Starting From Somewhere (Starting From #4) Read Online Lane Hayes

Categories Genre: M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Starting from Series by Lane Hayes
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Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
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“Y-yes,” he replied dreamily, blinking to meet my gaze. “Wow. You’re a good kisser.”

“Thanks.” I popped his butt and scowled at him. “What was that crack about you not being my type?”

His adoring grin dipped. “Ow. Did you just…did you spank me?”

“I did.” I held his chin, pressing featherlight kisses on his lips. “You must know I’m crazy attracted to you, Cody boy. I wouldn’t have spent the rest of my night at the bar if I wasn’t. And for your information, I don’t have a type.”

He cocked his head. “No offense, but that seems suspicious. Everyone has a type,” he argued.

“Who’s yours?”

“Tall, dark, manly, and unattainable. Like you.”

I grinned. “You’re definitely flirting with me.”

“I’m a quick study,” he bragged.

“You are. And I’m very attracted to you.”

“But…”

I didn’t answer him. I tucked a strand of hair behind his ears and swiped my thumb over his bottom lip, letting my gaze roam as I memorized his features. What a funny evening. How had I gone from a friendly beer after a day in the studio to here? Better question…why didn’t I want to leave?

I leaned in again and traced the seam of his lips with the tip of my tongue. “No buts.”

Cody moaned aloud, grabbed a fistful of my shirt, and writhed, rubbing his obvious erection against my upper thigh before capturing my mouth in a searing kiss.

Here’s the deal…I crumbled. All my best intentions faded faster than a fart in a fan factory. He was sweet and sexy and dammit, the way he looked at me made my heart flip and my dick swell in my jeans. Hey, I knew I should have reset my walls and gently pushed him away, but it wasn’t that easy. My body was not in sync with my mind. At all.

“Oh, my God. That’s so…more. Please. More.”

He whimpered when I pulled back slightly. “Shh. We can’t screw around out here. We’re in a public parking lot.”

“You’re right. Come to my house. Oh, wait. My roommate might be home and—”

“Cody…”

“What? I’m being confident, brave, and sincere. According to your calculations, I’m killing this flirtation thing.”

“You are,” I assured him with a smile. “Too well. Listen, give me your number. I’ll text you and we can—”

“Death knell. Abort mission, abort mission,” he proclaimed, lifting his hands in the air and sliding out of my arms. “Thank you for the drink. It was nice to meet you. Get your eyes checked, pronto, and…have a good life. Bye!”

Cody jumped into his car, revved the engine, and peeled out of his parking space in seconds flat. It was actually pretty damn impressive.

And me? I stood with my hands at my sides and my brows furrowed, wondering what the hell had just happened.

2

Cody

My cell buzzed early Sunday morning. I winced in pain as I reached for it.

“ ’Lo?”

“How is your sunburn treating you?”

“Terribly. I’m a lobster,” I reported.

“Did you use aloe?”

“Not yet. Why are you calling me? Aren’t you in the next room?”

“Yes, I meant to text, but you know how that goes. Can I come in?”

“Sure.”

I sat up gingerly, checking the time on my cell before setting it face-down on my nightstand. Nine thirty a.m. My only successful act of rebellion-slash-try-something-new-and-daring…I’d finally managed to sleep in till after nine on a weekend. Yay me. The rest of my free week had been a complete bomb.

What was the problem? Well, I was a recent graduate school grad who’d spent every waking minute of his life studying and working toward lofty goals that by rights should have taken years to come to fruition. I had an incredible job opportunity with the Jet Propulsion Lab on the horizon, which meant I had to do “all the things” in roughly two and a half months. I had to make memories, try things I’d never tried, have experiences I’d never dreamed of. If I had the money, I would have hopped a plane and studied art history in Europe for the summer. However, as my best friend, Topher, pointed out, studying all summer defeated the purpose.

And what was the purpose? I really wasn’t sure anymore.

See, my friends and I had noticed that our academic fervor left us feeling rather unfulfilled in our personal lives. None of us dated much or went anywhere that wasn’t directly affiliated with school. We decided we needed to break out of our scholastic cocoon and do some living before our careers took over. Of the six of us, I was the only one who’d graduated. Topher, George, Holden, Asher, and Tommy had another year to find their balance and hopefully, enter the workforce feeling fulfilled and excited instead of afraid they’d wasted the better part of their twenties staring at computer screens.

The plan? Have fun, do fun things, meet fun people.

In a twist, it turned out that I was a complete disaster at having fun. And time was ticking. I’d spent every day this week making a fool of myself in one capacity or another. I went to a farmers market with Topher and got stung by a bee on Monday. I asked the cute barista at school if he wanted to go to the movies and got turned down on Tuesday. I went with Topher instead, spilled a Coke on both of us halfway through, and left early with sticky pants. Wednesday, I went to a bar and met the man of my dreams, kissed him, fell head over heels…and got dumped. I stayed out of trouble for a couple of days, then went to the beach on Saturday and burnt myself to a crisp. And it hurt.


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