Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 93713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
“You want to go back to LA? Explain to Duncan exactly why you can’t share with me?” We’d finally reached the end of my considerable patience. I wanted to relax, sleep off the flight and long drive, not deal with Avery acting like he’d been given a life sentence.
“No. Of course not.” His chin jutted out.
“Then stop with this piss-poor attitude. Do you seriously think I’m going to assault you in your sleep or something?”
“I’m not scared of you.” He paused at the foot of my bed, face wrinkled like he knew he was over the line but wasn’t sure how to apologize.
“What the fuck is your deal then? I’ve tried being nice—”
“I know you have.” He played with the corner of my bedspread, probably unconsciously. The dude was always in motion, especially when uncomfortable. “It’s me, not you.”
“I’ve heard that a time or twenty.” Adjusting the pillows behind my neck, I gave him a hard look.
“No, I mean, I’m worried about myself. Me jumping you. Not the other way around.”
My jaw fell open, and I rolled it from side to side as I considered Avery more closely. “You got a history I should know about?”
“Not of violence.” His cheeks were bright pink now. “I’d never do anything nonconsensual. More like you’re tempting. Too tempting.
“You mean part of you wants more of what we did on Valentine’s?”
“Yeah.” Avery seemed rather down about what I considered good news. “Apparently, wanting what I can’t have makes me pissy. I’m sorry.”
“So, let’s talk about that.” I sat up more so I could meet his rapidly shifting gaze. “We’re here for several weeks. If you want a repeat, and I want a repeat—”
“Wait. You want a repeat?” His eyes went wide and startled.
“I wouldn’t be opposed. Casual sex isn’t my usual, but I’m on a break from serial monogamy. And like I’ve told you, that was an all-time best for me. Why wouldn’t I want more?”
Avery groaned like I’d gut-punched him. “Don’t tell me these things. It’s better if I just assume you’re not interested.”
“Better for whom?” Sure as hell wasn’t better for me, watching him tie himself in knots over something that should be way simpler.
“My sanity?”
“Avery, my friend, you are a mess.” I shook my head at him, more in sympathy than frustration, although there was a big shot of that too. “Screw who you want to screw. Worry about everything else later. As long as it’s safe and consensual, who cares?”
“I care.” He sounded so wounded that I wanted to hug him, but I was pretty sure that wouldn’t be welcome. I wished I could sort out his existential crisis for him, tell him it would all work out, but I wasn’t him. I couldn’t make those kinds of promises.
“I know you do, and all I can tell you is that you’re still the same person. Even if your label changes because you discovered something new about who you are, you’re still you, and you’re valid exactly as you are.”
“Thanks.” Avery looked on the verge of tears before he stomped his foot, pivoting to go sprawl on his bed. “Gah. My life.”
Clearly, even my best speeches weren’t working, and Avery’s issues weren’t going to be resolved in a single conversation. All I could offer him was space.
“Okay, drama king. It’s been a long day. I’m hitting the sack as soon as I change and take my meds.” I hefted myself out of bed to head to the bathroom.
“I’m sorry,” Avery said softly from his bed. “I know I’m a lot.”
“You’re actually not that extra. Or too much.” When he listened to me, I really enjoyed taking care of Avery. This flailing was hard to take, but it was also understandable. He’d upended his worldview of himself. “It would help, though, if you got out of your own way.”
“I’ll try.”
I wasn’t sure I believed him, but I nodded and went about the business of getting ready for bed, pulling on an old T-shirt along with my boxers. I always slept hot, and I wasn’t going to wear sweats to spare Avery’s eyes.
Or his sanity, which, judging by his tossing and turning, was under a siege of some sort.
“Dude, are you always this loud at night?” I finally had to ask.
“I’m loud?” He sounded surprised, which made me laugh.
“If you’re noisy enough to cut through my sleep meds, you for sure are.”
“Sorry.” His voice was muffled like he was talking into his pillow. “Can’t sleep.”
“I noticed.”
“I’m too…keyed up, I guess.” He flopped around yet again.
“Go shower,” I ordered, offering my old standby. “A long, hot shower will help.”
“Maybe.”
“And jerk off while you’re in there.” I punched a pillow, trying to get more comfortable myself.
“What?” He made a startled noise like an eighty-year-old librarian, not the dude who had recently confessed to wanting to jump my bones. And definitely not the dude who’d had his tongue halfway down my throat two weeks ago.