Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
I perched on the nearest stool. “Thanks, but I meant…me and you.”
“Me and you,” he repeated.
“I’m as strung up over you now as I was then. I know I don’t have the right to ask this, but I want a second chance.”
Nolan’s eyes softened as he smiled affectionately. “You mean you want to get naked with me.”
“That too.”
He chuckled. “Vin, be honest. We were childhood friends and each other’s first gay crush. It’s not me you want. You want someone safe to get your gay on with.”
“You are not safe. You’re still very fucking dangerous to me,” I whispered. “The difference is, I’m not going anywhere.”
“This summer,” he clarified.
“Well, yeah. The point is…I’m not gonna fight this feeling.”
“What feeling?”
He was killing me with the cross-examination, but hey, if I wanted to be honest, I had to lay it all out there. So…here goes nothing.
“I want to kiss you, I want to touch you, taste you. And I really wanna fuck you. If you’re…into that.”
Nolan’s eyes darkened with unchecked desire. “Yeah, I’m into that.”
I rubbed my thumb over his bottom lip. “We can take it slow. Or fast…or whatever. You call the shots. I’ll follow.”
“Okay, but…let’s keep it between us. I don’t feel like explaining this to anyone, and I don’t think we—”
I clapped my hand over his mouth. “Can it, Moore. Understood and agreed. No more talking.”
I swooped in to kiss him before he could reply. I knew all the ways this could go wrong. But I wasn’t the same person I was then. I didn’t feel trapped or scared now. I felt…free. I wanted the same thing I’d wanted years ago, but I understood what it meant—and what it didn’t mean.
Wanting Nolan wasn’t dirty or shameful.
It was just…complicated.
8
NOLAN
Don’t ask me how we got here. I had no idea.
This was the grown-up second edition of the last summer we’d spent together before Vin left for college. We’d been inseparable but usually within the safety net of a group of friends. We could sit next to each other, our skin glued by summer sun and sweat, while my brother and the rest of our gang yammered on around us, unaware of the sizzle of heat between us. The teenage version had been exhilarating and heartbreaking…something I’d promised to never subject myself to again.
But the adult version of us was righteously liberating. We’d had our talk, and we’d acknowledged mutual attraction and had given ourselves permission to act on it without assigning labels. The nature of the beast was sexual gratification, nothing more. We dove headfirst into quenching our thirst.
And yes, that was what it was…a raging, soul-consuming thirst. No joke. I’d had my share of lovers, but it had been a long time since I’d been this aware and in tune with another human.
The moment Vinnie walked into a room, my veins hummed, my synapses buzzed, and the air crackled with lust. It happened everywhere—the diner, the rink, Sunday night dinner at my mom’s. And shockingly, no one seemed to notice.
For those first few weeks, we existed in a bubble, going about our daily business. I’d open the diner early, balance the books from the previous night, sign off on the fresh veg or meat delivery, sort through the upcoming evening menu notes JC had left for me, and make myself useful by pouring coffee or folding napkins.
All standard stuff.
However, if anyone had been paying attention, they’d notice I was busiest at 8:58 a.m. I didn’t want to get caught checking my watch or gazing out the window for Vinnie.
He usually made a prompt appearance at nine o’clock on the dot, his hair damp from his post-jog shower. He’d acknowledge everyone who said hello with handshakes, waves, and warm smiles before making his way to his corner stool. We’d greet each other cordially, I’d deliver the order I’d placed for him, pour him a cup of joe, and engage in whatever conversation the counter crew had going. The Red Sox game last night, the mosquitos on Carlton Creek, Mandy and Jack Robinson expecting baby number four…
By ten, I’d be ready to roll and leave the diner in the capable hands of the manager. Vinnie would time his departure without fanfare or discussion. He’d never ask what my plans were, and I’d never ask if he wanted me to come over. I’d just showed up.
Within a minute of him pulling me over the threshold and locking his front door, we’d be half-undressed with our lips fused, humping and grinding, bumping into walls and furniture on our way upstairs—or on his sofa if we couldn’t wait. Hand jobs, blowjobs, naked kissing, groping, and swaying into each other until we were sweaty and spent.
I’d been so afraid we’d revert to something clumsy in the aftermath—too polite and unsure of our footing in this new alliance we’d formed. I should have known better. Vinnie didn’t let uncomfortable silences gather for long—at least not while we were in the same town. And he was the type of person who threw himself headfirst into any new situation or challenge.