Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 111086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 555(@200wpm)___ 444(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 555(@200wpm)___ 444(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
So to have given so much to Gage in so little time didn’t make sense. Had things changed and suddenly I was okay with the prospect of one-night stands and meaningless hookups? If that was the case, what did that say about me? And what would Pierce think of me? Or was I actually thinking Gage might have feelings for me and I for him?
“Fuck,” I muttered to myself as I began ripping at the weeds that were strangling the otherwise vibrant vegetable garden.
Who the hell was I kidding? I was nothing more than an old, sexually repressed, still-way-too-fucking-deep-in-the-closet gay man who was reading too much into a kiss that had probably been given partly out of curiosity and partly out of pity.
“Mr. President?”
I looked up to see Nash standing over me, the now empty basket in his hand.
“Charlie wanted me to tell you that she’d be back out soon. She and her grandfather are checking the internet for more zucchini recipes.”
I would have smiled if I wasn’t in such a shitty mood. Last night was a big reason for that mood, but the man standing above me wasn’t helping in the least. Despite sharing a house together, we barely spoke and I’d gotten tired of trying to draw him into any kind of conversation. I was starting to wonder if I’d imagined everything he’d done for me in the two weeks I’d been struggling through Reese’s hospitalization.
“Thanks,” I said as I took the basket and returned to my work.
“Is there anything you need, Mr. President?”
Yeah, I need you to stop calling me that. I need you to be the guy who made me believe everything was going to be okay. I need someone to fucking talk to about the shit last night.
“No,” I said, doing my best to ignore him.
“If there’s something bothering you—”
“Then what?” I interrupted as I looked up at Nash. “You’ll do what, exactly, Nash?” I asked, unable to hide the anger in my voice. I tried to calm myself so I could just tell him I was fine and he’d leave, but between the events of the night before and the fact that Reese was arriving within a matter of days, I was too far gone. I lurched to my feet. “You’ll kick their ass? Or you’ll listen while I spill my guts to you? Because to do that, you actually have to be able to withstand my presence for more than the ten fucking seconds it takes for you to bark your orders at me each morning to remember to keep you in sight at all times.”
I got in his face. “Don’t pretend you can’t wait until this job is over, Nash. Okay? At least give me that.” I tossed the gardening shovel I was holding to the ground and shoved past him. My goal was to escape his presence for just a few minutes, but of course, he followed me. And no sooner had I reached the front of the house than Gage’s truck pulled into the driveway.
“Everett?” he called as he climbed out, but I ignored him. As badly as I wanted to know how his visit with Reese went, I needed to pull myself together more. It wasn’t until I entered the house that Nash finally stopped following me. I hurried to my room and shut the door behind me, then sat down on the edge of the bed. I felt cold, so I wrapped my arms around myself. But the self-soothing gesture did nothing to ease the agony that washed over me.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured to Pierce.
I had a lot of reasons to apologize to my dead lover, but none were stronger than the reality that crashed down on me right then. Because instead of having that quiet moment with the man who’d been my entire world, I was craving something else. I wanted something more than just the memory of strong arms wrapping around me and promising everything would be okay. I wanted the actual arms, the actual words.
And if that wasn’t fucked up enough, it was the realization that for whatever reason, one pair of arms just wouldn’t be enough.
It needed to be two.
God, what a mess.
Chapter 11
Nash
“Nash, wait up.”
I didn’t wait.
I couldn’t.
Because if I didn’t keep moving, I’d follow Everett right into his damn room and demand he tell me what was bothering him.
Not to mention that Gage Fortier was the last guy I wanted to be around at the moment.
Not after last night.
Not after listening to Everett beg him for his touch, his kiss and then listening to the heavy breathing and muffled moans that had come right after.
If that hadn’t been bad enough, I’d taken it a step further and stuck my head around that corner so I could watch the two men going at each other and wished they’d see me, so that maybe they’d let me be a part of them discovering one another for the first time.