Love and History (The Script Club #6) Read Online Lane Hayes

Categories Genre: Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: The Script Club Series by Lane Hayes
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Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
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“No, you’re just rude.”

“I’m the rude one, but you want to charge me ten fuckin’ bucks for coffee.” Ezra threw his arms in the air. “How does that work, Shakespeare?”

“Stop calling me Shakespeare,” I hissed.

“Only if you stop—”

“Gentlemen! Truce.” Tommy stepped between us with his arms outstretched.

“Wow, your foreplay is epic,” Noah teased, hefting a grocery bag onto the counter.

“Foreplay, my ass,” Ezra griped, swiping his hand through his hair as he glared at me. And because he had the attention span of a gnat, he gestured at the groceries. “Please tell me you bought coffee.”

“We did.”

“You two are my new best friends,” Ezra gushed. He stabbed a finger at my chest. “You…I’m kicking you outta my fan club.”

“Oh, no. That’s terrible news,” I snarked in my best monotone voice. “On that note, I’ve spared all the brain cells I’m willing to part with this morning. Have a good day, gentlemen.”

I sailed out of the kitchen, making sure my robe swayed regally behind me.

“Holden. Wait.” Tommy followed me into the foyer.

“I’m sorry. I know I promised not to feud with…him—” I paused on the bottom step, gesturing manically toward the kitchen. “But he gets my goat every time.”

“This isn’t about Ezra. I received an email from the landlord this morning about our lease.”

I frowned. “Why? We have the house through August.”

“Yes, but it’s the end of June now, and I think he wants to gauge our interest to see if we’re thinking about renewing it again.”

“Oh. Are you moving out with Noah?” I asked, chewing the side of my thumb.

The foyer was dark as heck, but I could have sworn he blushed. “We’ve talked about it…a little. I don’t know if it’ll happen right away. He just survived my sister’s wedding. I don’t want to overwhelm him. Living together is a big step.”

“True, but he could always move in here,” I suggested, unthinking.

“Noah’s condo is near his place of business. Giving that up to live with roommates and deal with a commute isn’t logical. But being with him is, so…I don’t know what we’ll do. We don’t have to make a decision today, but summer always flies by and we should probably discuss this with our other roommates.”

Because timing was everything, a gigantic belch rumbled through the walls followed by, “Did you hear that?”

Ugh. That man was a moron.

I frowned in the general direction of the kitchen. “I cannot willingly sign on to live with that oaf for another year.”

Tommy snickered. “Ezra’s not that bad.”

“He’s not that good either,” I huffed, glancing at my watch. “Let’s revisit this later. I have to get to my meeting.”

“All right. I just don’t want to leave anyone in limbo.”

I sighed. “I understand. But I also don’t think it’s a big deal. Ezra and Cole aren’t going to want to sign on for another year with us.”

“Maybe not, but they both seem pretty comfortable. Especially Ezra,” he commented. “I’ll tell the landlord we’ll have a definitive answer by the end of July or sooner. Sound good?”

“Yes.”

Tommy gestured at my robe. “Renaissance in the Park?”

I nodded. “Seven weeks and counting. Care to join the behind-the-scenes action? We have room for a wandering townsperson or a barkeep or—”

“No, thanks,” he intercepted. “I prefer being a spectator. Besides, those costumes look cumbersome and hot.”

“They are. But the rental pricing for Elizabethan finery is favorable in summertime and we need to save money wherever possible. We lost a major donor last year. There’s a whisper of unease among the ranks. If we don’t attract a large audience, this might be the last hoorah for Renaissance in the Park.”

Tommy frowned. “That would be terrible.”

“I know. I wish I had a few thousand dollars to spare. Sadly, I do not.”

“Me either.” He patted my shoulder and stepped aside. “Good luck and don’t worry about the lease. It’ll work out.”

I gave a dorky double thumbs-up before heading upstairs to finish getting ready. It seemed easier to go along with breezy sentiments than face the cold truth that this halcyon phase of life was coming to a close.

We’d officially neared the end of our tenure at this lovely old house. Everyone had grown up and moved on. It was time to think about what came next for me too.

And I would.

After taking a brief sojourn in Tudor times.

“Hark! Hither yonder! Thine king doth cometh!”

Winston blasted his trumpet with enough force to blow out the eardrums of everyone in the front row, then raced across the stage. No one looked up.

Jordan and I studied our respective notes while Val, our volunteer director, scrolled on her cell. We were in the midst of running through one of the short plays we staged at the History Reenactment Society’s annual extravaganza, Renaissance in the Park. We adhered to flimsy scripts with minimal direction, so no one batted an eyelash when the king didn’t immediately appear. Our audiences didn’t come for the flawless choreography or top-notch acting. They came for an experience.



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