetings. As the emergency department nursing supervisor, I walked a tightrope between advocating for my fellow nurses’ needs and serving the hospital’s whims and its never-ending stack of regulations. “More staffing issues. The hospital wants to reduce the number of traveling nurses, but as usual, they don’t want to pony up for more permanent positions.”