Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Uh-oh.
I’d been stiff-armed so often that I recognized all the signs. Crossed arms, crossed ankles, careful smile. Hey, at least he’d kissed me like he wanted to suck my tonsils out.
If I had to guess, I’d say Bryson was conflicted. On one hand, I knew he liked me…and my dick. But he gave off strong “stay in your lane” vibes I associated with super casual fuck-buddies. I could do that. I wasn’t interested in a relationship, which made me the definition of a complication-free zone.
I didn’t know how to assure him of that without having a weird conversation about intentions.
Yuck. That sounded…awkward.
“I should have known,” I snarked. “I was going to leave this on your doorstep as a hint, but I happened to be in the neighborhood and time is of the essence.”
“What’s up?”
I shook the bag from the hardware store and flashed a devilish grin. “I want to paint the living room, and I need an elf.”
“By elf you mean…”
“A helper. I bought an extra brush just for you. I can’t live with that yellow and feel good about myself, so will you check with the owner to make sure it’s cool? But even if it’s not, I’m still doing it.”
Bryson furrowed his brow. “Uh…I don’t know how to paint.”
“I’ll teach you.” I stepped between his open thighs and flattened my palm over his cock as I bent to nip his bottom lip. “Wear something comfy. Pizza’s on me.”
11
BRYSON
Icouldn’t decide if I should be more alarmed that Smitty was staying or that he wanted me to help paint.
Okay, Smitty staying in Elmwood was a bigger concern, but painting was a close second.
I wasn’t a DIY guy…at all. I was the guy who hired professionals. For everything. I probably should have begged off and said I was busy, but hanging out with Smitty after work had become my favorite part of the day. Dinner, foosball, hand jobs…sign me up. For a short time.
But now he was staying in Elmwood.
And he wanted to paint.
Yeah, this could be a disaster.
I took Smitty’s wardrobe advice to heart and showed up in a pair of holey jeans and a faded Penguins tee that had seen better days, then handed over the bottle of Pinot I’d brought to go with the pizza he ordered.
We ate first, sitting side by side at the mini peninsula while Smitty chatted amicably about his decision to stay. He loved the kids, the town, he had a sense of purpose here, and he knew he was needed. No one needed him in Toronto…or anywhere.
I didn’t know what to say to that so I nodded, smiled, and inwardly sorted through the ways our liaison could blow up in my face.
Okay, that was dramatic. I was pretty sure no one in Elmwood had seen us interacting as anything other than neighbors or in a friendly-agent-slash-client-capacity. Right this very second, someone could knock on the door and we’d just look like new buddies sharing a pizza.
Nothing about “us” was suspicious.
We didn’t kiss in public or go anywhere together. That made sense because we weren’t dating, we were just…secret sex buddies. And that was the problem. I knew better than anyone that nothing stayed secret forever, and I had more to lose now than I had twenty plus years ago.
So far, I’d done a damn good job of keeping Smitty at arm’s length, but I couldn’t do that indefinitely. If I were smart, I’d cut ties completely before I did something stupid…like fall for him.
“Nothing has to change,” Smitty said as if reading my mind. He chomped a big bite and continued around a mouthful of pizza. “We can still do…whatever we want to do.”
“I’m not so sure about that. This is a small town, and people talk.” I swirled the burgundy liquid in my glass thoughtfully. “You’re a seemingly straight new hockey coach with a reputation for being a tough guy on the ice. Engaging in a casual fling with your gay neighbor is probably not such a great way to launch yourself into the community.”
“Oh. So you think I should come out.” He rubbed at his scruffy jaw, his elbow resting on the counter.
“No, that’s something you do when you’re ready, for yourself. Not a minute sooner.”
“If I’m honest, I think I need a little more time to come out. I need to think it through and talk to my friends and…that’s a big-ticket item. I’ll do it, but I might need a few months.”
“Like I said, do it on your time.”
“But if secrecy is a problem for you, how do I make it better?”
My smile reached my eyes this time. “You don’t have to worry about me, Smitty. But thank you.”
“No, no. You’re not getting off the hook that easy. Look, I’ve been playing this cool and casual, but the truth is…I like you. I like being with you. And you know what?” He leaned forward and slid his hand between my legs. “I really want to fuck you again. I want inside your sweet ass. I think you want me too.”