Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
“I’m already spoken for,” Brady Finn says with a friendly smile. “But I’ll assume you’re talking about your beer.”
“Never assume, big guy.” This from the boyfriend. He appears right beside Brady with a wicked curve on his lips. “You are thick. And potent. But I’m the only one who gets a taste.”
“You’re making him blush,” a new voice observes quietly.
No.
He can’t be here. I was good and resisted temptation. I walked away. When I glance up to verify his presence, the blush he’s referring to blazes hotter across my cheeks.
Zeus.
And I’m dead. I’ll just sit here and hope the floor opens to swallow me up soon. Or they all disappear. Whichever comes first.
Chapter Two
Two gay icons, a Greek god and a firefighter walk up to me in a bar…
The start of an epically dirty joke? No, this is really happening. I’m wide-awake and Zeus is within touching distance.
This couldn’t possibly go horribly wrong and end in tears.
Wyatt is still apologizing to Fiona and trying to “wipe” his beer off her breasts, but she pushes his mischievous hands away and smiles up at my hallucinations. “Hey Brady. Ken. I thought you’d be tied to the dart board all night.”
“I’d rather tie him to things in private,” Ken winks at her. “But he promised Owen we’d come out for a drink, so here we are.”
Brady sends his fiancé a heated look before lifting his massive shoulders in agitation. “That was the plan, but I’m not sure why we bothered. He sent a text five minutes ago. He and Jeremy decided to stay home. Said he didn’t think we’d mind since we already had company.”
What kind of company? Just friends company? Ménage company?
“They’re staying home again?” Wyatt sounds so disappointed it distracts me from my Zeus obsession. Maybe it’s the journalism major in me. You know how people are always saying they wished they’d been a fly on the wall for these kinds of conversations? There are Finns at Finn’s pub discussing Finn things right in front of me. I’m finally the fly.
That sounded more impressive in my head.
“They’re acting like an old married couple again.”
“They are an old married couple, idiot.”
Wyatt shakes his head in irritation. “Not that old. We haven’t hung out with him in months. You’d think they’d want to come up for air occasionally. Hell, you’d think Owen had never had sex until they got together, and we all know that’s not true. The guy was with a different woman every night.”
But he married a man, you sweet summer child.
I bite my cheek to keep from smiling when Fiona appears to be thinking along the same lines. “You’ve never had truly great sex before, have you, Wyatt?”
His glare is defensive. “All I’m saying is when you make plans with family you should keep them.” He looks down at his knuckles and I hear him muttering to himself. “Never had…yeah, right…I’ll show you great sex…”
This is so much better than my date.
Ken shares a look with Zeus before nodding in my direction. “Who do we have here, Fiona?”
“We have here a Mr. JD Green. He’s a good friend of mine who needs our help recovering from a bad date.”
“Fiona.” Why would she say that in front of them? In front of him?
The ginger decides to take pity on me and holds out his hand. “Nice to meet you, JD. I’m Brady Finn and this is my fiancé, Ken Tanaka.”
“I know,” I tell him, after waiting a beat for him to introduce his company. He doesn’t, and it’s frustrating enough to make me forget myself. “Nice to drink you.”
Shit.
“Nice to meet you,” I repeat, setting my mug down carefully. “I should slow down with this recovery plan of Fiona’s. My filter is gone.”
This is the lie I tell in social settings to make people feel better about talking to a crazy person. I’ve never had a filter. I was born with a full head of hair, a birthmark shaped like a half-eaten slice of pizza on my hip, and shitty conversational skills.
Ken laughs and slips his arm through Brady’s. Unconscious possession, I note absently. No jealousy, just pride and the kind of love that hurts to look at. “Where did you two meet?”
Fiona swiftly hails my brilliance, mentions the courses we’ve taken together and the fact that I work online without going into specifics. But when she starts to describe this evening’s crash and burn episode, or at least, what she observed of the disaster? “Not cool, friend.”
I think our next togetherness class needs to be Etiquette 101.
“I’m getting you a second opinion, friend. You need to stop letting your neighbor find your dates. That girl has horrible taste in men.”
She doesn’t know the half of it. Toni moved next door to me four months ago, after her abusive ex had beaten her for what she’d decided was the last time.