Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59396 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59396 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
“Yes, sir!” Tim slips right into his chair as if he was sitting there the whole time, picks up the dice, and takes to rolling. The roll is less than adequate, landing them on a go-to-jail square. “S-Sorry, sir. I … I seem to have made you unhappy.”
“You should probably get back to my feet then until I’m back to being happy,” Elliot decides. Tim vanishes the next moment while Elliot kicks back with a sigh, then shakes his head at us. “I swear, I don’t ask for much. I’m reasonable. I keep my expectations low. Am I too demanding?”
The rest of us laugh, including Jonty and Danny, who seem to have settled on a truce of sorts. Soon, the rhythm of our game is restored, and we’re back to playing without any further world-ending issues.
It’s like this every Saturday night: a triple-date game night. Sometimes Elliot and Tim are absent, too busy doing their own thing—likely something kinky in the privacy of the apartment they got together a few months ago. But the remaining four of us look forward to it every weekend. Sometimes when it’s just us four, we’ll mix up the couples, with me and Prisha being on a team, and Danny and Jonty being on another. But quite often we’re accused of cheating, since Prisha and I have a weird way of reading one another’s minds during charades. We can’t help it.
But after Monopoly, the six of us settle on the couch with some fresh drinks and a giant bowl of popcorn, and put on a classic movie everyone’s seen ten times. Prisha and Jonty are cuddled up together on one side of the couch, now and then reciting a line they know, then snickering. Elliot is in the arm chair with Tim sitting on the floor in front of him, squeezed between Elliot’s legs, still obsessed with pleasing him even during the movie.
Danny lies next to me at the other end of the couch with his head in my lap, where I gently stroke his hair, only half paying attention to the movie. Even after a whole year of being together, I catch myself wondering just how I possibly could deserve such happiness. Sometimes it feels like I’m living someone else’s life, watching my contentment through a magic funhouse mirror.
Is this really my life?
“Of course it is,” says Danny when we step out onto the fire escape together for a quick breath of fresh air. It’s a slow part of the movie anyway. “Why would you doubt it?”
“I don’t know. Maybe without the big, tough coldness of ‘Romeo’ guarding my heart anymore, I’ve been feeling rather vulnerable lately. Like I might … wake up someday, and … and realize I never deserved any of this.” I turn to him. “Do you remember a year ago, when we went on that date, kinda our first ‘real’ date …”
“… and I lured you to my apartment for the first time where we finally made love?”
I smile. “Yes. That night. I was so afraid that was going to be a fluke … like our first and last night together.”
“Really?”
“I thought maybe you’d realize I wasn’t such a catch. Maybe I was as shallow as all of the meatheads and assholes and jerks that rotated through the gym like revolving doors. Maybe underneath the initial fascination, you’d realize … I wasn’t much of a catch in the end.”
“No, no, no.” Danny takes my hand and pulls me closer to him. “Listen to me. If this past year with you has taught me anything, it’s that you are so much more than a great catch. You’re … how do I put this?” He smiles when it comes to him. “You’re the most infuriating person I’ve ever known.”
I pull back. “Say what?”
“You heard me.” He smirks as he observes my reaction. “You’re touchy sometimes. You get in a bad mood when your team disappoints you at work. You don’t always clean up your hair in the shower.”
“Eww, yes, I do.”
“You hate doing dishes. You get, like … irrationally mad when you spot mistakes in news articles. You can’t cook.”
“Hey, now, I can make a mean bowl of Easy Mac …”
“And you have weird taste in workout music.” He brings his face close to mine. “And it’s for literally all of those reasons that I love you, Romeo. Your imperfections. Your humanness. Your sweetness. Your overconfidence when you should be humble. And your modesty when you have a total right to brag. I love all of you, every part of you.” He kisses me. “Romeo, you’re more than just a good catch. You’re the catch. You’re the guy I’ve waited my whole life to find.”
I bite my lip. “I’m still working out the shower thing, to be honest.”
“And I’m irrevocably in love with you, Romeo.”