Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 27032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Day returned the tight hug.
After they pulled apart, Day nodded toward God.
“Pres, this is God.”
Prescott nodded, staring wearily as God continued to scowl.
“You remember me mentioning my partner.”
“I do.” Prescott extended his hand. “I’ve only heard good things, incredible things. It’s nice to finally meet you, man.”
God took Prescott’s hand. He must’ve gripped and squeezed it unnecessarily hard because Prescott grunted when he yanked his hand away.
Prescott was ten times more striking than when Day had last seen him. He stood tall in a tailored black suit and matching wool overcoat. He was the epitome of elegance, charm, and sophistication.
Day had been so worried about God’s reaction to his date that he’d missed the large bouquet of flowers in Prescott’s other hand.
“Those for me?” Day smirked and said in a teasing tone, “Aww, you shouldn’t have.”
“Seriously, fuckin’ cheap-ass carnations.” God yanked the flowers out of Day’s hands, scoffing so hard it sounded as if he’d choked on a chicken bone. “Aren’t you rich?”
Day glared with his teeth clenched, but God didn’t seem to care as he continued to try to intimidate his friend.
Prescott raised his hands in surrender and inched a couple of steps back when it was obvious God wasn’t going to let him in.
“Well, I chose carnations because Leonidis and I took a vacation with some friends to Bogotá, Colombia.”
“The capital of the carnation,” Day said, unable to hide his smile.
“We somehow got separated from our crew and ended up lost in a carnation maze garden.”
“It took at least three hours.” Day laughed. “It was harder than getting out of an IKEA.”
God sucked his teeth.
Prescott smoothly eased a single carnation from the bunch, putting it to his nose and inhaling before passing it to Day.
“The exit was through a wall of dark red carnations—the color for love, passion, and fascination. I picked one and gave it to you. Do you remember, Leonidis?”
“I remember,” Day whispered, accepting the flower.
“You ready for a Michelin-star dinner? I’ve been waiting two years to cook for you.” Prescott motioned toward the sleek black town car idling at the curb. “My yacht is docked at the Dekalb Marina.”
God’s face fell as fast as his bravado. The defeat in his eyes tugged at Day’s heart, causing an unbearable ache in his chest.
“Yeah, I’m ready.”
God stared at him for a long time, his look seeming to beg Day to stay with him, to not leave him alone.
As he slid his hand into Prescott’s soft palm, God’s frown deepened. He yanked his coat off the hook and barreled past them.
Day watched his partner until he burned rubber out of the parking lot.
Prescott tilted his head. “He’s intense.”
Day sighed. “You have no idea.”
“I know that look, Leonidis.”
“What look?”
“The one you used to direct at me during our late-night study sessions.”
Day gave Prescott a soft smile. “Is it that obvious?”
“That you’re in a relationship of unrequited affection.” Prescott came inside and removed his coat. “Yeah, it is. Which means we’re obviously not going back to my yacht—that happens to have a Karpen Luxetop king-sized mattress covered in white satin rose petals, but hey.”
Day groaned, feeling as if his cock was pissed off at him for the egregious neglect. He removed his jacket and tossed it back over the coatrack. He was glad Prescott was letting him off the hook. He wanted the man badly, always had, but he wanted God more, despite whether his partner wanted him back.
“At least have a couple of drinks with me before you go to him.”
He and Day shared a gentle, chaste kiss, and then, over the next hour, he proceeded to tell his good friend what it was about God that drove him wild.
God
God gestured to the bartender to give him another shot. He was slouched in the same booth at the same bar as last Valentine’s Day, drowning his frustrations in shots of scotch and mugs of Anheuser-Busch.
The door to the bar opened, and a frigid gust of wind preceded his good friend.
He came.
God thought he had what it took to make Day stay with him, but then he saw Prescott Vaughan with his fancy clothes, smooth voice, and charismatic moves that had his partner blushing and eating out of the palm of his hand. God knew he was out of his league.
As Day made his way to the booth with no anger or judgment in his light hazel eyes, God couldn’t help but stare. Had his partner always looked like that? Had it taken seeing him interact with another man to notice? God had known Day hooked up the same as he did, but he’d never come face to face with it.
He didn’t like it…and couldn’t figure out why. He’d been hoping Johnnie Walker would help him make sense of it, but seven shots in, he was still clueless.
Day wore dark jeans and an ivory sweater under a chocolate-brown suede blazer. He cleaned up nicely. It was a drastic change from the blue polyester uniform.