Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
It’s a little late for me to decide not to get involved with East. I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to…and I don’t want to. Will it be easy? Nope. The truth is, I have no idea what I mean by “getting involved.” Do I think we’re going to be boyfriends? I can’t see Easton wanting that, and I’m not sure I do either, but I want something. I’m intrigued by him. We’re entangled in this way I didn’t anticipate, and I want to explore it. How we choose to do that, if we choose to do that, is up to me and East. But Cass is right about one thing: the higher-ups won’t like it. He’s not a felon, and that makes a difference, but he’s been in enough trouble that it’s a bad look.
I’m also not going to walk away from my friend because of mistakes he’s made.
“I’ll be fine,” I tell Cass because it’s the only answer I have right now. I can’t say what this means with Easton. I can’t say if it will go anywhere. But I want to be his friend. I want to know what it’s like to feel him beneath me too.
“I have your back no matter what. Whatever you want, I want for you, but think about this before you make any rash decisions, okay?”
I nod, but there’s not really anything to think about. I’m already too involved.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Easton
I feel Dusty’s gaze on me all day at work, just like I did yesterday when Archer showed up here. What was he thinking? He’s going to give people the wrong idea. Hell, I never should have hung out with him that day. I knew better, but I did it anyway, and now things are even more of a clusterfuck than usual.
“What?” I finally ask Dusty when I can’t take the intense weight of his stare anymore.
“Who’s Casanova?”
I roll my eyes, but at least it’s better than him asking me about Archer. I swear my life would be easier if people would just leave me alone. “My dog.”
His gaze softens. “Is that what you were doing when you needed to leave early? Saving another dog?”
“Fuck. This is why I didn’t tell you. Don’t look at me like that. It’s nothing. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Archer—”
“Nope.” I definitely don’t want to talk about him. He texted me again this morning, something stupid about just letting me know he’s there when I’m ready. What the fuck even is that? And ready for what?
Dusty chuckles.
“Not sure what’s so funny.”
“I just like him…as your friend.”
“We’re not friends,” I grit out. “Stop talking.”
Dusty laughs as I pull my mask down and resume my work. I need to go back to spending my nights in the bar, drinking and doing my thing.
Luckily, Dusty leaves me alone, but as soon as I pull into the driveway at my house, I see Morgan’s car parked there.
Fuck my life.
“Did your boyfriend tell you to come over?” I say to Morgan as soon as I get out.
“No. Was he supposed to? I figured I’d stop by. I was at the bar today, and I haven’t seen you much since we returned.”
No, he hasn’t. Not that I can blame him because I haven’t even tried. It’s so strange having Morgan back. I was seventeen when he left, and before then he and Rhett had basically been my dads. And while I think they both still see it that way, the relationship is different now. The relationship we’re trying to build, I mean. We’re all men now, but we’re still trying to figure out how to be brothers.
I want to tell him to leave. I want to stop all this stuff that people keep trying to do that makes me…feel. But his pleading look tells me he wants to stay, wants to be here with me, and damned if a hidden part of me doesn’t cling to that. “Might as well stay for dinner. Your boyfriend can’t come. He was pissing me off.”
Morgan laughs. “He’ll be fine with it. Hey, it sounds like there are two dogs inside.”
“You don’t have to pretend Dusty didn’t tell you. I know that’s a thing couples do. Tell each other shit.” I unlock the door.
That earns me a second round of chuckles from my brother. “Well, yeah. That is a thing couples are supposed to do, but he didn’t tell me you got another dog, if that’s what’s going on here.”
I open the door and let that speak for itself. Pretty Girl comes running out first, Casanova right behind, skidding to a stop when he notices someone else there. “It’s my brother,” I tell the pup. “He’s like a cough that lingers after a cold, but he’s not too bad…just don’t ask him to take care of Pretty Girl. If you do, he’ll show up with a dad and brother who hate you and an…Archer.”