Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
That thought fueled him the rest of the way to the DC area. He blasted his sister’s latest playlist—the one she called “North Carolina Country,” and navigated his older-model Jeep through the increasingly heavy traffic. He kept the SUV in good working order, but he still felt a bit conspicuous among the newer compacts all over DC.
He checked into the hotel, texted Sam a reply with far fewer emojis, took a fast shower, and spent a bit too much time figuring out which shirt to wear, eventually settling on a blue T-shirt that advertised the triathlon he’d run for heart disease awareness, and the nicer-than-usual jeans that he usually reserved for his sporadic gay bar outings. He added boots and a heavy belt because he liked that beefed-up vibe, and he had a feeling Godz—Dustin would too.
He got to the Natural History Museum by 3:30 because he was pretty much genetically incapable of not being early, but he didn’t start loitering around the giant elephant in the rotunda where they’d agreed to meet until five till. Four o’clock came and went and no sign of a guy in a Ducks T-shirt. Dustin had mentioned his home state a few times in passing, and Wes liked knowing that little scrap of personal detail about him. At 4:10, he was tempted to send a text, but resisted. Either Dustin would show or not, and he had to be prepared for not. It wasn’t like he didn’t know how to have a good time in DC by himself—he wasn’t exactly a club rat, but he did okay for himself when he wanted to make the effort.
By 4:15, he really was about to give up, stop staring at the big bank of doors and the admissions desk where a seemingly never-ending stream of young families paid their fees. No guy who could remotely be Dustin.
“Wes?” The deep voice that haunted Wes’s dreams pulled him out of his churning thoughts. He whirled around, and there in a bright green-and-yellow T-shirt was the singularly hottest guy Wes had ever seen. He’d known Dustin was big—he claimed six four on his profile, and the broad shoulders and thick legs Wes had seen in pictures and on cam would seem to back that up, but he hadn’t ever seen the whole package.
Dirty blond hair, close cropped but with a bit of texture to it, like it would curl if given half a chance. A chiseled jaw Wes had seen hints of on camera, usually scruffier than the clean-shaven it was today. Serious brown eyes that contrasted with Dustin’s fair hair and skin and seemed to regard Wes with a sort of cautious consideration. That was okay. Wes was feeling much the same. And he knew he was staring, but the guy was seriously gorgeous. And jacked. Even his neck was muscular, and his shoulders and arms stretched the T-shirt. Ropey bare forearms led to hands shoved deep in his jean pockets. Not clubbing jeans like Wes’s—just ordinary faded Levis that hugged his tapered waist and muscled thighs.
Why would a guy this hot spend so much time online? The thought arrived before Wes could call it back. But for real, Dustin would only have to enter any bar in the country for five seconds before he’d have company for the night—and beyond, if he wanted. Wes knew why he himself spent so much time online—intractable insomnia combined with the pressures of the job and his family. He simply didn’t have time for anything else, but he needed a way to fill the long hours when he wasn’t sleeping.
“Wes?” the guy repeated.
“Oh. Yeah.” Articulate. That was him. He stuck out a hand because that seemed like the thing to do. It took Dustin a minute to decide what to do with that, indecision written all over his furrowed forehead and narrowed eyes, but finally he pulled a hand out of his pocket and took Wes’s with a big, firm grip.
“Nice to meet you.” Dustin had a great voice or so Wes had always thought—no accent, but deep and rich, like real maple syrup. His voice was, however, more nervous than Wes had heard it in a while, having the same hitch it’d had the first few times they’d voice chatted.
“Same.” Wes laughed because this tension was about to kill him. “This is weird, right?”
“Totally.” Dustin smiled for the first time, revealing a hint of dimples on either side of his mouth. Adorable. “I’m... I’ve never done this before.”
“I know.” Smiling didn’t come naturally to Wes, but he forced himself to try to return Dustin’s. “Me either.”
“Really?” Dustin’s eyebrow quirked, and he lowered his voice. “You’ve never met anyone else from the app? Would have figured that you’d get around.”
“Is that your way of assuming I’m a manwhore?” Wes didn’t really bristle, keeping his voice light and accent heavy. Truth was, he was a bit flattered as his actual experience total would probably make Dustin gasp for a whole different reason.