Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 118592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 593(@200wpm)___ 474(@250wpm)___ 395(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 593(@200wpm)___ 474(@250wpm)___ 395(@300wpm)
The second time we’d met at the Pacific Hotel, I’d gotten up at one point in the middle of the night to see if he’d ditched me, only to find him sitting in the living room, his eyes glued to his phone. I hadn’t heard any noise coming from the phone, but he’d been staring at it like nothing else had existed. As I’d gotten closer to him, he’d finally become aware of my presence and he’d shut the phone down. But not before I’d seen that he’d been watching a video. And while he’d reacted quickly enough to keep me from seeing what he’d been looking at, it had taken him longer to wipe the anguish from his eyes. I’d ended up straddling his lap and kissing him just to try to take away some of the pain I could feel rolling off him and then I’d asked him to come back to bed. He had, but we hadn’t slept. No, he’d made love to me. Not fucking…making love. There was just no other way to explain what we’d shared in that moment.
In all the other times we’d been together, it had always felt like Memphis had given before he’d taken. And while he’d clearly wanted me each time, I hadn’t ever been sure he’d needed me. That night I was sure. Because the entire time he’d been pleasuring me, it had felt like it was something he’d needed more than anything else in that moment. I’d gotten to watch the pain drift away to be replaced with something else…something that was more than him getting us both off.
It had only been ten days since we’d agreed to pursue a relationship that I still couldn’t quite put a label on. It wasn’t purely sex because he did little things for me that a hook-up wouldn’t have done. He brought me coffee in bed one morning and it had been prepared exactly like I liked it. Another time he’d ordered room service and we’d sat naked in bed eating while he’d asked me all sorts of questions about my work at my uncle’s car shop and my reasons for going to graduate school to get my MBA. He’d steered clear of most of the same topics he didn’t liked to be questioned about, but I’d still been thrilled that he’d shown any interest at all in learning more about me. But the sweetest things and the most unexpected were the extra little touches he bestowed on me. Like while we’d been eating, he’d used his thumb to wipe away some marinara sauce from the corner of my mouth. After we had sex, he always held me close to his chest and played with my hair until I fell asleep. When it was time for me to wake up in the morning, he’d place soft kisses all over my face until I opened my eyes and then he’d tell me good morning and kiss me on the mouth.
In ten days, he’d driven up to Seattle six times. Six nights of incredible sex, six mornings where I’d had to say goodbye and wonder if it would be the last time I’d see him. Ten days, six nights and endless hours thinking about him and wondering how I’d managed to start losing my heart to someone I barely knew.
It was also ten days of lying to the other man who still held a piece of me despite the burgeoning feelings I had for Memphis.
The morning after my first night with Memphis, I’d gone directly to work and texted Tristan that I’d spent the night at work and that I’d see him later that day when I got home. That had been my first lie.
That night, Tristan had asked me if I’d gotten things squared away with the customer and I’d had no idea what he was talking about until he’d reminded me of the real first lie I’d told him about why I’d had to leave the night before when Memphis had texted me.
And I was about to tell him yet another lie since I had no doubt he’d once again ask me how working late the night before had gone. It was Saturday so I didn’t have to go to work, so after saying my goodbyes to Memphis, I’d gone home. The fact that I was working so hard to keep my rendezvous with a virtual stranger a secret should have been enough to remind me that if it was something I felt the need to lie about, it probably wasn’t something I should be doing. But the idea of giving up on something with Memphis was unacceptable to me, not when I’d finally started to see a fissure in the wall he kept around himself. So as I unlocked the apartment door, I steeled myself to keep the truth from my friend a little while longer.