Starting from Scratch Read online Lane Hayes (Starting From #2)

Categories Genre: Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Starting from Series by Lane Hayes
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Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
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“Just these,” I choked.

“Ah, party favors. Looks like we’re set.” Ky’s ear-to-ear grin was cocky as hell and annoyingly contagious. He grabbed a sweatshirt from the hook near the front door and tilted his head toward the balcony. “Let’s go outside. I’ll take the Cheetos and my beer. You bring the wine and rubbers. Just in case.”

I rolled my eyes and picked up my mug before following him onto the balcony.

The evening air felt crisp and refreshing. I gazed at the clear sky, counting a few stars as I inhaled the sweet ocean breeze and released a contented sigh.

“It’s a beautiful night.”

“It is. I wish the view was better.” He pointed at the office building across the alley and shrugged before taking a swig of beer. “If you crane your neck to the right you can see a glimpse of the sand from here in the daylight.”

“Do you go to the beach every day?” I asked before taking a sip of wine.

“Yep. I surf every morning and if I have time, I ride down the boardwalk to the park to get some runs in before I meet the band.”

“What does ‘ride down the boardwalk’ mean?”

Ky shot a sideways glance at me and shook his head. “It means I trade a surfboard for a skateboard.”

“Is that before or after you’ve had coffee?”

“Before,” he replied with a laugh. “You gotta be in the water by sunrise to beat the crowds. And I can tell from that judgy tone in your voice that you don’t approve.” Ky took a swig of beer, then tossed the bag of Cheetos on a low table before sinking into the chair closest to the stucco wall. “Come sit and tell me all about it.”

I obeyed, idly watching his wrist as he lit the huge candle on the table between us. “I don’t disapprove. I just don’t understand your world. We come from very different places. That’s all.”

“Dude, that is the understatement of the century,” Ky said, ripping open the bag and offering it to me. “And as you probably caught on from that scene at the bar…my family is seriously fucked up.”

I took a few of the orange snacks and grimaced. “These aren’t as tasty as I remembered. Maybe they’re better when you’re high.”

“Maybe. And they don’t go well with wine.”

“True.”

We were quiet for a moment. It was a pleasant kind of silence, but he’d given me an opening, and I couldn’t let it slide.

“I’m sorry about your dad,” I said softly. Ky nodded in acknowledgment, then leaned forward with his elbows braced on his knees. “It’s terrible news and it definitely gives one perspective.”

“What do you mean?”

“Fretting over a stupid record deal is embarrassing. It doesn’t compare. It makes you realize how we get caught up in everyday drama and forget to look at the big picture and appreciate what we have.”

“Maybe. But he’s not your dad,” Ky said flippantly.

“No. I’d be devastated if Dad or Gray—God, I can’t even think about it.” I shook my head as if to erase the thought before continuing. “I’m so sorry. Even if you’re not on good terms with your fath—”

“I’m not. I haven’t seen him in years. He showed up at my mom’s funeral out of the fucking blue. We had words and agreed we were both better off going our separate ways and not letting our paths cross again. Ever.”

“Gee, and then he had the audacity to get sick and ask to see you. Sounds awful,” I huffed sarcastically.

“Back off, Charlie. You have no idea who he is or what he did. Don’t even think about judging me,” he hissed.

I set the mug down and held my hands up in surrender. “You’re right. I’m sorry. And I’m sorry about your mom too. She must have been young. What happened?”

“Cancer,” he replied swiftly.

“Oh, Ky.”

He let out a ragged sigh and pursed his lips. I studied his profile in the shadows and waited for him to tell me something before I started asking a million questions I shouldn’t. “She was fifty. She had breast cancer when I was a teenager. She beat it…physically anyway. Mentally…it got her.”

“What do you mean?”

“She had serious mental health issues. She was bipolar with heavy bouts of depression. She was hard to know. Don’t get me wrong. She wasn’t sad all the time. She was just…closed off, you know? When she got diagnosed again, she gave up. She swallowed a bottle of pills and ended it.” He turned to me then. “That was four years ago. I wasn’t in the country when it happened. I think I was in Amsterdam. I can’t remember. Karly found her and called me and—it was just an ugly time, you know?”

I nodded solemnly. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too. I’m sorry for a lot of things. I felt guilty I wasn’t here, guilty he was. I don’t want to do this again. Any version of it. I suck at the hard stuff. I’m never where I’m supposed to be, never on time. I never get it right. If I didn’t have Zero, I swear I’d be packing my bags right now. And that’s the honest fuckin’ truth.”


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