Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
C’mon, you can do it. You’re good at this, Fancy.
I might’ve balked if he’d handed me a crop top and short shorts, because hell no, but I’ll admit not knowing what we were about to do had enticed me. And that was so not me. I was a planner, not a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants guy. But somehow reuniting with Skylar made me feel like a kid again, like we were picking right back up where we’d left off.
And it was almost better knowing he wasn’t a commitment kind of guy, that the flirting between us would remain just that. To be perfectly accurate, the flirting was mostly one-sided because that was just Skylar’s personality, while I was woefully inept at it. When I’d first met Donald, he’d had to do all the work to get my number because I was both too rambly and too stilted to ask him first. I flushed, remembering twelve-year-old me blathering to Skylar at those first beginners gymnastics sessions until I got to know him better and we’d become friends.
It was bound to be the same as we reestablished our friendship as adults because I almost couldn’t help my reaction to him. He was still shockingly good-looking, but I never went for guys like him, plus we wanted different things, so flirting for fun would have to do.
We finished our lemonade and started our trek back to his apartment as he told me about his friend Jesse, whom he worked with at the Playground, and about some of the gorgeous men he encountered on a daily basis.
“That fact alone would make it hard to date you,” I pointed out. “Knowing you had that to look forward to every night.”
“I hope you’re not calling me shallow,” he countered, and though it was in a teasing voice, I could tell underneath he was offended. “Because I would be so fucking faithful if I ever wanted a relationship.”
“I absolutely don’t think that about you. It was more a reflection on the person you’d be dating. All I’m saying is, they’d have to be pretty confident, knowing the atmosphere you were heading into every night.”
“I hadn’t thought about it that way,” he replied in a faraway voice, as if considering it. “Makes sense, I guess, because my friend Jesse? He’s dating this guy Dane, who’s a bartender there, and even with them working in the same place, I can see how jealous Dane can get. Though it’s actually pretty hot and— Holy shit!”
I followed his line of sight as his building came into view, and now all the sirens we’d heard not thirty minutes ago made sense. His building was surrounded by fire trucks, and dozens of people stood on the sidewalks, pointing and watching in horror as thick, black smoke billowed out of the second-floor windows.
Skylar started running, and I followed him, praying his unit wasn’t affected. I didn’t think it was, given the door we exited from earlier, unless the fire had spread. Which…from the looks of it, it had.
Fuck, I felt sick. His apartment wasn’t a large space to begin with, and I could tell he was embarrassed about bringing me inside, but then he’d seemed to square his shoulders and say fuck it, which was more like the Skylar I knew.
Besides, even though I’d shown million-dollar properties and had a nice place of my own, making a real home was something different altogether. I’d had couples sign papers to purchase very modest homes they seemed to cherish as much as they did each other. And then there was the other end of the spectrum, with relationships that seemed as hollow as their voluminous houses. Space and luxury didn’t necessarily matter, as long as you felt comfortable and made it your own. And Skylar definitely had, with all his clothing strewn about. It had actually made me smile.
Skylar pressed through the crowd to get as close as he could to the building, though the police officers on-site were telling everyone to stay back.
“What the fuck happened?” Skylar asked a man who looked as shell-shocked as him, and I could only assume he was a neighbor.
“The fire was in the Rundells’ apartment.” He pointed toward a woman and teenager standing with a blanket wrapped around them, eyes haunted. “It was lucky they got out. Something about a potholder catching on fire on the stove burner. We’re all waiting to see how much damage there is to the building, once they’ve put it out.”
“Did the fire alarms sound?” Skylar asked. “Is that how you all got out?”
“Yeah, at least on one end of the building.” He glanced over Skylar’s shoulder, then lowered his voice. “Not sure about the others, but they didn’t say anyone was still trapped inside.”
“Fucking hell.” Skylar threaded his hands behind his head and started pacing.
I watched the firefighters in action as he spoke to a few other neighbors waiting on the sidewalk. I wondered if the landlord was around. Skylar’s place looked decent enough, if a bit worn, but that was about visual updates, not building maintenance.