Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 540(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 540(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
Trent clamped his lunch pail shut and gave Wood his full attention. Damn, why’d he have to get lost anytime he stared into those cinnamon-colored eyes that always held a sparkle of mischief. “Why? You like it?”
“It sounded nice, older,” Wood acknowledged.
“Then you should’ve recognized it.” Trent laughed loudly, and even though Wood was the butt of the joke, he found himself caught up in the humor.
Wood walked in close to Trent until he had to tilt his head back to hold his gaze. Trent’s smile fell slowly when he noticed their closeness. “You really think I’m that old?” Wood asked.
Trent blinked as if he was suddenly at a loss for words before his eyes dropped to Wood’s mouth. He purposely licked his lips, and Trent tried to ease away, but Wood had him pinned between him and the counter.
“Answer me,” Wood demanded.
“I was listening to Coltrane last night,” Trent said breathily. “Live at the Village Vanguard.”
“Yeah… I liked it,” Wood whispered. “Now. Answer my other question.”
“I-I think…” Trent stuttered.
“Damn you smell good.” Wood couldn’t help himself. He dipped his head and ran his nose along Trent’s temple, inhaling the vanilla-scented shampoo he used. He was close to losing it when Trent tilted his head to the side, giving him more room to explore his throat. Wood gripped the edge of the counter to stop himself from grabbing Trent and hefting him on top of the dining table and rutting against him, when he heard his quiet moan.
“You…”
“You what?” Wood urged.
“I was gonna say that… you smell good too.”
Wood smiled and grazed the tip of his finger along the collar of Trent’s thick sweater as a faint blush worked its way up his neck and onto his cheeks. God, what am I doing?
“I better get to work. Summer will kick my ass if I’m late,” Trent managed.
“You got plans tonight?” Wood didn’t want to let his roommate go until he had something to look forward to later.
“No. I never have any plans.”
Wood ignored how sad that statement sounded and decided he’d do something to rectify that soon. “I’m gonna cook tonight. I want you to eat with me, and no going to hide in your room after.”
“I haven’t been hiding.” For the first time, Trent’s grin was shy and sweet. “What are we having?”
Wood was so tempted to take those few inches of space between their lips and taste what he’d been fantasizing about for days, but he maintained his cool. “Spaghetti.”
Trent nodded. “’Kay.”
Wood eventually moved back, and Trent slowly made his way to the door. Wood followed behind him like a dog not wanting his favorite person in the world to leave for the day.
Trent shouldered his bag and gave Wood one last goodbye.
“I’ll see you later,” Wood said, holding the door. “Dinner.”
Trent walked backward down the driveway, watching Wood. “The fire extinguisher is under the sink if you need it.”
Wood laughed before he closed the door, then went to the window to watch until Trent’s truck disappeared around the corner. He checked his watch. T-minus nine hours and counting… then he had a date. Sort of. He knew better than to play with fire, especially with someone as hot as Trent, knowing he was going to get burned.
Chapter Fourteen
Trent
“Hey, Trent! Hold on!” Summer yelled behind him. He opened the door of his old beater and tossed his gear inside. “What’s the hurry? You’re usually one of the last to leave.” She leaned against his bumper and watched as the other guys filed out of the parking lot.
“No hurry. Just ready to go home,” Trent answered. All day he’d been thinking about what’d be waiting for him when he got there. A pretty laid-back guy and a home-cooked meal. Then he wondered if this was how Bishop felt every day when he got off work.
“Lakeisha has a forty-eight-hour shift again, so you wanna come over and play some Call of Duty, order a pizza or something?”
Trent walked over and kissed her on the forehead. “No, thanks. I already have dinner plans.”
Summer sat up, her blues eyes widening as if he’d said he had plans to go skydiving. “Sounds so formal. Dinner plans with who?”
Trent couldn’t stop the smile curving his lips no matter how hard he tried.
“Oh my gosh, look at those dimples,” Summer sang. “Let me take a wild guess with who since you have dinner plans… at home.”
“Summer,” Trent warned.
“What? I think this is great!”
“It’s not formal at all. It’s his turn to cook for a change. Nothing more.” Trent tried to downplay tonight, but he knew it wasn’t how he felt at all. Wood had touched him in more than a friendly way and asked him to have dinner with him.
“A man that can cook.” She rubbed her hands in front of her, giving him a knowing expression.