Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 65643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
Andrew paused the reality TV show we’d been dissecting and turned to face me again. I was struck again by how good looking he was. He wasn’t handsome in the way that Garrett was–you’d never call Andrew particularly rugged, but he had a devastating, poetic beauty. Like a man who had been dipped in gold. They were both tall, but whereas Garrett was the type to pull you up on your tiptoes to meet him in a kiss, Andrew would bend down, like a gentleman.
Oh, why didn’t I want to kiss him? It didn’t make sense.
“I don’t get it,” I said to Andrew. “We get along so well. I think you’re good looking. And you think I’m cute, right?”
“I’d say you’re tolerable.” Andrew’s voice was joking, but there was just the briefest hesitation before he spoke that made me look at him closer.
“I think you’re gorgeous,” he added. “You know I do.”
Again, it wasn’t what he was saying, but how he was saying it that was catching my attention. I suddenly thought about how easily he’d agreed to go along with our fake romance. Was it really just to help out an old friend, or was there more? Why had Andrew Quinn, hottest bachelor in town, taken himself off the market? And what had he told the dozen or so girls that I’m sure he had running after him?
Unless.
“Gorgeous, but not your type of gorgeous?” I asked slowly, testing the waters.
“Not my kind of gorgeous,” Andrew agreed. He smiled his million-dollar grin at me. “You can say it, Dez.”
“You’re gay.”
He nodded.
“And you don’t want anyone to know.”
Andrew shrugged his shoulders. “Not yet. If I meet someone, I’m not going to hide them. But I’m not trying to meet someone yet.”
“So, you have never been even remotely interested in me,” I clarified, a tinge of mortification heating my cheeks. All this time, I’d thought we were circling each other. Considering each other. But I’d been dead wrong.
Had I been wrong about Garrett, too?
“I’m interested in your wellbeing.” Andrew pinched my cheek and grinned again. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. I didn’t think coming out was supposed to be a big deal anymore.”
“It’s not!” I said, my embarrassment morphing into horror. “Oh my God, Andrew. I don’t care who you want to sleep with as long as they’re of age and it’s consensual.”
“Then you’re a bigger person than Geoffrey,” he joked.
“Oh please, don’t even mention that name.” I wrapped my arms around my stomach. Just thinking about him made me feel sick. But then–he was the reason I was here on the couch of Andrew’s rented apartment, feeling closer to him than I’d felt to any of my other friends in a long time. “I guess I’m just surprised you care about people finding out.”
Andrew shrugged again, but this time I sensed the discomfort in it. “It’s not that I care. At least–” he looked up at the ceiling. “Okay, I do care because no matter how progressive this town is, you still don’t see a lot of leading men who are dating other men. I don’t want to shortchange my career until I meet someone who means more than my career.”
“I get that,” I said slowly. “It’s kind of like…well, it’s not exactly like, but–”
Andrew raised his eyebrows as I tied my tongue in knots trying to explain.
“I’ve never slept with anyone because I don’t want to risk getting pregnant and short changing my career until I meet someone who means more than my career,” I got out finally. “So, I know it’s not the same thing, but I kind of get it.”
“You know they have these things called birth control and condoms,” Andrew joked. “Should we run over to a Duane Reade?”
I made a face at him. “No. At this point, I might as well wait for the right person.”
He patted me on the shoulder. “I hope he comes along soon so you don’t die a virgin.”
We went back to watching the show again, letting the heaviness of our conversation sink in and settle.
“You’ve never met anyone who meant more to you than your career?” I asked Andrew a few minutes later, not bothering to pause the housewives this time.
Andrew took so long to answer I thought maybe he hadn’t heard me, but finally he rolled his head on the couch so that he was facing me and slowly shook his head. “Not yet. Have you?”
Garrett’s face appeared in my mind, fully formed. His golden-brown eyes that crinkled at the corners when he smirked. His auburn hair, the color of autumn leaves. His hands in my hair, his mouth hard on mine.
“No,” I said so definitely that Andrew pulled back in surprise. “Sorry.” I modulated my voice, returning to its normal volume and fervor. “No,” I said again. And then, as if three times was the charm that turned a lie true, I said it again. “Definitely not.”