Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“I don’t want fancy,” Liam said with a shrug. “I just want you.”
Well, shit. Tate swallowed a lump of emotion he’d never tell anyone about. Why did that simple statement make him feel as though someone flipped him inside out?
CHAPTER TEN
ANTICIPATION ZINGED THROUGH Liam as he settled into the passenger seat of Tate’s beat-up old car. If someone offered him a million dollars, he couldn’t name the type of car, but he had a feeling it wasn’t made in the last decade, maybe a decade and a half.
Not that he cared. Hell, Liam hadn’t even owned a car until a month ago when he purchased a used Ford Explorer. Cars didn’t impress him. Living in New York City, he barely knew anyone who owned a motor vehicle. What did impress him was a man showing up for a surprise date, so obviously out of his comfort zone, just to be with him.
Swoon.
His heart wouldn’t stand a chance if Tate did things like this often.
Had he admitted too much a moment ago when he said he wanted Tate? Hopefully not. Tate had to want him, too, right? Why go through all this trouble otherwise? And knowing what he knew about Tate, it had been trouble. The kind of mental trouble that involved overthinking and second-guessing himself.
“So,” Liam said as he turned to face the sexy man he’d jerked off to that morning. And the night before. Possibly twice. Tate looked good behind his car’s steering wheel, comfortable in his command and control of the vehicle. His jeans were a familiar pair he wore often, but the short-sleeved blue Henley he hadn’t seen. The fabric hugged Tate’s muscles in a way that had Liam fighting an erection the moment he climbed in the car. “Tell me something about yourself.”
Tate cast him a quick side-eye before focusing back on the road. “Like what?”
Cornfields stretched on as far as the eye could see. They were heading south and west in a direction Liam had yet to explore. Still, it was funny how quickly he’d acclimated to seeing the flat farmlands out his window as he traveled.
“Like… what’s your favorite movie?” They could start with something light and easy to keep Tate from getting spooked.
“My favorite movie, huh?” He sat with one arm outstretched, gripping the top of the steering wheel and the other propped against the closed window. The car’s air conditioning chugged along, doing a fair to poor job of cooling the inside, but if they opened the windows, it’d be hard to talk, and Liam wanted to hear everything Tate had to say. The man fascinated him. He was a mess of contradictions, thanks to being surrounded by narrow-minded assholes.
Liam had a feeling there was so much more to Tate than met the eye. Even in the short time they’d known each other, Tate changed around him. He let his guard down a smidge, but Liam was selfish enough to want the whole package. He wanted Tate to trust him enough to be himself if the poor guy even knew who that was.
“Fight Club.”
Liam smiled. “Oh, interesting. You like a movie with a little bit of a mind fuck, huh?”
That drew a laugh out of Tate. “I do. Always have. Momento, Requiem for a Dream, those kinds of movies have always done it for me. Psychological thrillers and dark comedies are my two favorite genres.”
Interesting. Liam soaked up the information. “You know, I can see it.”
“I love Chuck Palahniuk. I read Fight Club after watching it, then read everything else he wrote.” Tate shrugged and glanced at Liam, who could barely contain himself in his seat. “What?”
“You’re a reader?”
The switch flipped, and Tate went from open to closed-off in the blink of an eye. “What? No, I mean—”
“Okay, let’s get one thing straight… or not straight since it’s us.” Liam chuckled as Tate rolled his eyes. He turned in the seat, tucking his legs under him so he could fully face his driver. “This is serious, so listen. I’m not going to judge you.”
Tate’s eyes narrowed.
“I’ll say it again. I am not going to judge you. When we’re together, like this, just the two of us, you’re free.” He waffled his hand back and forth between them. “Understand, Tate?”
He watched as Tate’s grip on the faded steering wheel tightened. Maybe it was stupid to push the man as tense as he’d become, but this was vital to their relationship.
And to Tate’s self-acceptance.
Liam continued, “No matter what you tell me about who you are and what you like, I will not judge you. And if you’ve been hiding so long you don’t know who you are yet, I am a safe place for you to explore that. So, tell me you like to read, tell me you like to make fucking aroma therapy soaps in your trailer, and I will do nothing but ask you to tell me more because I really like every single thing I learn about you.”