Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 60851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
She took the essay and backed away quickly. “Well, thank you for bringing this in. Get well soon.”
“Thanks.” Ewan turned away quickly to hide his grin and faked a cough.
Dodged a bullet.
His phone chimed when he was in the library later, searching the shelves for some books for the next essay he needed to research. He quickly pulled it out and turned the ringer off so he wouldn’t disturb people more than he already had.
Hi, I hope you had a good week. I’m just checking we’re still on for tonight?
Ewan smiled. He loved the way Dev always typed his texts in full sentences, never mind full words. It was so typical of him.
Yep, definitely. Where and when? Ewan replied.
My place again, if that suits you. And how about 7.30?
Fine, see you then.
Ewan would normally have shortened that to CU, but he didn’t want Dev to judge him. Another text arrived from Dev before Ewan put his phone away.
Did you get your test results yet?
Yes, all negative.
Me too.
Fuck being judged—that was an emoji moment. He sent two of those aubergines that looked like dicks, followed by water droplets.
Dev took a little while to reply, but when the message finally popped up, it was a picture of a tongue sticking out.
Ewan stifled a snort of laughter, put his phone back in his pocket, and carried on searching through the books on cognitive therapy.
When Ewan rang the bell at Dev’s place that evening, it was the blond guy—Mac’s boyfriend—who answered it.
“Oh, hey.” The guy grinned. “It’s Ewan, isn’t it? Come in. You’re here to see Dev, yeah? He’s in the kitchen.”
“Yeah, hi. Um….” Ewan couldn’t remember his name.
“Jez.”
“Hi, Jez.”
Ewan followed him down the hallway and into the brightly lit kitchen. It was hot in there; the windows had steamed up, and there was an alarming smell of burning.
Mac was stirring something in a wok, and Dev was scraping at a pan in the sink.
“Dev, do you want me to stir this for you?” Mac asked. “I think it’s sticking.”
“Oh no, not again!” Dev turned. His cheeks were pink and his hair was rumpled. “Oh.” His face registered surprise when he caught sight of Ewan. “Didn’t you get my text?”
“No.” Ewan’s heart sank. Had Dev tried to cancel on him?
That hurt more than he would have expected. He’d rushed to get there on time because he’d been looking forward to it. He pulled his phone out, and there was Dev’s message.
Sorry, I’m running late, can you come round at 8 instead?
Relief rippled through him. “Ah. Yeah, now I got it. Sorry, I put my phone on silent earlier and forgot to put the sound back on.”
“Dev, this is definitely sticking,” Mac said. “You’re going to fuck up another pan at this rate. I’m turning it down.”
“Can I help?” Ewan asked.
Mac spoke over Dev’s protests. “I think he needs it. Keep an eye on this for him.” He pointed to a pan of something unidentifiable that was bubbling away like crazy in a saucepan, then turned to Jez. “Ours is done now, babe. Can you get bowls out?”
Mac had made some sort of stir-fry with vegetables, noodles, and what looked like chicken. It was way more appealing than whatever Dev was cooking.
“What the hell is this, Dev?” Ewan asked as he poked the dodgy stuff in the pan.
“Baked beans, frozen peas, and chopped-up frankfurters—veggie ones.”
Ewan wrinkled his nose. “Um… is that a family recipe or what?”
“It’s what I had left after I burned the sauce I was heating up for pasta,” Dev explained. “It contains all the major food groups.”
“Huh.” Ewan poked it again. It looked truly disgusting.
“Are you hungry? Because I think there’s enough if you’d like some.”
“Ah. No… no,” Ewan said hastily. “I’m fine, thank you.”
Jez snorted. “You see, Dev. I told you no normal person would eat that shit. Just look at it!”
Dev had finished scraping the burned mess out of the pan. He came over and took the spoon from Ewan. “It might taste better than it looks.”
Ewan had to admire his optimism.
Jez shook his head in mock sympathy. “Let’s hope so. Hey, Ewan, do you know how to cook?”
“Yeah, I like cooking. Why?”
“Well… Dev’s helping you with maths, isn’t he? Maybe it would be fair exchange if you took this boy in hand and taught him how to cook before he burns our house down. He’s a fucking disaster.”
Ewan nearly choked at Jez’s turn of phrase. He was already looking forward to taking Dev in hand again later—and in his mouth. He cleared his throat. “Um. Maybe?” He glanced at Dev, uncertain how to respond.
“But Ewan’s already—” Dev began.
“Yeah, that’s a great idea, actually.” Ewan cut in. He had no idea what the hell Dev had been about to say and didn’t want to find out. “I could do that, if you want?” He raised his eyebrows at Dev.