Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 95025 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95025 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
“Wow. I didn’t even feel it.”
“Mmm hmm,” Cayson replied halfheartedly, staying focused on the job. He clicked on the couple of vials, filling them just enough to run the tests, before removing the needle. He handed Quick a gauze square for him to put over the pinprick. He knew his tone was forced and clipped, but he couldn’t help it anymore. “Hold it here for a few seconds.”
He was hurting now. Still not bothering to look Quick in the eye, Cayson pulled out the three-container storage unit and properly placed the labeled vials in the container. “I’ll have the test results by tomorrow afternoon. If I don’t call, that means everything is good. No news is good news from a doctor.” Cayson finally rose to his feet and made sure he had the dock charger for the X-ray tablet in his bag before he closed it. He didn’t bother saying anything else. He had Quick’s email and mailing addresses. He’d send him some pamphlets on healing ribs later. Right now, he had to get the hell out of there before he lost it. He was embarrassed, sweating, and he felt like a fool. He knew he was on rocky terrain with Quick, but he’d at least thought Duke and Vaughan were his friends. Guess I was wrong. Again.
“I think you should call anyway,” Quick grunted, sitting back up. Quick slammed the recliner down and stood up, stretching his long torso, in turn making those loose pants slide down to an obscene level. As soon as Cayson’s eyes diverted, Quick noticed it and chuckled at him. “You like?”
Cayson narrowed his eyes and just barely refrained from taking a swing at Quick. He was furious, not suicidal. But, that bastard. Did he like? Was he serious? Cayson had showed his “like” before and Quick had a shit fit that time. What the hell was going on now? “You know what. Grow up, Roman.” Cayson hefted his bag on his shoulder and raced for the front door. He was across the spacious living room and yanking on the door handle by the time Quick realized what was happening and called out to him, but he wasn’t stopping.
“Cayson, wait! Don’t leave. I wasn’t—” Quick couldn’t move as fast as Cayson because of his tender ribs. “I’m sorry.”
Ignoring the words, Cayson was so happy when he was finally outside Quick’s playhouse and safe. It wasn’t until he shivered trying to get his key in the car door that he realized he’d left his good parka behind. He looked up and saw Quick wearing a confused expression. Probably wondering why his trap didn’t work. Fool him once, shame on you.
Quick
Quick watched Cayson burn rubber out of his driveway in his little Prius hybrid, his face a mask of anger and betrayal through the thick windshield. Closing his door on the bitter cold that was beating against his flushed skin; he locked both locks and leaned until his forehead was against the smooth wood surface. Now what did I do? Walking back through his living room, he looked through the blinds to see if maybe Cayson had circled back around, but of course, he hadn’t. Had Quick come on too strong? He couldn’t help that his cock took interest when the sweet doctor took off those gloves and began to lovingly caress his back. That wasn’t a fuckin’ exam. He’d had plenty exams, none ever felt like that. Feather-light fingertips just barely grazing his body, hot breaths blowing against his moist skin. And Quick didn’t miss the doc’s erection, either. No matter how hard he tried to hide it.
Disgusted and tired, Quick picked up his cell phone off the breakfast bar. Damnit. Now he knew exactly how Cayson had felt when Quick had shot down his advances before and thrown him out. Sighing in frustration over blowing his last chance, he called his best friend. When it began to ring, he switched to speaker while he powered up his laptop to order his dinner, too tired to make his preplanned chili.
“Yo.” Duke’s rough voice came through his cell speaker.
Quick rubbed his still aching head, not even sure how to start this conversation.
“Quick? What up, man?”
“Duke. I thought you said the doc was interested. What the fuck, man? He flew outta here faster than a felon on a revoked bond.”
Duke chuckled lightly, but Quick wasn’t laughing.
“What happened, Rome? Oh, never mind. I’ll be there in ten.”
Quick frowned when he realized Duke had hung up. He was coming over. Meaning he actually had time for him. Quick rolled his eyes. He felt like an idiot. How could a man feel good about himself when he was feeling sour because his son ran off with his best friend? It was absurd. Quick’s food hadn’t even arrived yet, and Duke was coming through his front door, using his key. He had on a no-name pair of sweat pants and a thick Atlanta Falcons hoodie. When he yanked it off, his black and silver hair stuck up in various directions. His cheeks were covered with dark stubble, but Quick could easily see the redness from the cold underneath it.