Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 88402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
We found the menu. Darren got grilled chicken, roasted vegetables, and a sweet potato, and I got a bacon cheeseburger and fries, similar to our orders in Minnesota.
I left him alone while I took a quick shower and changed, the whole time wondering if he was thinking about me under the water spray, wondering what I looked like or felt like, the way I was with him.
Probably not, but a man could dream.
When I came out, he was lying on his stomach on the bed, staring at his phone. I was shirtless, in just a pair of pajama bottoms. He looked over at me and stared. I felt his hot gaze rake over me, making me tremble as I plucked a tee from my bag and pulled it on. “Forgot to take that in with me.”
Darren rolled onto his back, arms behind his head. “I wonder why it’s different with you…why I notice things about you…feel things and want things I never have.”
Never have. He didn’t even say with a man. I tried not to let myself read into that. It could have been a slip of the tongue. Because of course he had to open his mouth and say whatever was on his mind.
“Don’t sound so surprised. I’m quite the catch.”
He chuckled. “Are you now? Tell me why.”
I was playing with fire here, and as afraid as I was of getting burned, I couldn’t seem to hold back. “Why don’t you tell me.”
He cocked a brow. “We playin’ that game?”
“You started it.” I went over and sat on the bed.
“You make me laugh…sure, other people do too, but it’s different with you. I was thinking back earlier, about the first time I saw you. It was at that fundraiser where you spoke. I’d forgotten about it—that you had leukemia as a kid. You fought through that, and losing your parents, but you don’t let anything get you down. You keep going. And you donate a lot of money and time to causes…”
I did. My eyes darted away, and Darren continued. “Anson told me once, about the first time he met you. It was before he came out, and the moment you realized what was happening, you told him he was safe. You made him feel like he belonged, when the only place he’d truly felt that before was with West. I hate it sometimes, that I hadn’t made my best friend comfortable enough to know he could come to me.”
“Don’t take it personally, Darren. Being queer…it’s hard sometimes, putting yourself out there to non-queer people. No matter how much you love and trust them, part of you knows there’s a chance they could walk away from you. Even if you don’t think they will, even if they’re accepting, it’s letting someone else in on a part of you that’s so very much who you are, and that some people will hate you for it without knowing anything else about you.”
If anything ever happened between us, it was something Darren would have to consider too. And as if he knew what I was saying, he nodded.
“Even now, though, you’re ignoring what you did for Anson, worrying instead about me…how him not coming to me might have hurt me. You’re always thinking about others. It’s…refreshing.”
My stomach tumbled, and my cheeks heated. My chest felt warm too. This was…too much. I never should have started it. “Okay, that’s enough. We can stop now.”
“You toilet papered a house with me…you like cars like I do. You held in your separation, and ultimately the divorce, for six months because you didn’t want to put a damper on your best friend preparing to get married. You’re still close with your ex, even though he hurt you and couldn’t give you what you needed. You match my banter, and you like football, and when you say, Good night, Troublemaker, it twists me up in ways I didn’t know I’d ever want.”
My eyes stung, and I held a hand up, the ache and want in my chest too much to handle. “Please don’t. I can’t.” It was too much. He’d make me fall even deeper than I already had.
“Shit. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I asked.” I just hadn’t thought it would get to me like it did.
There was a knock at the door. Saved by dinner.
I took the food, keeping the bellman in the hallway rather than letting him in. After giving a hefty tip, I closed the door. “Do you want a drink with dinner—the alcoholic kind, I mean. I need a drink.”
Darren nodded. We raided the minibar, each pulling a few bottles out.
We wandered toward safe topics of conversation as we ate and drank at the table. When the food was finished, we plucked a couple more bottles out and ended up sitting on the bed together.