Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 139186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Jake had only once visited New York City, back at school, and he hadn’t appreciated its vastness, too busy finding places where he could smoke without being discovered by a teacher rather than sightseeing. His reaction to the city hadn’t changed much since then, as even driving through Manhattan on his bike had felt like an assault on his senses. He wasn’t entirely used to the smell of the city or the masses of anonymous faces rolling on either side of the road like ants. The air here had a choking quality to it and left a sour aftertaste in his mouth. Seeing the skyscrapers and other tall buildings crowd around the greenery of the park only enforced the sense of oppression that he’d never felt back at home, or really anywhere else.
The luxury of Mr. Magpie’s home did make it slightly more bearable though. They’d left their motorcycles in an underground garage among a crowd of expensive cars, and staff assisted them every step of the way to this room. The elegant lady who’d welcomed them with snacks earlier took Vars with her, and being left to his own devices in a room that screamed luxury made Jake feel even more out of place. What if he broke some trinket?
Knight tucked himself back in and casually slid into a modern chaise lounge, before pouring himself a glass of vintage whiskey. “Oh, you know, with Elliot it just happens naturally.”
Jake took his time considering where to sit. Not only because there was an array of choices ranging from armchairs to a brocade beanbag, but also because everything was so clean he worried he’d get it mucky after so many hours on the road. But Knight didn’t seem to be concerned and even put his filthy boots on the coffee table, so Jake carefully took a seat on a soft gray footstool.
“What do you mean it ‘happens’? How… how do you know that he is the person you want to be with?” In truth, the question had a double meaning, because things with Vars moved so fast he could barely catch his breath, yet Jake had never felt so right with anyone. Like he’d been a box full of puzzle pieces which everyone kept shaking, and Vars not only put him together, but was the element Jake hadn’t realized was missing.
Knight moved his hand to make the huge round ice cubes spin in the rich brown whiskey and took a sip. “When I look at it logically, I think we just have so much to talk about. I never had that with any of my girlfriends, but that’s not all. I wanted to back out when he suggested he wanted us to be exclusive, but... I don’t know, I just couldn’t stand knowing that I wouldn’t be with him anymore. It was like a physical discomfort. When I look at him, it feels like he’s the most beautiful thing I ever saw. I can’t really explain it.”
Jake smiled, somehow hating Elliot less just because of the affection with which Knight spoke about him. “No, I think I get it.” Vars made him feel like that. Like no one else mattered anymore.
Talking about this kind of stuff was somehow easier here, at Mr. Magpie’s skyscraper that was nothing like home. Being here felt like a dream, a place where he could express himself without facing consequences. All the smooth surfaces were polished so that Jake could see his own reflection, and the rough ones, like the wall of bare concrete behind Knight, invited touch to find out their texture. A golden canvas broke the shades of gray used for decorating the room, and the thick paint seemed still wet, as if it was about to drip onto the couch below.
Another world altogether, where it didn’t even matter if Jake fitted in or not, since he was only a guest anyway.
Knight made the ice in his drink jangle for a while before speaking again. “Is there someone you want to tell me about?” he asked with a tactfulness no one would ever expect of him. Definitely not Jake.
Jake groaned and looked out the floor-length window. “You know who.”
Knight rolled his eyes and leaned back in the chaise lounge. “Well, I’m sorry for trying to be nice about it. When did it start? Is he... the kind of man who commands respect?” Knight asked in a honey-dripping voice. The tactful behavior hadn’t lasted for long, and the normal Knight was back.
Jake groaned. “Maybe.”
Knight hummed knowingly and took another sip of the whiskey. “I won’t lie. As much fun as you’ve had with all of us, maybe it’s for the best. He seems to care about you. By the way, you need to try this shit, Jake,” he added, raising the glass.
Jake leaned forward and poured himself some of the golden alcohol, realizing that he might actually need some liquid courage if he was to talk to Knight about this. “He’s… different. I just don’t know if I can give him what he actually wants.”