Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 111089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 555(@200wpm)___ 444(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 555(@200wpm)___ 444(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
The only consolation was knowing I was managing to keep my little secret. God knew, if Ben or Taryn detected my crush, they’d give me hell, especially knowing he was the reason I was busy on Saturdays now. Fuck, I was even taking on an extra delivery shift during the week to keep it that way.
I also found myself working harder on the assignments for our readings and making more thoughtful comments whenever he called on me, same as he would any of the other students in class. The best part of school had always been seeing Taryn and Ben, but now I was excited about seeing him too. I’d wake up practically bounding out of bed, which was a fucking first.
But with the excitement came the pain of never getting to have him, wanting to get him alone and chat with him like we did on those precious Saturdays, which were never enough time, especially when our conversations rarely went beyond books, movies, or TV shows.
Adding to that, it seemed I was shit at hiding it around the house. Tex seemed to take note of that one night when he remarked, “Someone’s excited about another Saturday at H4H.”
It was a strange thing for him to say just then, considering we were watching Top Chef, and I couldn’t make sense of what about my getting up to fix a Hot Pocket could have made him think about that.
“I didn’t say I was going to H4H tomorrow,” I said too defensively, since I already knew there was no way I would miss it.
I’d started watching Supernatural on Netflix, based on James’s recommendation. He was a big fan of paranormal series, and feeling it would give us more to chat about, I binged season one during the week, eager to discuss it with him when I saw him again.
“But you are going,” Tex said as I opened the freezer and retrieved a packet from an open box of pepperoni-and-cheese Hot Pockets.
“You sound so certain about something that I could just as easily decide I won’t do because you’re being a dick about it.”
“I doubt that’s gonna happen. What’ll she do if you don’t show up?”
“How do you know it’s a she?” I asked, grabbing a plate from the cabinet.
“I didn’t. I said she to get a reaction and decide for myself. So who’s the guy?” He practically sang the question, like it was some kind of victory for having gotten that much out of me. As I opened my mouth to give him a piece of my mind, Tex said, “I’m joking, kid. You can have all the secret high school lovers you want.”
If only you knew…
I took my plate to the edge of the dividing wall between the kitchen and the living room so I could see him. “I feel like responding to that comment will give away more than I want to.”
“It will. Even that gives away too much, though, so Uncey Tex’ll take it.”
“Ass,” I muttered, both of us smiling at the exchange before I returned to fixing my snack.
Fortunately, the only thing Tex had picked up on was that I was feeling something, not who I was feeling it for. Aside from Taryn or Ben, he was pretty much the only one I had to worry about figuring me out. Most people couldn’t read me, something I was relieved about on the build the following day, when James and I had to split up because we were short a few of our usuals. DJ was teamed with me, though, so we had a good enough time, even as I found myself listening for the sound of James’s voice on the roof. I couldn’t tell if I was catching it as much as I thought…or just wanting to hear it badly enough to imagine it. As the day wore on, I began fearing we might not have any time together and I’d have to wait another week for a chance to have even the most innocent of conversations with him.
It was stupid how relieved I finally was to share some time with him during the lunch break, when a bunch of the volunteers we usually hung with sat in a circle. There were seven of us in the group, men and women of varying ages from teens to sixties. Bentley—a fifty-five-year-old vet turned contractor with a penchant for tall tales—relayed a story about an epic blunder during one of his contractor gigs at a local elementary school.
Using a plastic fork, James dipped a chicken nugget in the sweet-and-sour sauce at the bottom of the small box they came in before taking a bite. It’d been just over a month—this was the fifth day of working together like this—but I felt like I was already getting to know some of his little quirks.