Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Logan turned to me, cocking his head. “And you like that?”
I nodded once. “I do. It means that all the bonds I had with these guys weren’t just about the game, you know? I made lifelong friendships, and even though we aren’t going to be playing together anymore, the spirit of the team doesn’t have to die.”
“Of course not,” Logan said. “They’re like family to you.”
“Exactly,” I said. “But I didn’t fully realize that until I went through all of these memories. It makes me feel so much less shitty about the end of my football career.”
“You had an amazing experience that most people never have in their lives,” Logan said. “That kind of thing will stick with you forever.”
“It will,” I said.
He smiled softly. “I’m glad you love the notebook, Brody.”
When I looked out the window a moment later, I gasped. “Look.”
He turned to look out the window. “Snow!”
Tiny flakes were falling again, just as the last of the sun set behind the clouds. It was the first time it had snowed in earnest since the night when Logan and I had come home from the party together.
It felt like so long ago. A time when Logan and I still felt like we had to keep everything secret. A time when I still wasn’t admitting that what I wanted, deep down, so badly was… this.
A real relationship.
Logan as my actual boyfriend, not just a strange “situation-ship” where we were roommates who sometimes secretly hooked up.
It still felt surreal, sometimes.
But as the snow fell outside, I knew there was nowhere else I’d rather be than here inside with him, cozy and perpetually turned-on for this New Year’s Eve. Logan surprised me every damn day, and today was no exception.
An hour later, dinner was served. Logan lit some candles in the middle of the table and we ate a delicious feast of steak, salad, mashed potatoes, and fresh bread with salted butter. Logan mostly behaved himself as we ate dinner, not copping any feels under the table.
But as he put the finishing touches on dessert, I already felt myself getting turned on again.
He sprinkled raw sugar over the pastries he was making, then walked over to me, putting his fingers in my mouth for me to lick the excess sugar off. I happily obliged, hard again as he walked back over to the oven, popping the pastries in. He acted all sweet and innocent as they baked for the next ten minutes, as if he didn’t know he’d just gotten me super hard again.
When he pulled them out the whole house smelled like sweet apples and cinnamon. After cooling a bit, he put them on a plate and brought them to the table.
“Sugar-dusted puff pastry with cinnamon apples inside,” he said. “Kinda like apple pie, but even a little flakier.”
“God, these look incredible,” I said. And a minute later, as I ate one, I was pretty sure I was going to die and go to heaven happy tonight.
“They were super easy to make,” Logan said.
“How the hell are you so good at cooking and so damn smart?”
“I’ve never really cooked before,” he said. “Nothing that good, anyway. I just wanted to make something special for you.”
“Well, you succeeded,” I murmured, reaching for a second apple pastry immediately.
“That makes me very happy.”
As I finished the second one, I watched Logan take off his apron, hang it up, then get on all fours and crawl under the kitchen table. Suddenly he was there between my legs, and he kissed my cock through the soft fabric of my sweatpants, running his cheek along my erection.
“So,” he said softly, palming my cock as he spoke, “you wanted to discuss some history topics, right? Get a head start on things? Maybe we should do that now.”
I pulled in a deep breath. “Yeah? You think now is when I want to discuss history, huh?”
He tugged down on my sweatpants and I helped him, pushing down the waistband. My cock bobbed free and he stroked it gently with his fingertips, still toying with me.
“I will tell you the history of this week I spent without you,” he murmured, kissing the tip of my dick. “Every single night, I jerked off thinking about you. I missed this. I missed the way you smell, the way you feel. Missed having you come right in my mouth.”
I groaned as he took my cock deep into his mouth, all the way to his throat, finally giving me relief after an entire afternoon and evening of edging me practically at all times.
“God, you are good at that,” I said, my words coming out broken.
He hummed around me, worshiping my cock.
Finally, he was giving in. It was clear he’d been wanting this just as much as I had, no matter how much he’d relished edging me all day.