Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
My heart skips a beat when he squeezes my hand. Am I this touch deprived? I really don’t want to let go of his fingers, but the prerogative to not be weird wins out.
I make sure not to stare too much, but I clock the little things about him. The nice leather belt, the five o’clock shadow, how thick and nicely styled his hair is, and now that he’s been standing here for a moment, I get a whiff of his cologne. The scent of lemongrass and something a bit musky. Expensive. Fresh.
I curl my toes in my boots when my mind tries to push my thoughts into territory they shouldn’t enter about this perfectly polite man.
Now I wish I spent more time on my hair today. It’s a tangled nest compared to his. At least it’s clean.
“Rowan,” the man repeats, watching me with sparks in his eyes. Is it just me or is he standing closer than a man ought to another? “The handsome gay neighbor?”
I stare at him, a deer in the headlights, and I have no doubt my face is starting to resemble a tomato. “Oh God. I’m so sorry. I promise I didn’t set Mrs. Treville up to ask you about anything. She’s just trying to be helpful.”
Wait. Did he just call me handsome?
Saint laughs, and I can’t help but admire his lips and even teeth. “No, I could see that. And I admit, that was a bit of an awkward conversation, but here I am, meeting my first gay man in this new town, and I didn’t even need to go on Grindr.”
My shoulders sag a little in relief, and my heart might be fluttering a bit too much. I know I’m not ugly, but he’s probably just being friendly.
Or looking for a fuckbuddy.
Could I be his fuckbuddy?
Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t have any experience. If he offered, I’d probably end up being really shit at sex.
I smile back, daring to look into his eyes for a bit longer. God, they’re beautiful. “You will have to cast your net wide. Rural Vermont isn’t exactly a gay hotspot.”
Saint laughs again and cocks his head. “No, unfortunately. But I always valued quality over quantity anyway. Maybe it will be easier to actually meet someone around here. What do you think?”
“I…” Don’t know how to make friends, but a guy like you will surely figure it out in no time. “There’s a few bars people like. And it depends on how you spend your days. Did you move here for a job? Or…?”
“I’m writing a book, and I needed a change of pace, you know?” Saint shrugs and nods at the cane in my hand. “Do you need any help? I know the elevator’s stuck.”
I try not to fixate on the fact that he just casually dropped that he’s a writer on top of his whole city slicker aura. “No, I’m fine, I just… You’re not meeting me on my best day, sorry. I was kind of hoping someone would come to fix the elevator in the next twenty minutes or so. Then I could avoid the stairs and still make it to work on time.” Sure, go on, just tell him your whole life story while you’re at it. “I can walk down the stairs, but these are quite steep and—” I take a deep breath. “Long story short, I hurt myself falling down the stairs and my brain really hates to even see them now, but I can’t exactly make my way down without looking where I’m going.”
“Look at me then. You seem compact enough. I could carry you. You know, strength training,” Saint tells me, winking and flexes his bicep for my viewing pleasure as if he isn’t amazing enough already.
I take another look at his arms. He’s not a meathead, but yeah… tall, broad-shouldered, with thick arms.
I shake my head and laugh, because how is this interaction even happening to me? “You’re not serious.”
“You don’t know me yet. Care for a ride?” Saint asks, stepping closer, close enough for his scent to make my head spin.
Even my ears get hot. Yeah, I’d fucking ride him in more ways than one. I think.
“What do I have to lose, right? My other knee?” I laugh nervously, but as soon as he gets the green light, Saint doesn’t hesitate. He leans down, slides his arm behind my knees, and before I know it, I’m grabbing him around the neck.
When he offers me a proud smile, I know for sure that the stairs will be the last thing on my mind until he puts me down.
Saint weighs me in his arms, but his hands remain steady, and as he moves forward, taking me down the first step, our eyes meet. Fuck.
Yes. Yes, I do want to be his fuckbuddy, whatever that entails. The grassy scent he carries spins through my system as I float in his strong arms, hypnotized like a deer standing in the middle of the road as the truck of future heartbreak dashes straight at it.