Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 82480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
I rubbed a hand over my face and groaned. I was so screwed. Milo wouldn’t know what to think about them, and I could understand why. Half the time, I couldn’t decide what I thought about them either. “Fuck my life.” They barked out a laugh as though they were hilarious. “You guys can’t be like this when you meet him.”
“Like what? I’m just me,” Kris replied. “Isn’t that what you said about him?”
“Milo can be just him because I like him. I don’t like you.”
“Gasp!”
“I think you might love Milo,” Orlando joked.
“I think I might leave.”
Orlando clapped a hand on my shoulder. “You know we’re giving you shit, right?”
“Yeah.” We’d always been like this with each other. I didn’t expect them to stop now. That didn’t mean it wasn’t annoying.
“I get to be your best man, right?” Orlando added, and I couldn’t help dissolving into laughter with them. They were idiots, but I loved them.
“Seriously, though…don’t just randomly stop by my apartment or the bookstore to meet him.”
“Cross my heart and hope to die,” Orlando replied.
“Hardcore,” Kris added.
Luckily, Patsy saved us by coming over with three plates in her arms. We ate and did our normal catching up. Mom and Dad were on a trip—they did a lot of traveling since retiring—and would be home soon. I wondered what they would think when they met Milo, which I had no reason to do. For all I knew, they wouldn’t meet. When we saw each other, it was usually at their house instead of them stopping by my apartment.
We rotated which one of us paid, and it was my turn, so I took care of it before heading back to the shop. I tried to open the door at the bookstore, but it was locked. When I peeked inside, I didn’t see Milo.
I had a butterfly tattoo on a nineteen-year-old woman and a tribal piece on a guy’s bicep that afternoon. I kept finding myself looking toward the window, as if I would magically know if Milo was back next door. It doesn’t matter…why does it matter? Maybe he broke me because I was being weird.
I finished a little after five and didn’t stick around like I normally did. Walk-ins were pretty common, and I needed the cash, but I also wanted to see him.
I headed straight to the bookstore, and this time when I tried the door, it was unlocked.
I pushed it open just slightly and took a step inside. “Milo? You here?”
There was a clattering sound from behind the counter where the register was, and then his hair appeared, followed by his face peeking over. “Yes,” he replied.
I frowned, walking over. “Is everything okay?” There wasn’t a chair there, so he’d been sitting on the floor.
He looked at me as if I’d suddenly grown a second head. “Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”
“I don’t know. You’re just sitting on the floor, behind the counter.”
“Oh. I’m fine. I don’t always like chairs, and sometimes I like smaller spaces, so I was hanging out here.”
Okay, well, whatever floated his boat. “What ya doing?”
“First I was reading some of Alice in Wonderland. Rachel said I should. Then I drew this.” He handed me a notebook. There was a sketch of the inside of the bookstore: where the café would be, seating areas, how he wanted to organize the shelves, everything neatly and perfectly labeled.
“Holy shit. Done many plans for remodels?” I couldn’t have come up with this idea so quickly. I was decent at drawing, I needed to be for my job, but this was fantastic.
He frowned. “No. Why?”
I chuckled. “It’s just really good.”
“Oh, well, I can draw okay. I’m not the best, and I don’t really like it or anything. I did take some design courses for fun, and I’ve done quite a bit of building—entry-level stuff. I’m good at learning quickly, and I used to watch a lot of YouTube videos. I want to be able to do whatever I need to do, ya know?”
I couldn’t help looking at him, trying to find the words I needed, but they wouldn’t come to me. He was just…so fucking cool. I didn’t know how else to explain him.
“You’re doing that weird smiling at me again,” he added.
“Sorry.”
His brows pulled together. “Don’t be. It’s a nice smile.”
“I thought it was weird?”
“That too, but it also turns me on, and I don’t know if that’s a good thing since we’re friends and roommates.”
Welp, my dick took notice of that, blood heading for my groin. Not enough to get me all the way there, but I was sporting a little bit of a chub over the idea of turning him on. “So basically, smile at you all the time. Noted.”
He rolled his eyes and stood. “You like to flirt with people.”
I shrugged. “I do. I didn’t get to do a lot of it growing up. I was in the closet until just before I left. I did a lot of flirting when I moved to Boston.”