Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 140629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 703(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 469(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 703(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 469(@300wpm)
Was this what life was like for Gunner Russo? Undeserved respect? He might have to deal with debt, with the gang shit, and share his trailer with an extended family of roaches for as long as this crazy dream lasted, but people at last paid attention to him. Caspian was used to being invisible, to people’s eyes sliding past him as if he didn’t matter, but now he could feel the weight of his bulk in every step he took, and he would enjoy it.
Starting now.
Once the light changed to green again, he drove straight into the swath of gray emptiness that made up the town centre. Dotted with warehouses, old shops, and bungalows, it was a landscape of long-lost prosperity. But when Gunner drove past the small church, which stood out with its elegant white facade, and the school, the red brick of the county library called out to him. It used to be his favorite place in this town, and had become more so since a modern café opened within its walls. Mom had told him the locals initially predicted its failure, but turned out even a town as insignificant and drab as Grit, Ohio, needed a place for casual dates and meetups with friends that were a bit classier than sitting around on the bleachers.
His skin itched in anticipation, even though he didn’t yet know whether the pretty boy he had in mind was working this afternoon. He slammed the door shut and was about to march straight at the door to present his new improved self, but stepped back to check himself out in the rearview mirror. Gunner kept his hair in a crew cut so short Caspian didn’t have to worry about any of it being out of place, but he did make sure his ears were clean, and that the front of his shirt wasn’t stained.
The eyes looking back at him had the color of milky hot chocolate, and they shimmered when he smiled, making the expression as charming as he’d always wanted to appear. Even the face tattoo couldn’t spoil the perfection of Gunner’s masculine features, so Caspian smoothed out his clothes once more and entered the café.
It was modern yet not pretentious, spacious but cozy, with pale wooden chairs and green plants on shelves, tables, and in strategic spots on the floor.
Whenever he visited his parents, he loved to come here and sit by the window with a flat white and watch people or read. The chatter of other customers created the right amount of white noise to calm him, and the staff was both proficient, polite, and eye candy.
But as he stepped through the door, something was noticeably different in the atmosphere that greeted him inside. The pretty barista stood behind the counter, but something was off about the smile he greeted Caspian with. Since everyone was allowed to have a bad day, Caspian ignored the way the barista whispered something to his co-worker and captured the blue gaze from afar.
He could sense many pairs of eyes sliding across his tall, muscular form, but he hadn’t come for the patrons. He was here for the boy with the septum ring and silvery hair.
“Didn’t know Grit had places like this,” rolled off his tongue effortlessly as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. He used to hate the low, rumbly tone of Gunner’s voice when the guy had intimidated him with it, but now that it wasn’t being used against him, he recognized it as capable of charming pants off pert boy asses.
The barista, whose name tag read Adam wouldn’t stop smiling but his gaze drifted off to the ordering screen in a way it never had when Caspian came over in his own, insignificant body. Was he shy? Caspian could work with that. In fact, he wouldn’t mind doing all the heavy lifting. He’d love to be the man who asked out, the man who made the first move, and the man who pounded his partner into the mattress.
Though he was getting ahead of himself.
“Yeah, it’s been here a few years. What can I get you?”
Caspian toyed with having his usual order, but instead grinned, hoping to engage the barista. “What’s your favorite?” he dared to ask in a flirtatious way. Short and small, Caspian had always been too self-conscious to flirt with the guys he liked and settled on whoever seemed least choosy, but he was no longer the shy man no one wanted. Today, he walked the world as a muscular hunk that wouldn’t be crossed or overlooked.
The question made Adam look up, and a deep flush colored the boy’s cheeks when their eyes met. How amazing was it that his sheer presence could do that?
“I… um, the mocha is the best in town. Would you like to try one?”