Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
“Maybe.” Jeremy shrugged and gave Reg a goofy grin. “But tomorrow morning we’re getting coffee, and you’re agreeing to be all mine for a year.”
Having been working most of the time Jeremy had been drinking, Reg was still very much sober, so that comment had him firming up down below. Of course, he knew what Jeremy wanted wasn’t a real boyfriend. The poor guy needed a friend, someone to spend time with who wouldn’t have ulterior motives or make constant demands. It was sad that he felt he had to essentially hire that function out, but Reg wouldn’t complain. Jeremy was cool, his music was amazing, and touring the world would be a dream come true.
“I hope so, man,” he said. “That’d be awesome.”
“It would.” Jeremy nodded. “No more lonely nights. No more boring flights with nobody to talk to. No more girls who say they want to be with me when they don’t even like me, and all they really want is a leg up.” He sighed. “No more.”
Not knowing how to respond, Reg squeezed Jeremy’s shoulder in support.
Jeremy yawned.
“All right. You’re beat, I’m beat. Let’s hit it. I’ll grab a pillow for you. You need anything else? Blanket?”
“No.” Yanking his shirt off over his head, Jeremy stumbled to the sofa. “I’m good.” He flopped onto his back, unbuttoned his slim-cut jeans, and shoved them off his trim hips. “I’m stuck,” he said pathetically when the jeans got tangled around his ankles. “Why won’t these come off?” He kicked his feet and flailed around, looking absurd but adorable.
“You’re a funny drunk.” Reg walked over and grabbed his feet. “Stay still.”
Jeremy froze.
“Shoes first, then pants,” Reg teased as he pulled off Jeremy’s sneakers.
“Forgot,” Jeremy mumbled, his voice sounding thick, his eyes dropping closed. Seemed like the long day and the abundance of alcohol had caught up with him.
“Hold on, superstar.” He tugged Jeremy’s jeans off, leaving him wearing a tiny pair of black briefs that left very little to the imagination. From the look of things, the guy had a nice set of nuts, big enough to hold in your hand when you were sucking his dick. Brushing off the thought, Reg grabbed Jeremy’s ankle and shook it. “You need to hit the head before you crash.” When he got no response, he shook his leg again. “Seriously. Get up. I don’t need more piss on this couch.”
“More piss?” Jeremy asked, struggling to rise to sitting position. “Who do you have over that isn’t toilet trained?”
“My niece and nephew, their dog, and anybody who used this couch before I found it.”
“You found a couch?” Jeremy finally managed to stand up, but he wasn’t steady on his feet. “Where do you find a couch?”
Looking Jeremy over from head to toe, Reg had only one thought: goddamn, the boy was fine with a capital F.
Though he wasn’t big—Reg figured Jeremy for five foot ten, one hundred fifty pounds on a good day—he was all lean, cut muscles and smooth, creamy skin. The pictures Reg had seen in magazines didn’t do justice to the live version. Reg had always considered Jeremy Jameson attractive, but his image didn’t come up in Reg’s head when he was alone in bed at night. No doubt that was about to change. After being with a barely clad Jeremy in person, Reg knew the spank bank was officially well stocked as far as inspirational images were concerned.
“I found it on the side of the road”—Reg wrapped his arm around Jeremy’s shoulders and led him to the bathroom—“on bulk trash pickup day.”
“Oh.”
“Are you going to be okay in there, or do you need help?” he asked once they were standing outside the door leading to the bathroom.
“I don’t need help draining the lizard!” Jeremy said, sounding affronted, and then he walked face-first into the bathroom door. “Ow!” Laughing so hard he had to gasp for air, Reg watched Jeremy weave his way into the bathroom, rubbing his forehead and muttering, “Hurts.”
“Try not to piss on my floor. Okay, superstar?”
The door slammed. Reg heard a bumping noise followed by another “Ow!” and then what he was pretty sure was Jeremy crashing to the floor. “I’m okay!” The sound of shuffling filtered through the thin door. “Everything’s fine!”
Cracking up all over again, Reg went into his bedroom to get out of his boots and jeans, letting himself imagine how great it would be to have nights like that for a year. He really hoped Jeremy was sincere about his offer and it hadn’t been the beer talking.
“Reg!”
“Yes.” Reg toed off his boots.
“The toilet won’t flush.”
“You need to jiggle the handle.” He tugged his belt off and pushed his jeans down.
“What does that mean?”
Okay, so maybe not exactly like that. Better plumbing fixtures would be nice.
“Leave it. I’ll take care of it in a minute.” After tossing his jeans onto his dresser so he could wear them again the next morning, he grabbed a pillow off the bed and walked back into the main room.