Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92569 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92569 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Feeling this way about Cooper confused me even more because I hadn’t ever thought that it would be a guy who finally flipped my switch. And what did that mean, exactly? Did that mean that I was a sexual person, I was just gay? And maybe because gay wasn’t all that well-known where I grew up, I just… didn’t have that option?
It reminded me of the time my dad had brought home a baby goat and we’d all gone nuts over how damned cute it was. The little puffy-coated guy hopped around without a care in the world and made me feel all bubbly inside. Up to that point, I’d never seen a baby goat and hadn’t known what I was missing. But now… now that I knew baby goats were a thing… I’d begged my dad for more of them. I couldn’t stop thinking of them. They were so cute and fun to watch. How had I spent several years of my life without knowing the joy a hopping little goat kid could bring to a farm? If I’d had any idea, I would have been begging my dad for one way sooner than that.
That’s kind of how I was feeling now after kissing Cooper. Was I gay? And now that I was in a situation where I was kind of “allowed” to be gay, was it something I wanted to find out about for sure? And then… what if I liked it? What if I discovered I really was gay and then I went home to Wheatland and my family? What would my life be like then? What would my family think?
“Pretty sure you got all the lumps out, big guy.”
I blinked up at Cooper, who was cutting up some vegetables on the little kitchen counter for dinner. I’d been stirring a bowl of brownie mix like he’d asked, but who knew how long I’d been at it. I looked down at the shiny brown batter. “Okay.”
I stood up from the booth bench to pour the batter into the pan Cooper had prepared. Once I slid it into the little propane oven, I sat back down and reached for my laptop to distract myself with some video editing.
“Hey.” Cooper squatted down next to me with a concerned look on his face. “You’ve been in a funk all afternoon. Did I do something to upset you?”
I shook my head and went back to my work.
“Is it the kiss? Are you pissed about that?”
Definitely not. I’d really liked the kiss. But I sure as hell wasn’t telling him that. He’d tease me like crazy. So I shook my head again without looking at him.
“Will you please say something?” He didn’t sound angry so much as exasperated.
I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. “I’m fine.”
He groaned and stood up, throwing his hands up dramatically. “Fine. He’s fine. A man of few words, this guy. Fine. You’re fine. We’re all fine. Jesus.”
He went back to fixing our dinner.
“You like to cook,” I said, trying to make a better effort. “Eli cooks too. Kind of surprises me. He’s not really the cooking type.”
“Yeah. Remember when we moved into that apartment junior year and those two guys bailed on us?”
“I think so. They were supposed to help pay rent?”
He nodded. “Money was so tight after that, Eli and I had to cook at home. We got sick of ramen and shit, so we started getting creative. Your mom brought us a box of cookbooks from the thrift store to help us out. Then it kind of became a competition to see who could cook the best shit.”
I chuckled. “Everything with you two is a competition.”
“True. But I’ll tell you… the man cooks a damned fine brisket. And some day you need to get him to make you his sweet potato fries. He puts some kind of spice on them that he won’t reveal, but it’s legendary.”
My eyes followed him as he moved around the tiny space. “He made the brisket for Jessica’s high school graduation party. It was a big hit. What’s your specialty or, like, your favorite thing to make?” This was me trying harder not to be a grunting Neanderthal.
Cooper grinned. “I do a chicken rice bowl that I’ve perfected over years of tinkering. It’s definitely something I’ll be making this summer multiple times. Oh, and I also make a mean banana bread.”
“I love banana bread.” For some reason, I felt my ears heat. Why were we talking about bananas again?
The evening air blew in on a gentle breeze through the screen-covered windows. It was cooling off quickly, which was good since using the stove and oven heated up the RV.
We’d ended up spending the afternoon clearing debris from inside the cabin so I could start repairing the subflooring first. After that, I would work on the framing and external walls and then the roof. Hopefully by then the windows would be here.