Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78163 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78163 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh,” I repeated derisively. “I sat in the back seat of his crappy Chevy, staring out the dirty window and tried to believe in his alternate reality for a few minutes. I thought maybe I could pretend we were a regular family…a dad, a mom, and two boys who shared the same skin color and spoke two languages. It was a nice fantasy, but something wasn’t right. At eight, I couldn’t quite put my feelings into words. I just knew the whole thing was a setup. I was a prop. My dad was using me to piss off my mom and woo a pretty girl with a single-dad sob story. It made me miss my real brother, the blond kid with blue eyes back home in Long Beach.
“That was the first time I remember being aware of the lies so-called grownups tell each other. The fake smiles, pretty words, empty promises. As a species, humans are hypocritical assholes. We give away pieces of ourselves every day…for recognition, for money, for affection.” Justin turned to me with a fiery expression and gestured toward the glittering lights below. “Everyone here wants more than what they have. And I guess I’m the same. I don’t need recognition and I sure as fuck don’t want love, but I wouldn’t say no to a few bucks,” he commented with a laugh. “What about you?”
I did a double take. I was two steps behind, struggling to keep up and if possible, memorize every word he’d said. I hadn’t been around anyone so raw or so honest in a long time. Justin made rules and broke them at whim, letting me in and then shutting me out. He had a way of revealing himself that made me feel as though he was holding a mirror to me, daring me to acknowledge my broken pieces too. He was either slightly insane or incredibly gifted. I suspected it was the latter. The cadence of his speech lured me in…and made me want more. I’d tell him anything he wanted to know, just to be near him and this intense spark of…newness, creativity, and wonder.
“What about me?” I asked in a low, raspy voice.
“What do you want?”
“Nothing.”
“Liar,” he said without heat. “Try again.”
“Okay. I want everything that you just said was bullshit. Romance, love, a little recognition and…I want to write the perfect song,” I replied.
“There’s no such thing.”
“Maybe, maybe not. But it would be nice to leave something that felt special.”
Justin held my gaze, then inclined his head in agreement. “Yeah. I want that too.”
We stared at each other as whispers of conversation floated from the far corners of the rooftop deck. We weren’t alone, but we might as well be. I couldn’t remember ever feeling intimately connected to someone I’d never really touched. It was puzzling and enchanting at the same time.
He shivered when the breeze kicked up. I took it as a sign from above and pulled him against me. I had to touch him. I studied the sexy indentation in his bottom lip before giving in to impulse and resting my hands on his hips. He gave me a funny look but didn’t push me away.
“You shouldn’t be anonymous. You have too much to share. Too much to say.”
“I do. I don’t know if it’s all wise or good, but I have a firestorm in my head some days, and I can’t get the words out fast enough.”
“There’s no hurry. Remind yourself to take it slow. The real music is in between the notes and the words,” I said.
Justin snaked his arms around my waist and stared out at the city lights below.
We were still for a while. The lingering quiet was deceptive. A casual observer might have mistaken us for old lovers engaged in a tender moment. Or maybe they’d guess we were tentative strangers anxious to make the right moves. Not too fast, not too slow. Neither was correct; there was no quiet here. An electric current sizzled and hissed between us. Intense sexual awareness and something more. Something fiery and passionate that had nothing to do with pretty words or music. He was wild and rough with jagged edges and a sharp mind. And he was so close now, I could feel his breath on my lips when he turned to face me.
“I want to kiss you,” I whispered, inching closer so our noses brushed.
Justin gave me a crooked smile and tugged at my belt loop. “Then do it.”
I stuck my tongue out and licked his bottom lip from one corner of his mouth to the other, then gently pressed my lips to his. He was deceptively tender at first. He closed his eyes and hummed into the connection. When I tilted my head, he let me in without hesitation. I couldn’t get enough. He tasted like gin and nicotine with a hint of peppermint. I pulled him against me, cupping the back of his neck, to kiss him harder and deeper. Our tongues twisted in a growing frenzy until everything and everyone around us dissolved into white noise. Justin lulled me into complacency and let me think I was in control. But when the unexpected sweetness threatened to pull me in, he held my face between his hands and drove his tongue into my mouth.