Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73094 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73094 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
I didn’t care if I was woozy on allergy pills or not. He was mesmerizing. Did he have this effect on everyone? And those—
“Tattoos,” I said out loud in a murmur, out of nowhere. Shit. That’s not how conversations worked.
“What about them?” Jesse asked.
“They’re just really nice. Do you have a favorite?”
There. That was a perfectly reasonable, grammatical English question.
“Maybe this,” Jesse said, sliding his hand out from where I was holding it and pointing to a tattoo on his other arm. “It’s called a summer redbird. I saw one the morning after I found out about my ex cheating, and I had one tattooed on me by the end of that week. She kind of marks the beginning of my fresh start, and I fucking love her.”
“So beautiful,” I said, and I meant it more than ever. It was one of my favorite tattoos of his, too, a gorgeous ruby red bird in flight, just below his elbow. “Hey, Jesse. You don’t have to stay here, if you have, y’know, places to be. Frat houses to… do frat things, in.”
He looked serious for a moment, glancing back down at my hand and squeezing it again, running his fingers along my palm now. “I have absolutely nowhere else to be, Mason.”
God, that feels so good. Keep doing that thing with your fingers. Forever, if you want.
A moment later I blinked my eyes open.
Shit.
Maybe it was more than a moment later.
I was dozing off without realizing it.
“I’m awake. Is it almost time?”
“No. Because we’re calling this party off,” Jesse said. “Text your friends.”
“I can still… well, maybe I shouldn’t.”
“I think sleep is what you need most. Here.”
He handed me my phone. I grabbed it and thumbed through it, but with how drowsy I was, texting everybody honestly seemed like more effort than it was worth.
I waved my hand through the air.
“They can still come over. Just tell them I’m sleeping.”
Jesse smiled. “You are so fucking cute.”
Ugh.
Yes.
I liked that. Way too much.
“Fine. Help me out,” I asked him, navigating to my texts. “Top three group chats. Just say party’s off, or something. They’ll understand.”
“Okay,” Jesse said, and he sat next to me, thumbing through and tapping out a message to the group chats as I watched. “Done. They all know.”
My eyes scanned the previous messages on the screen of the last group chat, and I bit my tongue as I saw the top one.
I’d messaged them earlier today:
>>Mason: Is it bad to want to fuck your friend’s brother? For context, hypothetically, he’s the hottest person you’ve seen in years. Keep that in mind.
I had no clue if Jesse had seen that text or not, but the look on his face was pretty goddamn satisfied right now. A moment later he put my phone down on the coffee table, turning to me.
“Bedtime?”
“Oh, shit, the horses,” I said. “I wanted to go out and check on them one last time.”
“I can go out and do a quick check before I leave,” Jesse offered. “It’s really no problem.”
“They did seem comfortable around you,” I said.
He nodded. “I’ll take care of it. You can sleep. Promise the world won’t crash down around you if you get a good night’s sleep.”
I hummed. “Finn always says I need better sleep.”
“Well, he sounds like a good friend. He’s right.”
I was lost in the green of his eyes. His lashes were longer than they had any right to be.
I hung in that moment, watching him like he was some impossible thing I’d dreamed up. He was so close to me on the couch, and I focused on his pretty freckles, just below his eyes.
“Oh, God,” I murmured in a low voice. “I really like you.”
He smiled and it only made me melt even more inside. When one of his dimples showed up, I was pretty sure I might actually pass out.
“I’ll help you to bed.”
He took my arm and I stood up. I had no problem walking even though I was tired, but I wasn’t going to refuse Jesse’s arm if he was offering it.
We got up the stairs and at the end of the hall, my bedroom doors were open. He walked over with me and I sank down on the mattress, which felt like another marshmallow.
“Thank you for coming over. And—I’m sorry I didn’t want to talk about the article, Jesse,” I said. “I just don’t like thinking about shitty things, okay? I’m not… I’m not being fake. I never will be.”
“It’s okay to be sad sometimes, you know?” he said. “It’s a part of life. You can be yourself, even if that’s sad, at some moments.”
“I’m not sad around you. You smell good. Fuck, do you know how good you smell?”
I was saying nonsense and my eyes were already heavy with sleep again, blinking shut. I vaguely registered the sound of him walking back off toward my door, and I was aware that he was leaving.