Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 60487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Carl kept glancing at it as they ordered coffee and food; Grayson watched him with that probing gaze that had Carl squirming and refilling his water.
“You’re into horoscopes, right? You called me a Scorpio, there to stir stuff up?”
Carl fidgeted with a serviette in an effort to stop his fingers from snapping up the mag and checking it out. Only repeating Green Gruff in his head kept the urge at bay.
Grayson observed the shredded remains of the serviette and flipped open the magazine. “Let’s look. What’s your sign?”
Carl swallowed tightly. It was stupid to be so into this stuff. It wasn’t like it was really real. Maybe if he spent more time reading actual books, he’d have better life prospects.
Grayson took out his phone. “You’re twins. I’ll just look up Jason—”
“You’d get it wrong. He was born before midnight; I was born after. We straddle the cusp of Sagittarius and Capricorn.”
“Capricorn. Excellent.”
“Wait, did you trick me?”
“You’ll probably find it’s a Scorpio trait. Let’s see . . . ah, Capricorn—”
Carl plucked the magazine out of Grayson’s hands and flipped to Scorpio instead. “We’re both strong natured.”
Their coffees and food arrived, and Grayson picked at his, waiting for Carl to diagnose him. His eyes were on him with a focused concentration that made Carl’s skin prickle. One of the first sentences under Scorpio included “radiates intensity and crackles with charisma” and . . . check. But he’d leave that out—Grayson’s ego didn’t need that much stroking. It also said a Scorpio was hard to ignore, which . . . check again.
Smart. Check. Shrewd. Check. Will always save the day. Check.
“What’s it say about me, hm?”
Carl cleared his throat and read. “You don’t switch off from work. I’ve seen your calendar and this is painfully accurate. You’re a natural investigator. If there are secrets involved, so are you. Well, seeing you’ve peeled me of mine, this also is true. You’re ceaselessly curious with an intensively calculating gaze to match. Gosh, it’s like this was written with you in mind. Ah, here we go: Scorpio is most likely to form a cult.”
“How is that—”
“Groupies.”
“Go on.”
Carl ate around a smirk and glanced at the list of Scorpio turn-offs: dull, stupid people—
He shut the magazine and slapped it on the edge of the table. “This food is delicious.”
“So violently delicious?”
Carl prodded a fork in the air. “Stop looking at me like that.”
“I’m a natural investigator. Ceaselessly curious—” Grayson stopped upon analysing the possibly trajectory of the water in the glass Carl lifted. “Okay, I’ll drop it.”
Carl sipped. “You know what’s good for you.”
After eating in silence for a few moments, Carl asked, “Did I drop stuff on my shirt somewhere? Why do you keep frowning at it?”
“Is it safe to answer?” Grayson said, eying Carl’s water.
Carl folded his arms, and Grayson carried on, “You wore more flannel the first few times we met. Now you’re in these tight and even tighter clothes.”
“I’ve been trying to look more like Jason, so when he comes back others won’t be too surprised.”
“How comfortable are you in these clothes?”
Carl unfolded his arms and slouched in his chair. “They pinch a bit.”
“Flannel’s better, isn’t it? What’s most comfortable. What you actually want to be wearing.”
Carl stared at Grayson and narrowed his eyes. “Are you saying things underneath things?”
“And you claim you’re not clever.”
Carl picked up one of his crusts, stuffed it in Grayson’s mouth, and wagged a finger at him. “I promised I’d never stuff anything into your mouth again. But there’s something about you that makes me want to break my word.”
Grayson swallowed, gaze a sudden sparkle, and that sparkle mirrored itself low in Carl’s stomach. “You promised this would be a two-way street, remember? You give advice. I give advice.” He leaned in and said quietly, “Do you know that your eyes are scowling, but your lips are smiling?”
Carl couldn’t stop the sparkles, dammit, but at least he could slap a hand over his smile. The scowl disappeared too. He was miffed at Grayson telling him it was better to be himself, and at the same time chuffed at the veiled praise of being clever. Also he was . . . Anyway, he could hold multiple feelings at once. Even if they did rattle about in his chest.
He flushed and motioned Grayson to finish eating. “Let’s get moving.”
Carl sank into his plush chair with a relaxed sigh. Warm, bubbling scented water soaked their feet and gentle hands tended to each one, trimming and shaping and cutting away cuticles. His feet felt baby soft with all the moisturising, and he let out long, delighted moans. Grayson kept glancing at him, but other than asking for his toenails to be painted magenta, he didn’t speak.
Not until the pedicurists had left, telling them to wait at least five minutes before putting on their shoes.