Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
At least he was mostly covered this morning, I mused, noting his black boxers and oversized Loyola Marymount tee.
“I have to get to work by butt-fuck o’clock. One of the partners at my firm needs me to scour copyright law bullshit for a client. Fuck me. Why did I think being a lawyer could be fun?” he groused, taking a healthy gulp of coffee. “What about you?”
“I’m always up early.”
“Yeah, but you aren’t usually showered, shaved, and all fancy this early.”
“Actually, I am.”
“Oh, well, you smell different or something. Like—” Ezra sniffed the air like a happy Labrador. “Dude, you’re wearing cologne. I know what that means.”
I sipped my coffee. “It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Nice try. You got a date, huh?”
“Maybe,” I hedged.
He hooted loud enough to wake the whole house, then held his hand out for a high five. I fixed him with a blank stare and continued scrolling through emails.
He made a production of raking the hand I’d ignored through his hair, which was kind of funny—and it was why it was hard to stay annoyed with Ezra for long. His disarming charm always won me over.
“Same guy or someone new? Or…is it a girl? Do you date women?”
“I do not.”
“Too bad. I could give you chick tips, but I don’t know anything about dudes. Not dating them anyway. Or you know…sex things.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Thanks, Ezra…I know sex things.”
He snickered. “Of course you do. You’re a sneaky motherfucker.”
“Excuse me?”
“And you don’t seem nervous at all,” he continued in a rush. “Me? I’d be nervous as hell. I hate dating. It’s the worst. I had a great conversation with a rando girl in the produce section a few months ago. We were discussing how to tell when a melon is ripe with straight faces and lemme tell you, it was hysterical. I thought, ‘Damn, this girl might be the one.’ So, I asked her out.”
“How did it go?”
“As you science guys say, there was no chemistry whatsoever. Zippity-do-da. Zilch. Nada. I couldn’t believe she was the same person. But then I was like, ‘Maybe it’s me.’ It had to be me. Maybe I’ve become a bad date in my old age.”
“You’re not even thirty, Ezra. And while I want to be sympathetic, you’re making me nervous. I don’t want to be a bad date either.”
Ezra scoffed. “Not possible. That’s the cool thing about you and Holden. You know who you are, and you don’t apologize for what you’re into. If this guy agreed to a second date, he digs you for real.”
“Technically, I think this is a first date,” I corrected. “But thanks. I needed that.”
“No prob. If I can’t help myself, I should help others, right?” He narrowed his eyes as he lifted his cup. “By the way, do not tell Holden I gave him a compliment. It’ll go to his already fuckin’ big head, and I’ll never hear the end of it.”
I chuckled. “I won’t.”
“So…what’d you say this guy’s name was?”
I eyed him over the rim of my mug. “I didn’t.”
“Really. I was sure you did. Orville or Chester or Benedict? Do those ring a bell?”
“They do not.”
“So…what’s his name?” he repeated.
“Noah.”
Ezra slapped his hand on the table and stood, seemingly unconcerned when his boxer briefs dipped to reveal his prominent V-line. “Was that so hard?”
“You’ll make a very fine litigator someday, Ezra.”
“You know it, Tommy boy. Good luck tonight.”
“Thanks.”
He waggled his brows, scratching his stomach like a gorilla…or a jock in a locker room, before sauntering to the fridge.
I felt better for half a second…until my brain conjured Noah in a locker room with a towel hanging low around his slim waist, water beading on his chest as he discussed “the game” with someone like Ezra. Big, brawny, and formidable. I could picture Noah in uniform, running across a field and chasing a ball, his muscular thighs flexing, sweat dripping from his brow.
My imagination was impressive ’cause Noah didn’t look sporty at all. Knowing there was another facet to him intrigued me. It added an unchartered dimension I was eager to explore. I wanted to see him in uniform, see him in action. Then again, I didn’t want to give him the opening to introduce me to Jeff or Rick.
Theoretically, Noah would have dealt with guys like Ezra often…maybe exclusively for years. I sneaked a sideways glance at my uber-masculine roommate, studying the contents of the fridge as though he’d be quizzed later.
Ezra was a good guy, but he was a bull in a china shop. He spoke too loudly, gave opinions freely, farted on command, and didn’t think twice about inserting himself into conversations that had nothing to do with him. It was all part of his odd brand of charm. Noah had probably grown up with friends like Ezra. Friends he didn’t talk about anymore.