Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 161257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 806(@200wpm)___ 645(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 161257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 806(@200wpm)___ 645(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
Jonah nodded sheepishly, but two seconds later was back to studying every nuance of Ledger’s face. Which sent Ledger back to happily watching Jonah stare at him.
Sean smirked in amusement. Perfect polar opposites. So much so, it was actually kind of cute. “Personally,” he piped in, “I think Death of a Bachelor’s their best, hands down.”
This time, however, neither bothered to look at him.
“How ‘bout Pilots’?” Ledger’s turn to ask the question, his dark eyes glued intently to Joe’s face. As if, in atypical form, he actually was interested in Jonah’s opinion. Ledger was rarely interested in anyone else’s. His own always seemed to suffice.
Jonah turned and faced Ledger fully. Ledger mirrored the gesture.
“Blurryface.” Jonah smiled.
Ledger lifted a brow and grinned. “Not Vessel? Or Regional at Best?”
Joe shoved his hands deeper in his pockets, shook his head. “Nope...” His smile turned boyish. “Those are close, but… no.”
Ledger’s eyes glinted. “Hmm. Wanna make a request for last set? I can swap out a song, no problem.”
Jonah blinked again, back to beaming. He shifted his weight. “Fuck, yeah, I would. Thanks. Um... So, lemme think. Which one….”
““Polarize” is good,” Ledger offered. “Or “Heavydirtysoul”.”
“No…” Jonah made a face in thought, one Ledger seemed to really enjoy—going by the way his eyes just hooded. “I’m thinking either “Goner” or… “The Judge” …”
Ledger’s grin widened. “Nice.” A slow nod of approval. “Nothing mainstream. Some of their other stuff’s getting grossly overplayed.”
“Right? “Stressed Out” is getting beat to death. Not cool.”
“Truth.”
And just like that, the pair were deep in convo.
Sean smiled. Mission accomplished. Joe was surely on cloud nine. Sean watched them for a minute, noting both men’s expressions. Although, he knew Jonah to be star struck, his friend was hiding it pretty well. Had the whole cool, calm, and collected thing flowing smoothly. Of course, Ledger was just plain Ledger, with his fuck-me eyes and naughty grin. Sean would bet his next paycheck Joe had a boner. Hell, he popped a woody when a new book released. No way he could keep it down with Ledger ogling him.
Sean leaned his back against the bar and took a swig of beer. Watching his best friend and his past fuck conversing felt, well, it felt kind of weird. His gaze roamed down Ledger’s lean, muscular frame, then climbed back up to linger on Ledger’s face. On those dark brown eyes that used to stare up Sean’s body, holding Sean’s gaze as those lips worked Sean’s cock. Sean studied said lips as Ledger shot the shit with Jonah. If those two studs hooked up, there’d be no more blowjobs for Sean. No more skull fucking sessions with the rock god. Sean waited for disappointment, for jealousy, to descend. Or if nothing else, a little nostalgia. But none of that came. Not even a whisper.
Because his heart was one hundred percent taken.
Sean sighed, his gaze back to absently roaming, scanning every face in the crowd. Not that he really thought Max would be there. Nevertheless, the urge to look for Max wherever he went seemed ingrained into the fabric of his psyche. Like Max was part of him now, on some fundamental level, ever at the forefront of his mind.
He pulled out his cell again. Still no messages. His heart squeezed dejectedly, not understanding. It wasn’t like his text had been bugging Max for anything. He’d just wanted to know that the guy was alright. Sean shoved it back into his pocket and let out a sigh. Guess he’d get his answer next session.
FIFTEEN
Hey, Max. It’s Sean. You said to use this number if I ever had issues. Well, I do. I’m worried about you. Text me back. Let me know you’re okay.
Max read Sean’s text for the umpteenth time, its message both touching and tormenting. Fuck, it was Tuesday, five days after Sean’s visit, and he still couldn’t get what happened off his mind. His jaw ticked. His eyes flickered with pent-up emotion. Agitation. Stress. Uncertainty. Anger. Mostly at himself, but also at Sean. No way Sean thought he’d actually respond.
He squeezed his fist tighter around the item in his hand, his thumb rubbing its one edge incessantly. Why? Why the fuck? Why did Sean have to be so perfect? So lighthearted. So smart. So ambitious. So fun. So goddamn motherfucking sexy. It was irritating. Made him mental. But Sean’s most formidable attribute? His crazy strength, both inside and out. A trait that, under normal circumstances, was a positive. Hell, for reasons he opted not to acknowledge, it was one of his favorite qualities about the kid. After all, he admired strength. Venerated it. Lived by it. Recognized and respected it in others.
Unfortunately, where Sean was concerned, said trait was making Max’s life a living hell. Not when they were together, though, as backward as that seemed. When he was with Sean, all else suddenly didn’t matter. Like the rational side of his brain just peaced-out. Affecting his judgment, like he was intoxicated or something. Under the influence of drugs.