Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 540(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 540(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
“So, I thought maybe you’d want to ride with us to pick up your new roommate,” Bishop said as if he was going for upbeat, but it fell flat.
“I’ll wait here,” Trent grumbled.
Bishop pinched the bridge of his nose, and Trent almost felt bad for giving him such a hard time. His friend was between a rock and a hard place. He’d never leave Trent out in the cold, but Bishop owed his old cellmate, Wood, his life. Offering him a place to stay when he got out until Wood was on his feet was exactly how Bishop would repay that debt.
“Come on, T. Just try and be cool for me, okay. You’ll see Wood is a decent guy if you give him a chance.” Bishop went and stood in front of a picture of Trent and Miles their first year at the Hampton Jazz Festival. “I hope you’re not upset about me moving out.”
Trent scoffed at the absolute ridiculousness of that idea. “I’m a grown man, B. I’ve been trying to get your happily in love ass to leave forever. You think I’m upset to finally have my own room? I’ve been sleeping on that raggedy couch out there for months.”
Bishop frowned, continuing to stare at him, perhaps seeing right through his bullshit. Trent leapt up and headed toward the door. “Is Edison cooking? Something smells good.”
Trent didn’t bother glancing behind him; he could hear Bishop’s heavy boots following him down the narrow hallway. Damnit, he did need to chill out. All the anxiety of meeting Wood had given him some terrible headaches the last few days. While unpacking all of his possessions from his storage and getting his room in order had kept him pretty distracted, he still couldn’t shake the nerves he was feeling at the thought of a stranger—a recently released from prison stranger—sleeping a few feet across the hall from him.
“Trent, I’m still talki—”
“Edison!” Trent shouted, startling Bishop’s boyfriend. Edison flinched as he stood in the small kitchen stirring a steaming pot of something that smelled delicious. “This place only smells good when you come over. Leave Bishop and come cook for me full-time.”
Edison turned around with a soft grin on his round, handsome face. “You can’t afford me, Trent.”
“Or you could just tell him you’re not interested in leaving me,” Bishop growled at his partner.
“What’s this? Smells like chicken.” Trent leaned over Edison’s shoulder although they were about the same height and tried to remove the lid when his knuckles got popped with a wooden spoon.
“Shit! Ouch.”
“Wash your hands. I don’t know what you’ve been doing back there all this time.”
“That actually hurts, doesn’t it.” Bishop laughed at Trent as he held up his own red knuckles.
“Come on, guys, we better go or we’ll be late. That won’t be a good first impression, huh, Trent? It’ll take us at least thirty minutes to get to Suffolk if we can avoid any traffic.” Edison turned the stove off and wiped his hands on the dish towel. “I was thinking when we get back we could eat the stew, talk, and get to know each other.”
“Wood’s not that big of a talker, babe, and we don’t want to overwhelm him as soon as he gets here.” Bishop stood behind his boyfriend and rubbed his shoulders through his trendy button-up dress shirt, whispering in his ear, “Let’s hold off on the sharing session for a while.”
Trent stood with his back to them as he washed his hands at the kitchen sink. He needed to think of a way to get out of this car trip. Meeting Bishop’s other best friend like that would just make things weirder than they were already going to be. “I think I’ll just wait here. No need for a welcome wagon to show up.”
“Trent.” Bishop sulked, which looked ridiculous on a man his size. “You promised.”
“And I’m keeping that promise, all right,” Trent plastered on a huge grin. “Me and Wood are gonna get along great. You’re worrying for nothing.”
“All right. Whatever.” Bishop took Edison’s hand and strolled across the small dining room toward the front door. He absently helped Edison into his coat as if he did it all the time, and Trent again found himself looking away. Sometimes Bishop and Edison’s love for each other was damn near blinding. “We’ll be back soon. Keep everything nice and neat.”
Trent almost threw the stew spoon at the door after Bishop left. Who the hell did he think had been cleaning this place from top to bottom for three days? He glanced around the trailer as the silence slowly began to sink in. He went to the window and watched as his only friend in the world got farther and farther away. Literally. Trent wondered why he always paid the price when anyone around him found happiness.