Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 42450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 212(@200wpm)___ 170(@250wpm)___ 142(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 212(@200wpm)___ 170(@250wpm)___ 142(@300wpm)
“Mate, I don’t have all night,” Greg said, starting to sound annoyed. “Are you one of those ‘straight’ blokes who can’t make up their mind? I was promised a fuck. Get over here, dammit.”
Tyler took a step back, eyeing the guy warily. He only now noticed that there was a slur to the guy’s voice and his face was suspiciously red. Greg wasn’t sober. How the hell had he missed that?
“I…” he said uncertainly, taking another step back. “Look, man, I’m sorry, but I don’t wanna do it.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Greg gritted out, his fists clenching. They were huge, Tyler noted with growing uneasiness. Greg glowered at him. “I drove to the other end of the city at ass o’clock for this bullshit?”
“Look, there’s no need to be upset—”
“I’ll fucking show you upset, you little cocktease!” Greg strode toward him, his expression downright menacing.
It was pure self-preservation, not cowardice: Tyler ran into the bathroom and locked it. Greg pounded on the door, swearing and yelling at Tyler.
“Calm the fuck down,” Tyler said, both to himself and to Greg. He wasn’t a pussy. He could totally stand his own against that guy, no matter how huge those fists looked. He worked out, for fuck’s sake. He was in great shape.
Except having the muscles didn’t mean much if you didn’t know how to use them. He’d never been in a real fight. The last time he’d been in one he was fifteen, and even then he hadn’t actually had to fight. Nick had done it for him.
Nick.
He could call Nick. Nick would know what to do.
Incredibly happy that he still had his jeans on and his phone was in his pocket, Tyler pulled it out and dialed the familiar number.
“Are you joking?” Nick said when Tyler explained the situation. “Tell me you’re joking.”
“There’s a drunk, angry, horny bloke outside the bathroom,” Tyler hissed, wincing as Greg shoved hard against the door. “Come here and chase him away. You can make fun of me later.”
Nick hung up.
Tyler could only hope that meant that Nick was in a hurry to get to him instead of going back to sleep. Had he written down the address Tyler had told him?
“Look, there’s no need to be upset,” he tried again, raising his voice.
“Come out, you prick!” The door rattled again.
Tyler sighed and slid down to the floor, figuring he might as well get comfortable until Nick arrived. He half-hoped Greg would get bored and leave, but as drunk people often tended to be, the guy seemed to be stupidly stubborn and hell-bent on “teaching him a lesson.” It didn’t even seem as though he’d gotten dressed. Fuck, Nick was never going to let him live it down—if Nick came at all.
Tyler frowned. Calling Nick—expecting Nick to deal with his mess—was an instinctive reaction, a deeply ingrained habit after years of friendship, but maybe he shouldn’t have done it. They still hadn’t met up after that weird phone call the other day, and the few texts they’d exchanged were oddly strained and awkward. Tyler had no clue where they stood with each other. Part of him was still pissed off at Nick for his disappearing act, and irritated with him for choosing to hang out with some Brad person instead of him.
But he also missed his best mate.
What if he doesn’t come?
Tyler tried to push the thought away, but it refused to go. After the last few weeks, he didn’t exactly feel secure where his friendship with Nick was concerned. If Nick didn’t come…
Well, that would answer once and for all the question of whether Nick was sick of him or not, wouldn’t it?
Chapter 11
Tyler didn’t know how long he waited. He tried not to look at his phone—he didn’t want to keep checking it like an obsessed person.
Finally, he heard some noises that weren’t Greg’s insults.
“Get dressed and get out,” Nick’s voice said.
Tyler’s shoulders sagged in relief.
He’d come.
“Who do you think you are?” Greg gritted out, still sounding pissed off.
Tyler felt a twinge of concern. Due to having so many brothers, Nick was a lot better at fighting than he was, but Greg’s fists could still do some substantial damage. Tyler contemplated leaving the bathroom and helping Nick out, but before he could do anything, Nick bit off, “Get out.”
There must have been something convincing on his face, because Greg actually seemed to give up, grumbling something under his breath. Before long, Tyler heard the door slam shut.
“Tyler?”
Tyler stood, unlocked the door, and gave Nick his best sheepish look. “Thanks, man. You’re a lifesaver!”
A muscle twitched in Nick’s jaw, his gray eyes stormy as he pinned Tyler with a withering look. It kind of made Tyler nervous. It was very, very hard to truly piss Nick off, but it wasn’t pretty when it happened.
“What did you think you were doing?” Nick bit out, grabbing Tyler’s shoulders and shaking him. “Meeting a total stranger—a drunk stranger—in some dingy place, where no one would give a shit if he raped you or fucking murdered you?”