Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
But if it was such a good thing, why were his sinuses burning? Why was the thought of someone else getting to see what Dylan’s face looked like in the morning, getting to hear how he panted and sighed and squished his eyes closed as he came, someone else getting to experience all that enough to have Apollo digging his fingers into his thigh?
Because you love him.
No, he refused to believe that. Couldn’t let it be true. Because if it hurt this much, watching him drive away with another man, how would it feel to lose him for good?
Like this. Because you are losing him. One way or another, he’s gone. Only difference is whether he’s yours in the in-between time.
God, it was an intensely morbid way to think about Dylan’s future, but it was true. Dylan was going to spend his time with someone—the guy was far too social to not. Someday, someway, his time on earth would end, regardless of how Apollo or anyone else railed at the universe. Apollo knew better than anyone that death couldn’t be outrun. And the only real question was whether Apollo was brave enough to be that someone who Dylan spent the in-between time with.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Is that really the last of your stuff?” Isaiah asked as he set down a box containing Dylan’s sewing machine and supplies on the bed.
“Yeah. I travel light,” Dylan said. He’d been staying on Allie’s couch for over a week now, and was looking forward to a real bed that night, even if the permanence of this move unsettled him a bit. He was really doing this, really committing to San Diego for the next year. His stomach gave an unhappy twinge, reminding him that all he’d had for breakfast was nerves and a protein bar. “My mom will be shipping more of my clothes and stuff, but it’s not like I’m going to need the heavy winter rain gear here.”
“Well, you should feel free to make this space your own. Art on the walls or something. I can take you to Windmill Thrift—they always have good art and home stuff.” Isaiah was nothing if not helpful, trying to introduce Dylan to his new neighborhood and being his self-appointed San Diego tour guide.
“Oh, that reminds me, I have something for the walls.” Dylan dug in a carton on the floor, pulling out the large drawings the girls had done for him. Glitter rained down on the beige carpeting as he hung the pictures above the bed, but the brightly colored scribbles did make the room instantly feel more homey. And made him miss the girls that much more. He missed reading them stories and listening to them play and eating dinner...
Stop. He couldn’t keep dwelling on what he was leaving behind. The summer had been bound to end one way or another. He was never meant to be more than a good family friend to them, and longing for more was pointless. And God knew he was doing enough pointless longing where their father was concerned. He didn’t need to get all sappy about the girls too. Right now, they were at the festival in Fresno with Apollo and his mother.
He’d texted Apollo to have a safe trip, and Apollo had replied that he’d send him pictures next week of the girls’ first day of kindergarten. It was all very civil and friendly—exactly what he’d promised Apollo. He wasn’t storming out of their lives, but it all felt like getting a hollow Easter bunny after getting a taste of Godiva truffles, a shadow of what he hoped for.
“They look great.” Isaiah looked around the spartan room. It was barely wide enough for the full bed and desk that the previous occupant had left behind. “You sure you didn’t want the bigger room?”
“Nah, man, get the higher rent from Tony for that one.”
Isaiah had split the apartment with two other graduate students, but when both left to take post-docs out of state, he’d been left in the lurch with a high rent and no roommates. But Isaiah was a superior networker—picking up Dylan through their encounter at Ben’s and this guy Tony from an ad at his school.
“Yeah, but this one’s closer to mine.” Isaiah gave him a wink. “And maybe I want Tony to have to pass by my door on the way to the shower...”
“You’re an awful horndog.” Dylan laughed and tossed a pillow at him. “The guy’s not even moved in yet and you’re already making moves. And besides, I thought you were still all hung up on Ben?”
“Eh.” Isaiah shrugged and threw the pillow back. “He’s nice enough and fucks like a dream, but it’s clearly never going to happen, so I might as well move on, you know?”
“Yeah,” Dylan said weakly. Move on. Something he knew he’d need to do eventually, and yet, still was resisting the fuck out of. And seeing Isaiah flit from crush to crush should inspire him to let go of his obsession with Apollo, but it actually had the opposite effect.