Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 72591 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72591 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
“He is, Vance isn’t bad either. He's just being protective of Clark.”
“Well, I don’t need protecting,” Clark chimes in, his tone defiant as he and Vance re-enter the room. “Let’s move this ugly ass couch and bring the new one in.”
Clark and Vance walk into the living room and start moving stuff out of the way while Ava and I try to help without getting in the way.
“I can see why you want to get rid of this monstrosity. It looks like the 1970s threw up on this thing,” Vance grunts as he leans down to help Clark lift the couch.
“I’m not sure how the rest of the house looks so nice, but this couch is so fucking ugly. Maybe someone lost a bet, or they were high when they ordered it,” Clark says while carrying the couch out. Between the two of them, they easily carry it toward the door.
With a little finagling, they get the putrid green couch out the door, only dinging the doorframe once, while leaving behind some minor scratches. Ava and I hang out on the sidelines while they curse at each other as they bring the heavier, bulkier sectional in.
“Jesus fuck, lift, asshole,” Vance curses and I try not to stare at Clark as he lifts up the heavy piece of furniture, his biceps bulge at the weight, his perfectly sculpted chest puffing out as he grunts. Don’t stare, don’t stare. But my eyes don’t get the memo. It feels like I’m in a trance, unable to look away.
My eyes track a bead of sweat that streaks against his forehead, and down his body to a small patch of shirt that’s soaked with sweat right between his shoulder blades.
Warmth flutters through my gut as this completely ridiculous impulse to walk over and lick the sweat off his skin, just to see what it tastes like enters my mind.
Licking my lips, I realize how dry my mouth is. As if fate is mocking me, Clark looks over at me right then, catching my gaze on him.
Shit. I’ve been caught. He grins knowingly and I look away, feeling my cheeks heat with embarrassment. I bet my cheeks match my hair color right now.
“It’s okay to look,” Ava leans over and whispers, startling me. Clenching my fist, I dig my nails into the palms of my head. I totally forgot she was standing so close to me. “They are putting on quite the show, if I might say so.” Her eyes never waver from Vance’s body and I can see how much she cares for him, how much she wants him.
“Don’t worry babe, I’ll let you touch it later,” Vance calls over his shoulder, causing Ava to snort with laughter.
Once they finish moving the sectional in and putting it in the exact position they want, they both head for the kitchen where Ava and I are standing. Clark saunters up to me, his hand extended outwards. I take it eagerly, interlacing my fingers with his. He squeezes my hand gently and gives me a reassuring smile that makes the warmth spread through my abdomen.
As if Vance has been here a million times before, he struts to the fridge, pulling it open, and gets out four bottles of beer.
“Someone said we could have some drinks, so let's have a drink,” he says, handing each of us a bottle. Vance glances at me with apprehension and I wonder what Clark said to him. I take the bottle not wanting to seem rude, but really, I don’t have any intention of drinking it. I never drink.
Without letting go of me, we all walk to the living room and sit down on the new sectional. Ava sits down so close to Vance, she might as well sit on his lap, while Clark and I leave a few inches between us, resting our joint hands in that space.
“So how come you have separate bedrooms?” Vance asks. “Seems odd to not sleep in the same room as boyfriend and girlfriend.”
“That’s none of your business,” Ava snaps, elbowing Vance in the ribs. “So what classes are you going to take, Emerson? Do you know what you are majoring in yet?”
Endlessly thankful for Ava and her change of subject, I tell her what classes I signed up for this semester and that I haven't decided on a major yet but that I love biology. Ava tells me about campus and her favorite teacher and invites me to meet her for coffee sometime this week.
While Ava and I successfully manage to carry on friendly small talk, Clark and Vance have some kind of staring competition that leaves the room with a tightness that I can feel in my chest. It isn’t until they’ve both finished their beers that they seem to relax a bit, joining in on the conversation and even laughing at some of Ava’s jokes.