Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 128742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
There’s one bag he hasn’t opened yet, so he tears into it with a disappointed huff. I’m taking a second glance at the clothes still hanging in my closet when he gasps.
“What is this?” Lee holds up clumps of fabric in two fists.
Apprehensive, I respond, “Clothes?”
He beams at me. “Finally!”
From the bag, he lays out a black graphic T-shirt, a long cardigan, and a dark gray pair of cutoffs. Basically something I’d wear to ride my horse or do chores. He then grabs a handful of necklaces from my dresser and throws them at the outfit with a pair of booties compiled on my bed. The relief that washes over him is visibly intense.
“Clothes,” he declares happily.
His phone buzzes on my nightstand. As he goes over to read the message, I notice a secret smile tug at his lips.
“Who’s that?” I ask, because I’m nosy.
“George. A new friend.”
“A special friend?”
His smile grows wider. “Could be.”
“He coming to the show?”
Lee laughs at me and shakes his head. “Not that kind of friend.”
“Ah. I see.”
“We’re meeting up after the show, though.”
“Got a picture?”
Lee beckons me over and opens Grindr to show me his new friend’s profile. I lean in for a better look. George is handsome, except for one glaring deformity.
“What’s with the cop ’stache?” I demand, aghast.
“Oh, babe, I know,” he grouses. Lee places his finger over the lower half of George’s face. “But see? Perfect.”
I laugh. “Maybe you can talk him out of it.”
“If things go really well, I’m shaving that thing off once he falls asleep.”
“Lee, mate!”
Jack suddenly bursts into my room while I’m still standing in nothing but my bra and underwear. My hands fly up to fight over what to cover more.
“You got any ibuprofen? I’ve a headache throbbing behind my left eye. What’s up with that? It’s driving me mad.”
I turn sideways in the hopes I might become invisible to him. Like camouflaged prey in the forest. Except I’m more like a pale, freckled deer in the headlights. Our eyes meet in the mirror on top of my dresser. His quickly flick away at realizing I’m not exactly dressed for company. They return, though. Only for a second. Something flashes across his expression that I can’t read. Then it’s gone.
“Put some clothes on, ay?” Jack says with an unbothered grin. “This is a family establishment.”
Oblivious to my mortification, Lee answers Jack with, “Top drawer of my vanity.”
“Lee in there?” Jamie appears in my doorway, entirely naked. A towel is slung over his shoulder. “Have you used my trimmers? I’ve just gone to find them, but they’re not in my cabinet.”
My hand flies up to avert my gaze, but it’s too late. The image of Jamie Jr. is burnt on my retinas.
Barely a week in and already my father’s worst nightmares are coming true.
“Go on, darling. Have a gander,” Jamie says with humor in his voice. “Surely you’ve seen a knob before.”
“Oh,” I say, coughing a laugh. “Isn’t that quaint.”
Jack keels over with laughter. “Oh no, mate. She called it quaint.”
“I think she meant the euphemism.”
“No, she’s said your willy’s sweet and delicate like Grandma’s knitting.”
Truthfully, my experience with a penis by any name is limited to a one-night stand in high school and a guy freshman year I could generously call my boyfriend. The sex was good, but neither of us were devastated when we moved on.
“Yeah, so can I have my room back now?” I ask, arms strategically placed, talking to the floor.
“Right, you lot.” Lee corrals the boys away from the door with arms out wide. “Time for a house meeting about knocking first.”
Relief trickles over me once they’re gone, and I allow my hands to drop to my sides. Cohabitation will take some getting used to.
And door locks.
We catch a ride to the pub, which is itself a fraught ordeal. Lee seizes the front seat and leaves me sandwiched in the back between Jack, Jamie, and Jamie’s penis. But it’s Jack, with his sculpted arms and muscular legs pressed against mine, that has me running warm. Both from embarrassment and nervousness.
Like a scratchy throat warning of a coming cold, I feel the fizz of a budding crush bubbling in my gut. He looks utterly edible in a pair of faded jeans and a T-shirt with a surf logo stretched across his broad chest. And he smells really good. So good I have to force myself not to breathe because I’m worried I’ll sigh dreamily each time I inhale.
Except not breathing isn’t conducive to staying alive, so before long, I’m forced to suck in an abrupt gulp of air. Which makes me cough for a few seconds and draws an amused look from Jack.
Check her out, folks. The weirdo American who hasn’t figured out oxygen.
I’m practically jumping out of my skin by the time the driver pulls up at the curb. The moment I’m out of the car, I breathe in the fresh evening air and pretend I’m not at all affected by the hot Australian standing next to me.