Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 67432 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67432 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
No. I’d have to deal with this shit one way or another.
I unlocked my phone again and called someone else. This time, I expected them to answer like they always did.
“Halleloo,” my sister sang on the other end of the line. “What’s up, Colt?”
“Hey, Jen. I’m going through it tonight. That guy I was talking to just cut things off with me—apparently, he has a fiancé overseas that’s coming back next week or some shit.”
“No… oh, Colt. Damn it. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” I said in a way that made it clear it wasn’t very fine at all. “Do you still have that bottle of pinot your boss gave you?”
“The vintage one I got for Christmas? Hell yeah I do. Come over and we’ll pop it open. I’ll put on a dumb movie and make some slightly burnt popcorn, just how you like it.”
“You’re the best, Jen.”
She chuckled. “And you’re sociopathic for eating popcorn like that. I’ll see you in a little bit.”
“See you soon,” I said, hanging up and feeling a little better. It would take way more than crispy popcorn and some good wine to get over this, but at least it was a start.
No more guys. None. Never.
An image of Eric’s smiling face flashed across my mind.
Well… maybe not never.
7
ERIC RUIZ
I was going to help him.
That was the thought that first popped into my head the morning after our extremely derailed book club night, where my friends all set aside their books and focused instead of convincing me I had to take Colton’s case. They all had valid points and well-balanced arguments, but it was Noah who clinched it at the end.
“Just imagine it was one of us who needed your help,” he had said, Jake nodding at his side on the couch. “Colton was one of your best friends, and now he needs your help. Just based off that alone, I think it’s an easy decision.”
He was right. Colton and I may have had a tangled history, but at the root of it all, we had been incredible friends. It was what made it so easy for me to fall for him, and what scared me the most about falling for him. I knew that with how strong our connection was, we’d never be able to hide our relationship, and as a closeted young kid suffering under the heel of toxic masculinity, I just wasn’t ready for that.
But I had come a long way as a twenty-eight-year-old man who was out and proud and who’d now wear heels when he occasionally dressed up in drag. Being gay didn’t scare me anymore, not like it had back then.
I stretched out underneath my comforter, realizing there was another reason why I had to say yes: so I could say sorry.
My excuses might have been valid, but that didn’t take away from the pain I’d inflicted back then. I’d never forget Colton’s face as I told him I’d never love him. I may as well have kicked him in the nuts and spat in his face. He didn’t deserve that. Not Colton, who had one of the biggest hearts I knew.
That’s not the only thing about him that’s big, either.
More images flashed across my sleep-fogged brain. Nights of body-melting passion that spilled over into the mornings, watching as the sky slowly changed color outside of the bedroom window, Colton tangled up in my arms, gently stroking me while I kissed his forehead.
My bedsheet tented at the memory, my morning wood throbbing. I pushed the sheets down and opened my legs, closing my eyes as I took myself in a loose fist.
Colton was the first guy I’d ever been with. It all started one night after a mutual friend threw a keg-filled birthday party. We went back to our apartment and stayed up in the living room, talking about all kinds of random shit. At some point, our knees were touching, and I noticed Colton’s hands going to his crotch, as if he were readjusting.
I was the one who made the first move. I leaned over and kissed him, missing his lips and getting his cheek instead. He had smiled, asked what I was doing. I said I was just being drunk and stupid. Colton replied by kissing me back, whispering against my lips, “Let’s keep being drunk and stupid, then.”
I came four times that night. It wasn’t just that Colton’s body was perfectly chiseled from his time at the gym, or the way he would suck my cock without any restraint, or how he’d jerk us both off in one hand until I was covered in cum—there was something far deeper between us that made our sex so explosive. And the seed of that connection was still lying dormant somewhere in my chest, having sparked back to life after the encounter at the coffee shop. I knew there was nothing I could do about it, considering the fact that Colton had clearly moved on, but I also couldn’t deny it existed.