Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 71212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
That got a collective laugh out of the group. The smile pulled up at my lips, feeling almost foreign after setting them in a frown for so long. It was refreshing to see a group of friends gathered around and shooting the shit. I’d been missing that in my life lately. All of my close friends were scattered across the globe, working different jobs or settling down with different people. A couple of texts every few months to reassure us that the other was alive was all I got. I never had a home base where I could plant me and my chosen family down, but Tristan clearly did, and that made me happy for him.
It was also good to see him smiling so much. I’d been here for a few weeks now, and his smile—as beautiful as it was—had felt very elusive. And I didn’t blame him. He must have had a mountain of crap on his mind, so I never expected him to walk around with a fake smile plastered on his face.
Still, seeing the real thing was nice. I decided I wanted to see it more often from here on out.
“Thanks,” Steven said, “I’m connected.”
“Do you have to keep up with your Grindr dates? Don’t want the nudes taking up your data?” Noah teased.
Steven’s cheeks didn’t change color but the way he shrunk back into his seat said he had some shyness to him. “I might be deleting that app soon.”
“Oh, found someone worth deleting it for?” Jake asked.
“Possibly. But I don’t like to jinx things.” He looked down at his lap, tapping his nails against the cracked plastic blue of his phone case.
“Well invite them next time,” Tristan said as he took his seat. I was leaning against the far wall with a clear view of the front door, but I was having a difficult time taking my gaze off Tristan. He had on a pair of khaki shorts that bunched up as he sat down, his smooth, muscular thighs on full display. He was barefoot, with the soles of his feet aimed at me as he crossed them at the ankle. They were at least a size eleven, which made me wonder what else he was above average with in terms of size?
“Alright,” he continued off Steven’s silent nod, “I think we can start wrapping up tonight’s book club there. Let’s see if Tia’s guess about Kenneth being the killer is right or that his shame has something to do with his donkey dick.”
More laughter spread through the room. Everyone seemed to be having a great time, regardless of the threat that Tristan was under. He needed this. They all did.
Well, maybe not all of them. Evan Wilson didn’t seem to be having much fun at all. He had his arms crossed against his chest and his gaze turned down toward his feet. Yvette appeared to be trying in vain to get him to participate, whispering something in his ear and rubbing his back. Nothing seemed to be pulling Evan out of his shell.
He stood up abruptly and went down the hall to the bathroom. Yvette mouthed out, “Sorry,” to the group. Tristan put up the music a little louder and leaned forward.
“Is everything okay?” he asked, clearly having picked up on Evan’s mood.
“Yeah, I just think he has anxiety around big groups. He warned me about it, but I didn’t realize he’d shut down like that.”
“That’s okay,” Tristan said. “As long as you like him, then we like him.”
Yvette smiled and appeared to be on the cusp of saying something else but quickly stopped herself as Evan came back into the room. Everyone acted as though nothing weird had just occurred, with Noah and Jake standing up first to collect the trash, Eric joining them while Colton got into a heated debate with Jess, Tia, and Steven over the perfect pizza toppings.
I figured another lap around the property likely wouldn’t hurt. It was a quiet neighborhood with plenty of outdoor lighting and well-manicured open spaces, meaning there weren’t a lot of places to hide. Still, it was part of my job duty, and I wasn’t about to let anything slide on this one.
Just as I reached the front door, the music abruptly cut off, and the television clicked on with a cheery chime. I paused, looking for who had the remote but seeing everyone else just as confused. Tristan went over to the coffee table and picked up the remote, clicking it, and nothing happened. He cocked his head.
“Huh, must be a glitch or something,” he said.
The screen flickered and filled with camera footage filmed sometime in the middle of the night. I, along with everyone else in the room, immediately recognized the scene that filled the screen.
“That’s my front lawn,” Tristan said, confirming it for anyone who might not have guessed. “It’s my Ring camera, but I never connected it to my TV like this?”