Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 148704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 744(@200wpm)___ 595(@250wpm)___ 496(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 744(@200wpm)___ 595(@250wpm)___ 496(@300wpm)
I have to give it to Jess. He accepts Crew’s hand with a smile, but it can’t be easy, when you have the body of a bookkeeper, and the man across from you is built like a beast. A bronzed, brilliantly inked, broad-chested one.
To be fair, Jess isn’t lacking in physique. He’s not too skinny and average in height, but Crew is just… a lot. He’s deep cuts and curves. The kind of brawn you can’t get in a gym, but that solid, working-man muscle. The kind you get from rock climbing and stocking shelves. The kind that comes from manual labor… and a few too many fights.
“Don’t worry about it, man.” Jess nods with a grin. “You were… busy.”
Busy at the bar the first time, sure. Busy going caveman when he told Jess to get lost only hours ago, absolutely.
“I’m busy now. With my girl.”
My head snaps toward Crew.
He heads my way, slips in close, and my cheeks heat when his lips press to my ear. “Pants. Now. Argue, and I’ll toss you over my shoulder right here.”
He stays standing where he is, right in front of me, and it takes me a moment to move.
“Uh.” My face reddens more as I peek around him, spotting the slight frown on Jess’s face before he wipes it away. “I’m going to…” He doesn’t need to know what I’m going to do. “I’ll be right back. Want to grab some drinks from the fridge?”
Jess nods, a half smile on his lips. “Yeah, sure—”
“I’ll get the drinks,” Crew cuts me off.
“You don’t want to put a shirt on?”
Crew scowls in response.
Okay then.
Pressing my lips into a tight line, I dash into my room, pulling a pair of sweats over my shorts rather than taking the time to change them.
It’s still not fast enough, though. Crew is already speaking again when I hit the hall.
“When did you and her make plans for tonight?” he asks Jess.
“I can’t remember exactly, but I work tomorrow night, so we planned for today. She texts me every morning,” he tells him.
Do I?
Jess continues, “We make plans then or I’ll stop by when I see her car. We usually hang out a lot, but we’ve been occupied lately.”
“Doing what?” Crew grills.
“You know, job searching, résumé building. I’m trying to figure out if I want to stay around here.” Jess looks to me as I step up, and a sly smile forms along his lips. “Or if it would be stupid of me to leave.”
Oh shit.
Oh no.
Okay, breathe.
Why do I feel the need to rationalize every word he’s spoken since walking in?
I mean, we would go through spurts of hanging out, and yeah, I think we did talk most days before, well, before Crew. Okay, maybe we did talk more often than not, but it wasn’t—
Wasn’t what? A big deal?
It was convenience, really, or maybe more coincidence, being we were on the same campus every day, lived next door to each other, and had relatively the same schedule for two years. So yeah, our paths crossed all the time, but why is he making it sound so… intimate?
Personal?
A prickle of awareness washes over me, and I meet Crew’s gaze. There’s accusation within them, a harrowing glint conveying the words he spoke to me weeks ago.
Men cannot be friends with you, Davis.
But Jess is my friend, isn’t he?
Trying to figure out if I should stay around here or if it would be stupid of me to leave…
A harsh weight knocks against my chest then, and it’s as if a bright light opened up above me, an astonished, revelatory sound echoing in the distance.
I can practically hear Crew’s thoughts saying, now you get it, now you know, now you see.
The dinger goes off on the air fryer, and I fly toward it, needing something to do, but as I’m pulling the tray out, Jess begins speaking again.
“You know, now that I think about it, it’s sort of odd this guy’s your new roommate.” Jess speaks as if Crew isn’t here, metaphorically stabbing him right in his insecurities. “Him being a bartender and you not wanting liquor in the house. Seems like a big sacrifice to simply share in the rent.”
My eyes snap to Crew, who grins at the countertop, but I know better than to be fooled by the curve of his lips.
I know him, and there’s no doubt in my mind, he’s thinking about what Jess has said. How he’s “just a bartender,” nothing more than a man with a rag behind a slab of sticky wood. How he’s cut from the low-class cloth and can’t afford much more than the necessities life throws at him.
I don’t know exactly what kind of debt he’s in, but I know he’s working hard to erase it. That’s what a good man: a responsible, admirable man does. He works hard to be the best he can be. I know he thinks of himself as Jess hinted too, and I can’t say the outside world doesn’t see him much differently, but they’re wrong.