Total pages in book: 13
Estimated words: 12091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 60(@200wpm)___ 48(@250wpm)___ 40(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 12091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 60(@200wpm)___ 48(@250wpm)___ 40(@300wpm)
My hands reach for the rest of my buttons, hesitating a second because I can feel his gaze pressing in on me again. Is he as attracted to me as I am to him, or am I just imagining his intense scrutiny?
Or more than likely, his curiosity is due to watching me online for months and reconciling seeing me in person. Caleb flips off the light, possibly to give me some privacy, and I’m grateful for it—mostly. It’s been a while since I’ve been in this type of scenario—not the whole elevator breaking down scenario, but one where I’m in the presence of a very attractive man with time to kill.
When my last button is undone, I open my shirt to allow some needed air against my clammy skin, but it’s not enough relief. Given that he can’t see me, I decide to take it off, squatting down to fold it carefully on top of my jacket along with the bowtie.
“So what made you take up cooking?” Caleb’s voice is gruffer now and it makes my dick pay attention. Christ, much longer and I might combust being in this small space with this man.
“I learned everything I know from my grandmother who raised me after my mom passed away. I mean, my dad helped too, but he was always at work, and most of my memories consist of him coming home when I was already in bed.”
Dad would enter my room to say good night if I was still awake, or to kiss my forehead if my eyes were already shut. Sometimes I’d try to stay conscious long enough to get those five minutes of quality time with him. Huh, maybe there is something to my choosing unavailable men.
“Shit, I’m sorry about your mom,” Caleb replies, his voice thick with real emotion. “I can’t imagine losing my mom, she practically raised me on her own. My dad played hockey too, always traveling. The schedule professional hockey players have to keep is… grueling, to say the least. He tried to make up for everything in the off season. He was a good dad, and I know he loves me, but at the end of the day our relationship was more like coach and player, and less like father and son.”
I frown. “Yeah, I hear you. I know my dad loves me too, but he became more distant after we lost my mom. Almost like he was burying his grief in work.”
He sighs. “Hopefully, we’ll be better at it all—if we ever have kids.”
“No, thanks,” I retort, and he chuckles. “I have a hard enough time taking care of myself.”
“Yeah, I’m not really sure yet myself.” The space grows quiet again. “Anyway, you were telling me about how you started cooking?”
“Oh yeah…well, I would help my grandmother prep practically every meal and carried on the tradition when I moved out on my own. I still look forward to getting home and cooking dinner, even if it’s only for me. Besides, it means plenty of leftovers.” I think about how content I am in my apartment with my newly remodeled kitchen that was worth every penny. Lots of my subscribers remark on my colorful backsplash and stainless appliances. “I even enjoy hosting dinner parties for friends, which is how Jace and Rob met.”
“Look at you, a regular matchmaker too.”
“Sure am,” I tease. “Come to one of my parties and I’ll set you up too.”
“Yeah…no, thanks.” His tone sounds grim. “More trouble than it’s worth.”
“Is it? But you have needs too.”
“I’ll just have to stick with hookups.”
“That, according to you, don’t really happen.”
“Maybe I need to seek them out more,” he replies and my stomach flutters.
“Like in a dark elevator?” Did I really just say that out loud? “Just kidding. Sometimes my mouth works faster than my brain.”
“Don’t tempt me…” he trails off and I swallow hard. I think of something to say to break the tension when his voice booms in the small space. “So, what’s your day job?”
I suppose I’m glad for the change of subject. Sort of. “Ugh, not something I enjoy, which is why I started the videos, to give me something to look forward to after work. I’m in sales…I sell insurance.”
He’s quiet for a long beat, then says, “I didn’t picture that for you.”
I get that a lot. Still, I’m curious. “Why not?”
“You’re so vibrant in your videos with your painted nails and self-deprecating sense of humor.”
“Huh. Maybe that’s why I always meet my sales thresholds. You’re looking at employee of the month right here,” I tease, but there’s no heat to it. Smugness, either. It’s literally the most boring job in the world, but it pays my bills. “Anyway, thanks.”
“You must have a plethora of rabid fans who are gay men.”
I smile. “Mostly women, but yeah, I’ve gotten a DM or two.”