Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
“Come on, baby,” I urge. “We have ten minutes until I have to get ready. You know what we could accomplish in ten minutes?”
I wait for his anger or his silence. It’ll be one or the other, but I’m hoping for anger because it’ll be much better than him refusing to even look in my direction like he did the last time he was here.
We haven’t talked about the fight we had. We’ve both just let it fester between us. Or more accurately, I’ve let it fester, and he just doesn’t give a shit.
“Oh. Archer, honey. No.”
I freeze, Davien’s voice surprising me when I expect it to be Brooks.
I roll over and face him, making sure the blanket doesn’t slip further down than my abdomen.
The erection that started with my teasing starts to wane. I love my friend, but I don’t see him that way.
“Oh, hi, Dav! So good to see you!”
He frowns at my false enthusiasm, his arms coming up to cross over his barrel chest.
“Really?”
“What?” I ask, trying my best to look innocent.
“Are you fucking that man?”
“No. I’m not.”
Before I can stop him, Davien reaches down and pulls up the edge of the blanket.
“But you want to?”
“I sleep naked. I always have,” I say rather than answering his question.
“So this was the hypothetical guy you called me about two days ago.”
“We spoke two days ago?”
He looks less than impressed with my playfulness when I sit up and tuck the blankets around my hips.
“I told you then, and I’ll tell you now, trying to turn straight men gay is a bad idea. You could end up dead.”
I tilt my head, scowling at him. “Well, aren’t you just quick to spit all kinds of stereotypes right now?”
“And what about that is a stereotype?” he challenges.
“Not all straight men think of murder when they get hit on by another guy.”
“Some do.”
“And some cheetahs are fat, so stop with the one size fits all. You’re not giving decent human beings enough credit.”
“But you’re admitting to hitting on a straight guy,” he says.
“I’m not discussing this with you.”
“And now you’re keeping secrets from your best friend.”
“I’m avoiding a conversation with a judgmental asshole,” I correct.
He huffs like only he can do before walking out the door.
I called him a couple of days ago during a weak moment. I wanted answers to my observations of what Dr. Kent told me to look for. I wanted another opinion. I never mentioned Brooks’s name, but my friend has always been quick to put two and two together. He knows, other than my therapist, house manager, and yoga instructor, that Brooks is the only person I’ve been around on a regular basis these days. There’s also the fact that Davien is a tabloid whore and reads any and all facts about celebrities he can find. I know the man hasn’t missed a single story involving Brooks and me.
Wanting to avoid further confrontation with Davien, I climb out of bed and head straight to the shower, taking my sweet ass time getting clean.
By the time I make it downstairs to the kitchen, Brooks and Davien are in a stare-off with each other.
“What’s going on?” I ask, eyeing my best friend. The man always speaks his mind and I don’t doubt that he left my room and came down here expressing all of his outlandish suspicions to Brooks.
“Nothing,” Davien answers in a voice too sweet to mean anything but the opposite.
I look to Brooks for answers, but he barely looks at me as he walks past. “I’ll be in the car.”
“What did you say to him?” I snap the second the front door closes.
“Just set the man straight.”
I hate that he emphasizes the last word.
“And you did that how?”
He flutters his fingers in the air. “The details aren’t important.”
“We’re going to talk about this later. I have an appointment to get to.”
“I’ll take you,” he offers, and I have to wonder if it has more to do with him wanting to limit my time with Brooks or if he actually wants to help.
I open my mouth to refuse. Brooks has been avoiding me since our argument last week. He had been spending extra time here even on days that we didn’t have anything scheduled, but that came to a screeching halt after I confronted him and he stormed out.
I’ve missed the man, and I don’t know that I want to give up one of the occasions that we can spend together, even if it’s in silence on the drive to Dr. Kent’s office.
“Fine,” I say, knowing that torturing myself with being around Brooks isn’t the healthiest plan.
“Here,” Davien says, holding out a travel mug of coffee.
“Bribes aren’t going to make you win,” I mutter.
“I’m not trying to win anything.”
I ignore him as I leave the kitchen, and then I ignore Brooks as I walk toward Davien’s car. I don’t want to see the relief in the man’s eyes when he realizes he doesn’t have to put up with me today.