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)
“You have a lot of flowers.”
“My mom liked flowers.”
I stare at the KISS HERE tattoo for the longest second and wet my dry lips. Then I lower my gaze to the waistband of his sweats and the ink peeking out from underneath.
I can’t tell what he’s hiding. I almost ask him to lower them and let me see.
But then Felix reaches into his pants and adjusts his dick, and laughs this raspy laugh, saying, “Fuck. You might as well be touching me.” And now I know he’s growing stiff.
Asking him to show me the tattoos dangerously close to his junk is the last thing I need to be doing.
“Are you hungry?” he asks.
For food? Hardly. But I tell him I am.
Felix pours us both some OJ, and we sit down across from each other.
“I can barely see you,” I say, leaning around the tower of pancakes.
He nearly spits out his juice and wipes a drip off his chin with the back of his hand.
“I always make way too much food,” he says, “I mean, I do eat a lot. And leftovers are nice. But if I ever get a family again someday, I’ll be ready, so maybe it’s not a bad thing that I do this.”
A sharp pain pulses inside my chest.
Fuck, that makes me sort of sad.
Felix lives in this big house by himself and probably has for a while, considering how absent his dad seems to be, and he cooks huge meals for one person when it’s clear he wishes he wasn’t alone.
“You’re scowling,” he says, shoveling eggs into his mouth. “Uh oh.”
I quickly relax my face, and Felix laughs at me.
“Aw. Even when you’re trying hard not to scowl, you still scowl, Jake.”
“Shut up,” I say, forking three pancakes and sliding them onto my plate. “I was going to give you a compliment but forget it.”
“Tell me.”
“No.”
“Please?”
I watch him stick out his bottom lip, and sigh. Shit. That’s cute.
“This all looks really good,” I tell him. “Smells good too.”
He sits up straight, and his smile reaches his eyes.
I pour syrup on my stack, cut into it, and find out Felix’s food doesn’t just look good. It tastes really fucking good too.
I scoop a serving of eggs onto my plate and grab some bacon, smirking when Felix licks the icing off his cinnamon bun before taking a bite. I’m not surprised that’s how he eats it.
“So, Jake,” he says seriously.
“So, Felix.” I suck syrup off my lip.
“We banging today or what?”
I flip him off and he cracks up, head tipping back.
“Ah god. I didn’t think I could say that with a straight face.” He looks annoyingly proud of himself.
“I should say ‘yeah, Felix, we are,’ just to see what you’d do.”
“Uh. No, you shouldn’t. We’d get started right now if you said that.” He snaps into a piece of bacon.
“You know we can’t.”
“Yeah, but we would.”
We lock eyes, both of us breaking away and looking down at the same time and fuck, we’re so screwed. We’re a time bomb, ticking. At least one of us should have some fucking sense, but I’m jacking off in Felix’s house and moaning his name, begging him to hear me, and he’s admitting to having zero willpower if given the opportunity to hook up, and we’re supposed to keep our hands off each other for years?
This “rule” isn’t just fucking stupid. It’s unreasonable.
I shovel eggs into my mouth, and I glance up and watch Felix fold a pancake in half and stuff his face.
He’s breathing heavily out of his nose and staring hard at the table, and I wonder if he’s predicting how much longer we’ll hold off before the inevitable happens.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Minutes later, he clears his throat. “Um. We are hanging out though, right? You said we could.”
I look up at him again. “Yeah. Sure.”
“Okay.”
“What did you want to do?”
“I usually go see my mom on Sundays. Can we do that first?”
I’m not expecting him to suggest that, and it takes me too long to answer him.
“We don’t have to,” he quickly says.
“No. We can.”
“It’s fine. I can skip this week. We’ll just hang out here.”
“Felix. We’re going to see your mom. It’s Sunday. That’s what we’re doing.”
He gulps down his juice. “Okay. Thank you so much.”
The fork I’m lifting to my mouth freezes an inch away from my face, and I have to force myself to remain in this chair and to keep eating and to not act on my fucking feelings, because I just realized how much I like Felix’s varying moods.
When he’s being a smartass and playful, making me laugh over texts or donuts in a diner.
When he becomes keenly confident and larger than life and fucking owns his sexuality.
He’d turn me curious even if I wasn’t into guys.
When he’s cute and pouts, and when he flirts so easily, like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.