Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
“Have you ever tried it?” I ask him.
“Not me, but Z is a bit of a pro.”
Z nods. “Yeah. I actually run a few moshes, but we also have a couple of pup events at the club every third Saturday that time with our big leather nights. Those are a little less intimidating. We call it PupStravaganza. It’s designed to promote pup visibility in the community. Pups and their handlers or trainers come in and hang around the bar, just mingling with the guys on our leather night. You should totally swing by sometime. The guys are really nice and always happy to chat with people about it some more. We have a Facebook group, if you’re interested.”
I laugh uncomfortably.
It’s weird that Z and Derek are totally acting like this is a normal thing…or at least, not as laughable as the way Peter acted about it.
“You want to try on the puppy mask?” Z asks.
“Oh, no, no. That’s too much for me.”
But I can’t deny there’s a part of me that really wants to.
Derek must sense my uneasiness, because he slings his arm around me. “Baby steps, Z. I think adding some more leather to Evan’s wardrobe is a big first step.”
I can’t help but think about what Frankie was telling me earlier in the week…about getting back out there.
I just don’t want you to hold yourself back in any way because of that prick or because you don’t trust yourself.
I’ve learned from therapy and my own life that I’m happiest when I push myself into doing things that have made me uncomfortable at first—like with the coffeehouse.
Maybe it could be fun to try something like this.
We head out of Otterly, my curiosity piqued.
4
Frankie
Jackson laughs from his chair at the station, face in his phone. It’s been a pretty slow night, which is obviously a good thing. Less people needing medical attention and all.
I grab a grape from my bowl and throw it at him. Somehow, he reads my move and the fuck opens his mouth and catches the damn thing.
“You’re pretty good with that mouth of yours, Papa Bear.”
He cocks a brow at me and grins, not even giving me shit about the nickname. He started out as Grumpy Bear, but since he went and fell in love with Derek, it doesn’t fit anymore. The change in Jackson is like night and day. It’s incredible to see him out there living for himself and enjoying his life in ways he hadn’t allowed himself before. And well, being Derek’s daddy and all, I sort of had to find a way to play off that for a new nickname.
“Yeah, that’s what Derek tells me every night,” he replies, and I roll my eyes at him. Like I didn’t see that one coming.
Sliding my feet onto the coffee table, I lean back on the couch. The TV is playing in front of us, but neither of us is giving it any attention. “What are you all smiley about?” I ask before popping a grape into my mouth, even though I basically know what it is. In some way or another, it has to do with Derek. No one makes him smile the way his boy does.
“Apparently, Derek took Evan to the leather shop today.”
That gets my attention. “Your boyfriend is going to corrupt my friend,” I tease. The thought of Evan in a leather store is…surprising. I imagine him blushing, those big hazel eyes of his taking in all the toys, likely in shock. He’s so damn innocent but also curious too. Both of those qualities are two of my favorite things about him. I can see him being a bit scandalized but intrigued just being in the shop at all, and then you toss Derek into the mix… “Tell him not to give Evan too hard a time.”
Evan loves Derek and feels comfortable around him, but I know it took him a while to get used to Jackson’s Bottom Boy—if only because Evan hadn’t ever really allowed himself to get close to many people and Derek can be a lot to take in.
“Aww. Is someone being protective of his boy?” Jackson says, but I don’t bother with a reply. He knows Evan and I are just friends.
“You hook up with him yet?”
I frown at Jackson’s question.
“Aww, come on. Have a little fun, Frankie,” he teases, and I get what he’s doing. As if he can see the recognition on my face he says, “See? Not so fun, is it?” So maybe I was a bit obnoxious after his divorce from his ex-wife, Steph. I might or might not have been persistent in Jackson getting out there and living it up while grilling him every damn day about it. So sue me.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, man.”
“Uh huh. I bet you don’t. Speaking of…got any ass lately? Want me to take you out?”