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 knew he was trying to please me, keeping things “no strings attached.”
But goddamn, the dutiful way he was trying to be good was only making me want him more.
I bit my lip and thumbed through my phone, looking over some old texts from him and sliding up to one of the photos he’d sent of him, shirtless in his backyard.
When I glanced up from my phone Andrew and Robbie were looking over at me a smile on both of their faces.
“You look happy,” Robbie said.
“Shut up.”
“Sanocki never looks happy like that,” Robbie told Andrew, and Andrew laughed.
“Going to be honest, man you look like you’ve got a bit of a… a glow,” Andrew said.
“I do not have a glow. What am I, a new mom?”
Andrew snickered. “New daddy, more like. You fucking somebody?”
“He’s always fucking somebody, but he never tells us about any of his guys,” Robbie said. “He’s a gentleman, like that.”
Not guys, plural, I thought, but as usual, I was private when it came to what I did—and what I’d done for the past years.
“Gentleman and a playboy,” Andrew said.
“I already like this guy,” Robbie said, pointing at Andrew. “He might be a football player, but he’s already indulging in the time-honored tradition of roasting Jesse Sanocki.”
“Do you guys want me to kill you later tonight, or should I go ahead and do it right here?” I asked.
They were laughing as they wiped off the equipment.
“Whoever your new boyfriend is, you look happier than you’ve been in… months? Years?” Robbie said. “Good shit, man.”
My cheeks went hot as he said the word boyfriend.
The fuck?
I usually didn’t blush at anything. I was proud of who I was, and confident in my decisions, but somehow thinking of Mason as my boyfriend felt impossible and also was making me feel something funny in my chest.
“Never going to happen, but if he were my boyfriend, I’d parade him around like a prize trophy, don’t you worry,” I told Robbie.
He whistled at me. “That good?”
“That good.”
I looked down at my phone, where an email had just come through with test scores from my first exam that I’d taken yesterday in Physiology.
In my history class a day ago, I’d done okay, getting an 84 on my first test. But in Physiology, I’d gotten a perfect score.
Freaking 100 out of 100.
I stood a little taller, a smile playing at my lips again. I used to get perfect scores more often, but in the last couple of years, I’d fallen off. The pride carried through me and adrenaline hit me after, making me feel like I could do anything.
Fuck it.
He’s played ‘good boy’ long enough, I think.
I took a screenshot of the score, navigated to my texts with Mason, and shot off a picture of it. I tapped out a message alongside it.
>>Jesse: Proud of me?
I put my phone away, spotting Andrew as he did his final set of deadlifts.
“Holy fuck, I don’t know how you do twenty pounds more than that,” Andrew said, putting down the barbell as he finished. “I’m convinced playing hockey turns guys into animals.”
“You’re kind of right,” I admitted.
I looked down at my phone.
>>Mason: Very. And are you proud of me?
Attached was a picture of a freshly poured concrete slab in the area of his backyard that he’d leveled off last week.
>>Jesse: So proud.
>>Mason: Poured the concrete myself. Should be able to have my hot tub delivered by next week. Perfect for parties.
The thought of Mason getting into a hot tub was enough to kick up a frenzy in me.
But as we headed off to the gym showers and rinsed off, my thoughts were running on overdrive. My mind was swirling now, thinking about other guys getting in the tub with him, which was definitely going to happen at any of the parties he threw.
Guys who certainly would want to fuck him just as much as I did.
I ran my hands along my body in the shower, rinsing off the lathered soap under the hot spray of water. I let my palm run along my cock, imagining if it was Mason’s instead, then doing a U-turn right out of that headspace because I didn’t need to end up jerking off in a gym shower.
I wanted to be the one getting in a hot tub with Mason.
Or in bed with him.
He wasn’t mine, but… he was still mine.
Sort of.
Fuck, not really, though.
I cut the water and grabbed a clean towel. I scrubbed at my face, drying off.
The worst of it was that Elliot hadn’t just ruined things between us—he’d also burned me, and my ability to trust anything. I was still healing from the deep wound he’d left, as if hookups and dating were some mine-filled war-zone.
I was fucking tired of it. And I wasn’t going to let it rule my life.