Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 94220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
He smirks, and for the first time in this whole fucked-up mess, his fair cheeks pinken.
God, he’s cute when he blushes.
Where the hell did that thought come from?
“I’m queer—gay,” he explains. “And you’re a very attractive guy, Leif…obviously, since that’s what I said.”
A pulse of excitement radiates through me. What is happening?
I’ve never been into guys. I’ve jerked off once or twice thinking about Timothée Chalamet, but that taste never translated into real life. And I imagine plenty of other straight guys have jerked off thinking about Chalamet.
But as Zane looks at me and tells me he finds me attractive, I’m…curious.
Maybe this is some kind of wild trauma response to how we first met that I’m mistaking for something else.
“Don’t worry, Leif. I know you’re straight. I’ve seen all the photos of your exes on Insta and Facebook, so I’m not creeping on you. And I can keep it professional when I’m watching you. Though sometimes that can be difficult, honestly. I mean, you’re pretty hot, and that ass…”
This eagerness in me pulses up once again, but he stops there.
Why does his mention of my ass make my cock shift in my pants?
“What do you like about my ass?” I press.
He stares at me, licks his lips. He hesitates before saying, “It’s firm. Notice it when you jog, how it jiggles. I imagine if I could…” He stops himself but licks his lips again. And I don’t know why my cock is so damn hard over that.
“Well, there it fucking is,” he adds. “Guess you really don’t want me being the one to watch you now.”
“I didn’t say that.”
His head jerks as he does a double take—maybe he’s as surprised by my response as I am. Or the way I can’t take my eyes off him.
His eyes narrow. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. As I said, you intrigue me, Zane.”
His lips curl into a smirk. “If after all that you aren’t telling me to fuck off, then I guess I’m not the only one who’s fucked up.”
“Isn’t that what we’ve been determining in this conversation? That we’re both a little fucked up?”
His smirk spreads into a smile, and damn, he’s got a gorgeous smile.
I don’t know what’s going on. I’ve been curious about the guy since I first met him…since he first made weird comments about me being attractive, but now that he’s laid everything out on the table, I’m starting to realize it’s not only this complicated shit that brought him here that interests me.
What the fuck are you doing to me, Zane Grayson?
8
ZANE
Silence stretches between us.
It was such an epic conversation—from him confessing that shit about his past and then me confessing my shit.
And then he said he was intrigued by me…
What does that mean?
The looks he gives me, the fact that he hasn’t freaked out… Some straight guys enjoy attention, even if it’s from a queer guy. I had a friend—Tau—who had one straight guy torture him for years. They did everything together, and the guy lapped up his attention, but he always had a girlfriend, never made a move. Just loved basking in my friend’s interest.
I don’t have too much time to consider it because our pizza’s ready. Leif pulls it out of the oven, and we let it cool a bit before enjoying slices.
“God, that’s good,” I say, reveling in the mix of the cheeses, spinach, and chicken. With my eyes closed, I fully embrace it, since these meals are a treat. “You’re spoiling me.”
“Watching you enjoy it makes it worth it.” As he says that, I notice him watching me eat before taking another healthy bite.
I gaze into his eyes, maybe longer than I should. But that’s become something of a bad habit.
There’s a question in my mind, a place I don’t want to let myself go to, but a vibrating sound catches my attention before Leif pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Ah, that’s my parents,” he says around a mouthful. “Probably calling to update me about Linda. Think I’m gonna head back.”
He sounds so cool, so unfazed by everything we’ve just discussed as he shoves the rest of his pizza in his mouth and hops up, starting for the door.
“Wait,” I say, and he stops and spins toward me. “You’re not gonna take some with you? I can’t eat all this.”
“I insist. You said you don’t cook much, and I have leftovers from lunch yesterday.”
But I don’t want him to stay just for pizza. I’ve enjoyed getting to know Leif beyond what I’ve learned from stalking him.
“Oh, before I go.” He approaches and hands me his phone.
Maybe since I’m in stalker mode, my first thought is, does he want me to put a tracker in it?
“Your number,” he says. “Put it in.”
I chuckle. “Oh. Right. That’s what normal people do.”
I input my number, then hand him his phone.