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)
“Also makes my job watching you that much easier.” I figure I might as well put it out there, since he must be thinking it.
“You are a strange one, Zane.” The way he says it, with that smile across his face, I can tell he fucking loves it.
After we finish our salads, I offer to get my own plate, but he insists, so I let him serve me again. His meatballs are as good as everything else he’s made me so far, and I practically lap up the meal like I did his cum. And when we’re finished with dinner, he pulls out a tiramisu from the fridge. Not even that hungry after everything we’ve eaten, but I don’t want him to think for a second that I don’t appreciate this, so I don’t leave a trace of it on my plate.
“That was all…incredible,” I tell him, licking my spoon.
“Thank you. Was the tiramisu over the top? I considered something simple, like cookies.”
“You already know I love your cookies, but this tiramisu was pretty spectacular.”
“I love a compliment, so thank you.”
“Is that a way of fishing for more compliments about your glorious hole?”
“I mean, it wasn’t, but I’ll accept that too.”
I laugh. “This has been nice.”
“To get a break from watching me for a change?”
“Maybe finding a new way to watch you.”
But there’s something else on my mind, a burning question I can’t shake. “Speaking of watching you, you haven’t posted on social media in a while. Used to put a lot up about the culinary program you were in, and on Insta you’d have the dishes up. You were clearly very proud.”
“Yeah…”
“Did that stop after things started going downhill?”
He nods.
For the first time since we messed around, his expression turns serious. And just like that, I sucked all the fun out of the room. It wasn’t my intention, but I want to know him…really know him, the good and the bad.
“Yeah. That was before…” He hesitates. “The psych unit.”
“But you still love cooking. Obviously.”
“Yeah. Even when I was at Georgia State, I was making stuff. I’d get through with classes and then I’d hit the gym, then the grocery store, and head back to the dorms to get to work. I shared a dorm apartment with three guys, and they had plenty of friends. They’d chip in to cover the food, and it kept me busy, but I was happy doing that. Then…it got rough, and before I knew it, I was struggling to get out of bed. Nothing felt exciting anymore, especially not that. Really hard to know that the one thing I could always count on just…felt empty.”
It reminds me of our conversation about our mental health, about those moments when our minds turned on themselves. Knowing what a struggle it was, I hate that anyone else had to go through shit like that too.
“I’m glad to see it’s not that way anymore.”
“Me too. I used to be a lot more active, and not only with that either. I’d go out to parties with friends. I was in a few clubs. Then I came home after the mental-health facility, and I was in such a fog. I remember going to the library and looking at book covers just to do something…anything.”
There’s a rush of adrenaline, my body alerting me I need to probe. “Which library?”
“Chelsby Hill, over near Hamlet Mill.”
“Really?” It’s the first connection I’ve made to Mike since Leif and I started chatting.
Could be nothing. It’s a small city. There were likely plenty of places Mike and Leif could have frequented, and I wouldn’t know it. No need to make a big deal.
But now that he’d said it, my gut instinct can’t disregard it, even if the connection was only in my head. I don’t bring it up to Leif, though. No need to freak him out over what’s probably nothing.
I quiet that voice inside me, fearing it’s the same one that wanted me to hound Mike’s poor teacher.
Although, a creeping fear tells me it isn’t.
And that I have work to do.
11
LEIF
I pace around the house in my sweatpants and socks.
Last night was fucking everything!
I’m still reeling from the high of having Zane’s fingers in me, working my body like I was his fucking sex puppet. There’s no way he can realize what he did to me by showing me that. And being so patient. So considerate. Dedicated to ensuring it was a mind-blowing orgasm.
I can’t believe he was the guy to introduce me to that part of myself.
Even as we shared dinner after, all I wanted was for him to show me what else he could do with his hands. His mouth. Even that cock.
Imagining the things he’d do to me has got me leaking in my sweatpants.
I pull my phone out of my back pocket for what must be the dozenth time since I woke up, reading his last text from the night before.