Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 58090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
He holds his hands up, chuckling. “Cutting your finger? No. The thought of Hartford giving you a sponge bath? Yep.”
“At least I’d have someone to give me a sponge bath.”
Griffin shrugs as Brock wraps his arms around himself.
“I could get a sponge bath, but not from someone who I’m secretly in love with,” Griffin says, as he leans against the bar.
“I’m not secretly in love with her. We’re friends. Best friends. I don’t know how many times I need to clarify our situation to everyone.” I push past Griffin, done with the direction of this conversation.
“Pax, wait,” Griffin says, grabbing my arm so I don’t leave.
I spin around and raise an eyebrow. “What?”
“Your reaction to the teasing is why we do it. You know that, right?”
“My annoyed reaction to you guys thinking it’s unreasonable for a man and woman to have a relationship that doesn’t include sexual feelings? Just because we are always together and she’s the only person I trust with my deepest, darkest secrets, you think it can’t possibly be friendship? And the only reason I need her is because I want her?” I take a breath, shaking my head. “Yeah, Griff, it gets fucking annoying.”
He gives a quick nod with a small grin on his face. “Got it, Pax.” As I walk away, he continues, “But when you defend it that hard, it comes across another way.”
I hate that he’s right. I hate feeling like I’m back in high school again, wanting her and having no one here I can talk to about it. My brothers wouldn’t understand, and even if they did, they would tease me relentlessly. It’s just how we are with each other.
I glance back at Brock and Griffin. “I’m heading out.”
“Oh, come on, Pax. Don’t leave,” Brock says.
“I stopped in to talk to Callum about the sale I made, but he’s not here, so I’ll catch up with him later. I have shit to do.” And by that, I mean getting the hell out of here.
“I’ll tell Callum you were looking for him, but Pax, have you forgotten how to take a joke?” Brock asks.
“Shit, what happened to you?” Tripp asks, stepping into the room.
I stare at Brock, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with everything going on with Hartford. “Couple small stitches from broken glass. I’m fine,” I say, still staring at Brock. “And I know how to take a joke.”
“Looks painful,” Tripp offers.
“It is.” I head out the back door of the brewery, needing to be far away from my brothers and their accusations. I need somebody real to talk to about this.
And not Hartford. I’d probably scare her if I tried to explain how I’m feeling right now. I don’t even know how I’m feeling.
I continue down Main Street until I spot my favorite coffee shop.
I step into Pour Some Sugar on Me and head to the counter. My finger throbs with each breath I take. The pain is a constant ache, which is a fitting reminder of my entire life right now.
A constant ache in my body. A constant ache in my heart. A constant ache for my best friend.
“Paxton, how are you?” February asks with a smile. I like February. I think she’s perfect for my friend, Harrison. He’s lucky to have found her. Even if their story was unconventional.
I laugh every time I think about their first meeting.
“I’m fine. Definitely in need of something strongly caffeinated,” I tell her.
“Everything all right?” Her blue eyes soften as she notices my finger.
“Oh this?” I hold up my hand. “I do it all the time. No big deal.”
“Pax, what’s going on?” Harrison interrupts, stepping out from a door near the register.
I turn to face him and nod. “Hey, Harrison. Place looks great,” I tell him, my eyes scanning the quaint-rustic coffee shop.
“Thanks. Took a bit to get open.” He wraps an arm around February. “It was worth it though.” He smiles at her, and she gazes up at him, and I instantly think about Hartford. What I wouldn’t give for her to look at me like that.
No, that’s crazy.
My head’s all kinds of fucked up.
“Got a minute?” I ask Harrison.
He drops his arm from around February’s shoulders, and nods. “Sure. Want some coffee?”
I order the pistachio latte, and once I’ve got my latte in hand I follow Harrison out the front door. I follow him around the building to a small courtyard tucked behind the building. There’s a picnic table set up with a string of lights running from the corner of the brick building to the top of the wooden fence separating the area from the next building.
“This is where February and I come when we need time alone. No one knows about it, yet. We plan on expanding and offering more baked goods, and people can come out here to eat them. It’s peaceful and private.”