Trying It Read Online Riley Hart, Devon McCormack (Metropolis #4)

Categories Genre: GLBT, M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: , Series: Metropolis Series by Riley Hart
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Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
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It’s so cool seeing Travis and Gary totally wrapped up in one another. Even though it’s this big public display, it’s almost like they can’t even see anyone but each other as they put on their little show on the stage, the dollar bills continually being thrown and taking up the space around them.

They’re really lucky to have found such a special relationship.

As they pull away from their kiss, they grin like they’re the luckiest guys on the planet.

Frankie leans down and says into my ear, “I don’t know about you, but this makes me want to get home real fast.”

I turn and see that hungry expression on his face…that one he makes that has a way of getting me going.

“We might have to just sneak away real quick,” I tell him. Then a realization hits me. “But oh, wait. Can I have some cake first?”

Frankie cracks up. “Ev, you can have all the cake you want. And then I’ll feed you some icing after.”

He hooks his arm around me, pulling me close to him.

26

Frankie

It doesn’t take me too long to fix Mom’s leaky bathroom sink. I hang around for a few minutes, waiting for her and Evan to come back inside. They went out to her small greenhouse in the backyard a while ago and must be keeping pretty busy out there.

With not much else to do, I head out to see what they’ve been up to for so long. The door opens quietly, and the moment I step inside, I hear Mom tell Evan, “The dead leaves like these, can just be pulled off as you’re watering.”

“I thought so. I just didn’t want to mess anything up,” Evan replies to her. His response makes my gut clench. I hate that he feels as if he has to be afraid to make a mistake, that the people in his life who should have cared for him made him so self-conscious.

“You won’t mess up, mijo. And if you do, there’s nothing that can’t be fixed. I mess up all the time.” She squeezes his shoulder and he offers her an appreciative smile.

“They’re beautiful,” Evan tells her. “It’s like you’re an artist, in a way. I don’t know if that makes sense but caring for them, taking care of the plants so they grow so strong. It’s a talent.”

“Thanks. I’ve always loved plants and flowers. Do you know how sometimes you just have a thing that you know is meant for you? That’s how I’ve always been with plants. I think it goes along with what you said…caring for something, nurturing it and watching it grow and thrive. It really is an incredible feeling.”

Evan kneels to water another plant. “Frankie’s just like you…I thought you might want to know. I mean, I’m sure you already know, but I wanted to say it. He takes care of people, nurtures them. I don’t know what I would do without him.”

His words make my heart slam against my chest, make my pulse thud in my ears, and a warmth spreads through my gut. He’s said things like that to me before. Of course he has, but for some reason, it’s different hearing him say them to my mom.

“Thank you. That’s nice of you to say. He is a good man, and I’m very lucky, but I have a feeling you must be just as good a man or he wouldn’t care about you as much as he clearly does. Most of us have more trouble seeing how good we are than we do seeing how good someone else is. Remember that.”

There’s something special about seeing Mom with Evan, about hearing them speak to each other and get to know one another. I know how much it means to both of them—Evan because he’s never had that kind of relationship with his own mom and her because she’s never met someone I care about the way I do Evan.

As much as this means to me, I also feel like a voyeur, so I clear my throat and ask, “What kind of trouble are the two of you getting into?”

“All the trouble,” Mom replies.

Evan stands, and I see something different in the way he looks at me. I don’t even think the moment is specifically about me, or us, but this—all of it in general. Standing in a greenhouse with a man who doesn’t treat him the way Peter did and a mother who might not be his, but she damn sure would love him as though he was.

A lump forms in my throat as I walk over and press a quick kiss to his lips. He freezes up for just a second as though it surprises him that I would kiss him in front of my mom, but in this moment, I don’t think I could stop myself.


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