Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 129881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 649(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 649(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
“Felix,” Dean warns.
“And let’s also say this sponsor has been waiting forever to meet someone who just gets him, you know? Someone who makes him feel good about himself. Someone he’s really comfortable with. And they become friends so quickly and they laugh and they just, well, they have the best time together and it’s perfect. It’s so perfect, Dean. But they’re also really dedicated to staying sober.”
“Are you sure this is hypothetical?”
“Yes. Completely.” I turn in my chair to face him, knee bent against the metal arm. “Wouldn’t it be okay if they dated? Because they could support each other. They know what the other person is dealing with, they know it better than most, so they would be the best partners through life and sobriety. You know? Don’t you think?”
He’s shaking his head before I finish speaking.
“And they also have amazing chemistry!” This has to be said. “I mean, the sex they would have would be unfuckingreal. Everyone can tell. They kissed and it was like seeing God.”
Dean narrows his eyes. “Seeing God. Really.”
“Yes.”
“I thought you said this was hypothetical.”
“It is! I meant a hypothetical god. You know I’m not religious.”
“So, you didn’t kiss Jake.”
“Oh. No, I totally did.”
“Felix.”
“Fine. I confess.” I push my curls back. “That story… it’s about me and Jake.”
“Really? No shit.” Dean tips his head back and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Why do I always get a headache when we’re together?”
“I don’t know. It’s probably unrelated.”
“I think you already know what I’m going to say.”
My brows tick up. “That we should totally pursue a relationship and you’ll be my best man at the wedding?”
He stares at me. “Be serious.”
“I am. You know I’d ask you to be my best man. And Carsen would be the ring bearer.” I sip my coffee, picturing it. “He’d also be best friends with Charlie and Cassie. I mean, they all have names that start with a C. This fairy tale practically writes itself.”
“Charlie and Cassie?”
“My kids. Via surrogate, of course.”
“Okay. You need to stop talking and just—let me think for a minute. Jesus Christ.”
Dean sits back in his chair, looking out into the open yard.
I mimic his position, but instead of spreading my legs out, I sit cross-legged. It’s comfortable for me. I sip my coffee and watch the clouds move across the sky.
“You have such a nice view,” I say, giving him only thirty seconds of silence. Maybe not even that much.
But he really does.
His house backs up to farmland, acres of crops and open fields, with no neighbors for miles.
“Don’t you have the same view?” he asks.
“It’s not as nice though.” I lick coffee off my lips. “You have a family to share it with.”
“Felix.” His voice is strained.
“See how wonderful it would be if I had a lover to watch the sunrise with?”
“Don’t play to my affection for you.”
“But I’m so good at it.”
Dean sits forward then and sets his empty mug on the stone next to his chair before resting his elbows on his knees. He looks over at me.
If I didn’t know him as well as I do, I’d squirm being under his intense scrutiny.
Dean is absolutely intimidating.
He’s tall. Muscular. He’s got this badass goatee. That tattoo on his neck is creepy as shit, but also hot. Mainly hot.
But I don’t squirm because he’s my friend.
“Before you say anything, can I just add one thing?” I ask.
“Sure.”
“I want you to think about Maria.”
His eyes soften, and the bastard can’t help but smile. “I always am.”
“Swoon. Fuck me, you’re sexy.”
“Get to the point, Felix.”
“Right. I want you to think about what I’m asking for while keeping in mind the idea of Maria being an addict. Would you still be with her? If you were both in recovery?”
He thinks for a moment. “I would want to be.”
“Okay. But would you?”
Dean chews on his lip.
“You would.” I smile. “You would, right? So, it’s not this set-in-stone rule. Jake and I could be together.”
“I’ve known addicts who have been romantically involved, so, yeah, if that’s what you’re asking me—you two could be together.”
My heart fucking sings. “I am so glad I came over here. And not just because I’m about to eat ice cream.”
“You know I’m about to hit you with a big fucking but, right?”
“Please don’t.” I wince. “This was going so well…”
“I think it works when everyone has years into their sobriety,” he continues, like a dick. (I don’t really mean that. He’s wonderful.) “Years, Felix. And even then, do you know how easy it is for both of you to fuck up? You’re not much into your first year and Jake is newly sober. And relationships can get really fucking complicated. Addicts don’t do well when shit gets complicated. You and Jake—I’m sorry. I know you want me to give you permission for this, or at least my blessing, but it’s not a good idea.”