Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
What-the-fuck?
Descending the exterior stairs and crossing the parking lot toward the street, I decide it doesn’t matter what I call the feeling inside me. We’re not a thing. We’re just two guys who needed each other last night.
That’s it.
Nothing more, nothing less.
I stop at the curb with a sigh. The air is thicker than I want it to be, and before I’ve made it five blocks, my tank is already drenched in sweat. I assumed I should just head south, since I know Adrian’s place is on the north side of the island. But where exactly do Vann and Toby live? I glance at my phone, realize it’s dead again, then resort to roaming mindlessly through the town, picking the streets at random until I find one that’s familiar. I know they live near where the party was hosted last night. Artist Row was one of the streets. That ought to give me a clue. Also, they live just up the road from the beach, so it can’t be too hard to find the right area.
But the real problem isn’t finding my friend’s house.
It’s that I can’t stop thinking about Adrian.
It’s not even an infatuation thing. I’m just genuinely shocked the two of us had the kind of night we had: laidback, soul-baring, and sweet. I expected him to get impatient. Or to reveal that he really is some kind of self-centered douchebag. Instead, I let all of my guards down, and I feel like I made a real friend.
Maybe I should have gone to breakfast with him.
Wouldn’t have Vann understood?
Look at me, wandering aimlessly through town, my head floating with happiness and delirium, like a lovesick teenager. I’ve been reduced to a thick pool of syrupy emotions. I’m running all over the stack of pancakes, spilling off the plate, making everything sticky. I’m also the hands desperately trying to clean it all up, but only succeeding in spreading the sugary filth worse and worse.
Adrian isn’t even my type.
Yet why am I so instantly obsessed with the idea of being around him? We’ve been apart for ten minutes now, and already I want to see him again and continue right where we left off. I want to live in whatever world we created last night, then never let it end. I don’t even care if we never have sex; I just want to kick back on his balcony again, or squeeze up next to each other on his couch and watch another bad movie, or stay up on his bed while he rubs my aching neck—massaging me again, his hands on me, pleasing me, melting me.
And this time, I won’t forget a second of it on account of however much wine we allegedly swallowed.
What the hell has gotten into me?
Suddenly, I’m on the right street. I recognize it the moment I turn onto it. As I approach the front of the house, I notice Vann’s bike out front, so he must be home. I find the front door unlocked and let myself in. The house is eerily quiet. I gently shut the door behind me like some shameful teenager who’s just returned after being out all night past curfew, then look around. No one seems to be awake. I tiptoe to the back of the house to find the guest room empty and the sheets undisturbed, which leaves me wondering where Toby’s friend Kelsey is. Did she stay somewhere else last night, too?
After a perplexed frown, I sneak back to the living room, where I am abruptly brought to a stop when I realize there’s a cat at my feet.
She stares up at me, like she knows.
I glare down at her, daring the sassy little feline to say something.
“Quintin!”
I nearly jump straight out of my skin. Vann is at the doorway to the kitchen, mouth agape, a half-peeled banana in hand.
“V-Vann!”
“Dude, where were you? I called you a million times!”
“My phone died, I’m so, so sorry. I’m fine, I swear.”
Vann shakes his head. “I’m learning this place is pretty safe, but damn, I’ve lived in big cities, man, I don’t trust that easily. Some shady-ass people come here, too.”
“I’ll charge my phone now before I forget.” I go for my bag, still sitting by the couch, and fish out my charger.
Vann continues eating his banana, leaning against the wall. “You said you met someone.”
“I did? Oh, right.” I’ve already forgotten the last text I sent him on my way to Adrian’s place.
“Glad to see this random person you met wasn’t a serial killer, since you’re still, y’know, alive.”
“I know, I’m sorry. But no, he wasn’t a weirdo. He’s a local, like you.”
“Oh, really?” He squints at me. “Who is it?”
My face warms over, thinking of him. I shrug coyly. “Someone.”
“So we’re playing this game, huh?” He smacks his lips and approaches the couch. “C’mon, Quintin, tell me. I may be new here, but I do know some names around town.”