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)
“Yeah, well…there’s a twist.” I inhaled deeply, opened my mouth, and…nothing happened. I tried again, same result.
Maybe the twist was that it was a lot easier to come out to an ex-fuck buddy than a best friend.
“What twist? You okay, man?”
“Yeah.” I cleared my throat and glanced toward the window. “I’m bisexual.”
“Okay…”
“And Nolan and I are—we’re…together.”
“That’s it?” he asked casually.
I furrowed my brow incredulously. “Yeah, it’s serious too. I mean…it’s new, but not new.”
“I know,” he drawled, rounding the desk.
“What do you mean, ‘you know’?”
“You two are the most obvious idiots I’ve ever met,” he gloated. “The goo-goo eyes, secret smiles—even Mary-Kate suspected you had the hots for her Uncle Nol.”
I opened and closed my mouth. Twice. “Really?”
Ronnie chuckled, his eyes crinkling merrily at the corners. “Really. The ex-girlfriend showing up was a little confusing, but that’s for you two to work out.”
“That’s all you have to say? You’re not upset or pissed off?”
“Why would I be?”
“He’s your brother and I’m your best friend, moron.”
He shrugged. “It’s pretty cool, if you ask me.”
“Okay, great, but when I come out…and I intend to—there might be reporters and photographers around. They might want to do stories about the rink and us, and maybe some of your clients won’t want their kids associated with—”
“That won’t happen here. On the off chance I’m wrong about that, fuck ’em,” Ronnie intercepted. “Stay, come out, let them write about us. I can guaran-damn-tee you, everyone in this town will have your back.”
My heart swelled in my chest, and tears pricked behind my eyes. “And I have yours. Always.”
Ronnie beamed. “Love you, man. Welcome home, Vin.”
I ignored his hand and pulled him against me for a monster bro hug.
Friendship was something I’d never taken lightly, but I hadn’t been great at showing the people who mattered most to me that I cared. I’d thrown money where I should have given time. I’d been lazy and self-involved, hiding behind my career to avoid emotional confrontations that might have forced me to reveal myself. But those days were over.
I was truly home now, and it was time to set things right.
Grand gestures were kind of my thing. Or so I’d always thought. If my dad mentioned something on his bucket list, I made sure it happened. Last minute tickets to Rome, flying first-class? No problem. If a friend wanted tickets to a game, boom! Best seats in the house, on me.
However, I wasn’t particularly good at initiating meaningful dialogue, which was kind of ironic since I’d graduated from college with a degree in communications. I tended to bluster my way through shit that needed to be said. But I didn’t want to do that with Nolan. I wanted to be cool, charming, and ideally, romantic too.
I thought about buying us tickets to Paris for the weekend, or maybe even just adding to his rock collection. Good ideas, but I was too “me” to pull them off.
So I barged into the diner instead.
“Nolan!”
The entire restaurant glanced up from their Sunday lunches, shouting greetings and congratulations for yesterday’s win my way. I inclined my head in acknowledgment and made a beeline to the counter where an octogenarian hockey fan sat in my regular spot, shootin’ the shit with JC.
“The hero, l’capitan,” JC singsonged. “What do you want to eat? The burger with a side of cyanide—”
“Thanks, but…later. Where’s Nolan?” I peered around JC, hoping for a glimpse into the kitchen. “Nolan! I saw his truck out front. He’s here, right? Nolan!”
I sensed every eyeball on me, wondering with barely concealed curiosity what had crawled up my ass on this gorgeous August afternoon. I ignored them all and bellowed Nolan’s name again.
JC’s faux-affable expression shifted to concern as he rounded the counter to deal with the upstart patron making a scene. “Enough. Go home and—”
“Vinnie? What are you doing?” Nolan appeared in the kitchen doorway, drying his hands on a red-and-white checked dish towel, his brow furrowed in concern and maybe irritation.
He’d never looked more beautiful to me.
“I need to talk to you. Now,” I said in a rush, dragging my hand through my bearded jaw.
Fuck, I was nervous. And no, it had nothing to do with the fact that every eye in the joint was now on me.
“Uh, okay. Give me a minute to—”
“I can’t wait a minute, Nol.”
“Why?”
“Why?” I repeated incredulously. “ ’Cause I have something to say.”
He set the dish towel on the counter and moved toward me, wrinkling his nose the way he always did when he was confused. It was so damn cute. He was cute. No, he was incredible and sweet and adorable and sexy and…he was looking at me as if he were sure I’d lost a marble or two.
“Okay. Um…we can talk outside if—”
“It’s important,” I blurted, louder than intended. “Life or death important.”
A new ripple of surprise filtered through the crowded restaurant. Shit. What was I doing? I hadn’t intended for this to be a spectator event. I licked my lips as I registered Nolan’s shocked expression.