Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
How our hips are drawn to each other’s like magnets.
The fact that with this act, all pretense is dropped, all lies are shed, and no excuses can be made anymore for our behavior.
This isn’t an accident under the Christmas tree.
We want each other.
Our lips press together with more intention than I have given anything since stepping foot in this dusty little town—even more intention than every damned breath I draw.
Every last ache in my heart is gone.
This is where I belong.
“Well, hello, boys.”
Samuel and I stop kissing at once, but somehow are unable to let go of one another’s bodies. We turn toward the voice.
Billy, standing at the foot of the stairs, peering up at us.
Tanner right behind him with a half-amused, half-baffled look on his face, squinting.
Belatedly, Samuel lets go of me and smooths out his wrinkled shirt. “S-Sorry, Mr. Tucker-Strong, Mr. Billy, Tanner, I—” He clears his throat and lets out a nervous chuckle. “I was just here to, ah … visit my new buddy Malcolm, and we—I—”
“Hey, no need to explain,” Tanner assures him with a gesture of his hand—which quickly lands over his mouth to stifle a laugh. “Lost count of the number of times Billy and I made out up there, right where you’re standing. Probably Jimmy n’ Bobs, too.”
I stiffen up at the mention of Jimmy and Bobby, then clear my throat. “Sorry …” I start to say.
“For what?” Tanner laughs. “Don’t worry one bit about it. Go back to doin’ whatever you want to do. Billy and I were just …” He squints back at the kitchen. “What did we come here to get? Milk? Yeah, that’s it. Marcus and Joshua wanted late night cereal.”
Billy eyes him. “You wanted late night cereal. Don’t go blamin’ the kids for your sweet tooth.” Before his husband can protest, he snaps his fingers. “Oh! Right! TJ saw you two at the Shoppe. It was yesterday afternoon sometime. He was pretty sure you guys were a thing, but wasn’t certain. Now I can clear the air with him.”
This is how it starts—the Spruce rumor mill. “No,” I blurt, coming right up to the edge of the banister, so close I nearly flip myself over it. “We were … It was just … It wasn’t what it looked like.”
Samuel shoots me a look. “It wasn’t …?” he mumbles under his breath.
Billy lifts his eyebrows. “Oh. So … you guys weren’t just makin’ out right now?”
With a big sigh, Tanner comes up to Billy’s side. “C’mon, babe. You’re doin’ that thing you do.”
Billy turns. “What thing?” He scoffs. “No, I’m not.”
“You’re more like my mom than I’ll ever be.” Tanner gives us a wave. “Sorry for interrupting, boys. We’re on our way out—with the milk.” With an arm over Billy’s back, the two of them leave through the kitchen. I hear the sound of the refrigerator opening, shutting—a small bit of laughter—then the two are gone.
And we’re left in silence, reeling from what just happened.
Not from Billy and Tanner catching us. I forgot them the very second they left.
I’m talking about the thing they interrupted.
The us thing.
“Malcolm …”
“I’m not sure what just happened,” I state rather quickly, “just that it was impulsive and—”
“Amazing?” Samuel offers unhelpfully.
“It was impulsive,” I repeat. “I wasn’t thinking. I am obviously going through something right now.”
“Puberty?”
I eye him. “This isn’t funny.”
“I thought the kiss was incredible,” says Samuel, “and I’m still feeling your mouth on mine like it never left. That’s quite a feat to pull off for someone who hasn’t kissed anyone in three years. Oh, except for that moment you attacked me under the tree—”
“That doesn’t count.”
“And I’m not sure what all that nonsense was with you tellin’ Billy we aren’t a thing. We most definitely are a thing now.”
“No, we’re not.”
“Uh, yeah we are.”
I swipe the first aid kit off the ground where I dropped it and leave him at the banister, heading into the bathroom.
Of course he follows, blocking the door. “Malc …”
I crouch in front of the sink with the lower cabinet open, then sigh. “While the kiss might have felt great in the moment,” I admit calmly, “now that we aren’t kissing, I’m having … loads of different thoughts. Rational thoughts.” I stuff the first aid kit away.
“So? Love ain’t rational.”
I shut the cabinet door and gawk at him. “The hell? Who said anything about ‘love’?”
He crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe. “Call me an old-fashioned romantic,” he says with a cocky smirk, “but I’m pretty sure what we’re doin’ is laying the groundwork for the love story we’ll tell our kids someday.”
I can barely form the words. “You’re a fucking lunatic.”
His face goes flat. “That’s the first time I heard you cuss.”
I rise from the floor and walk right up to him. “I don’t give in to impulses. That’s not who I am. I don’t just ‘give away free kisses willy-nilly like a holiday elf’.”