Pretty Sweet Read online Riley Hart, Christina Lee (Boys in Makeup #2)

Categories Genre: Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: , Series: Boys in Makeup Series by Riley Hart
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Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
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“Oooh. Yeah. Definitely not that kind of friend. I thought my boy was finally dating! I was so proud!” he teased. “New friend?”

“Yeah, she works at the assisted living facility where I volunteer. She’s really nice. I’m excited to go and hang out, ya know?”

“That’s good. You know you’re always welcome with me and Dane too, right?”

“I know,” I replied, but I didn’t want to keep depending on him. I wanted to…change. Grow. That was partly the reason I’d taken the job playing the piano at the Underground on Saturday nights. I needed to find something.

We lay there for a while chatting, and I could almost forget that Jesse didn’t live with me anymore. About an hour later, his phone rang, and he pulled it out of his pocket. He smiled, and I knew it was Dane. “Oh my God. You’re so sappy and in love!” It was fun to tease him, as Jesse had never thought he’d fall for someone.

“Ugh. I can’t help it. Be nice.” He answered the call, and I tried to pull away because I felt weird sometimes now, like I shouldn’t let Jesse be cuddly with me. Maybe it wasn’t fair to Dane. Jesse swore it didn’t matter, that Dane understood, but it made me feel silly. “What ya doing?” he said into the phone, then, “I’m snuggling with Seth.” Jesse listened for a second before telling me, “Dane says hi and wants to know how you lived with me for so long. He thinks I’m messy.”

I laughed. “You are messy. So glad he took you off my hands.” This time I did pull away and sat up. Jesse did the same.

They chatted for a minute before he ended the call. “We’re taking Hailey to a movie at three. Do you have time to go before your dinner?” Hailey was Dane’s niece, and he and Jesse were crazy about her. Jesse had always loved kids and planned to be a therapist one day.

“No, I’m supposed to be there at six.”

He nodded and stood before kissing me on the forehead. “I better run, then. Have fun. Love you, talk to you tomorrow.”

“Love you too,” I replied as Jesse left.

As soon as the door closed, the apartment felt too quiet again. And it never really felt like a home either. None of the decorations were mine. Mom had come with me and paid someone to do it. The tile flooring felt cold, and the stark colors and modern designs felt like a photo in a magazine instead of a cozy home. It was one hundred percent Mom’s taste.

I went over to the piano against the far wall and played for about half an hour. It always helped distract me. By then it was late enough that I jumped in the shower, then got dressed in dark jeans and a navy shirt. I put eyeliner on, but no lipstick. My hair always flopped over my forehead, so I grabbed the baseball cap I liked to wear and put it on backward.

On the way there, I stopped and bought a bottle of wine, then thought they might not drink wine and got some beer as well, one of the apple kinds I saw Dane drink occasionally. As I walked toward the front of the store, their floral department caught my eye, so I grabbed flowers too, almost put them back, almost put everything back, and then went with it.

I obviously wasn’t very good at this.

Bonnie’s house was in Southeast Portland in the Brentwood-Darling neighborhood, which was all residential homes, some old and some newer. I pulled up in front of their brown A-frame house. It was older, probably thirty years old or so, but it looked…comfortable.

My hands were a little sweaty. I rubbed them on my jeans. It was silly to be nervous to have dinner with Bonnie, but I didn’t know her son or what to expect. In some ways I guessed I was more like my mom than I liked to admit. I wanted some kind of control.

I pushed open the car door, grabbed the stuff, and got out. I made it to the driveway when the door opened and Bonnie came out. “Look at you! You didn’t need to bring all that.”

“Sorry.”

“Hush, you. There’s nothing to be sorry for. It’s nice. I didn’t want you to feel obligated.”

I handed the flowers and wine over. “I didn’t. I appreciate you guys having me over.”

“No problem.”

She led me inside, and it was nice and homey, with mostly warm colors. The large living room had a tan couch and led right into the kitchen, which had an island as well as a long wooden dining table.

“I’ll put these in some water. My son is in the shower. He’s running a few minutes behind. He’s a mechanic and stayed a little late.”



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