Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
On the way back, I invited Gretchen to my apartment for a smoothie, hoping Skylar would still be home, but he’d already left for work. I was going to guess Gretchen would think his makeup was pretty cool. She didn’t wear much herself, but I’d heard her complain once to Hope that she didn’t know how to apply it well.
Gretchen pulled out her phone and showed me amazing photos from their trip, and damned if it hadn’t been at least a year since I’d been on one of my own.
She sat at the counter while I whipped up strawberry-banana smoothies with almond milk, pondering what Skylar would think of my concoctions. After that eye-opening grocery-store trip, he might beg me to add chocolate.
“What?” Gretchen asked, and when I looked at her funny, she said, “You were smiling to yourself. What’cha thinking about? Or who?”
“Oh, nothing like that.” I poured her a heaping glass. “I was wondering if Skylar would think this stuff too healthy. You should see our pantry since we went grocery shopping. Junk-food heaven.”
“My kinda guy. So…? Tell me more. About Skylar and gymnastics.”
“Ugh.” I sank onto a stool with my own drink. “I don’t talk about it much because it’s a sore spot between me and my parents.”
“Really?” Her surprise made sense, since as far as she knew, I got along well with my parents, and the couple of times she’d met them in passing, she’d gone out of her way to tell me how nice they’d been. She didn’t know how overbearing they could be—more so when I was a kid, but even now sometimes as an employee. Still, our disagreements were few and far between, unless it involved my love life. Besides, I led a pretty boring life for a twenty-four-year-old, so they had nothing to complain about.
“Yeah, my parents pulled me out of gymnastics even though I loved it so much. Skylar and I had become fast friends, so it sucked to never see him again.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Only friends?”
I rolled my eyes. “I was twelve. But he was probably my first real crush.”
“Oooh,” she teased. “He is pretty.”
I nodded because he really was. Always had been. “But we’re such opposites. Plus, he only likes to hook up, and you know that’s not me. We’re much better off as friends.”
Right then I was so glad to have Gretchen to confide in like this because I didn’t have many friends I could do that with—which was undoubtedly one of the reasons why it was so nice to reconnect with Skylar.
As I sipped my smoothie, I considered how many of my exes I’d remained friends with, and the answer was, not many. I’d been in several monogamous relationships, and once they ended, I had no interest in keeping in touch. If we were bad as a couple, how would we be as friends?
And my work friends were pretty much all straight, so I couldn’t imagine asking for relationship advice or even telling any of them about Skylar. But that sat wrong too. It wasn’t that I was ashamed of him, only that they wouldn’t understand someone who was so sex positive and free like him. I was the “safe” kind of gay man. Ugh.
“Do you think your parents got wind of your crush back then and that’s why they stepped in?” Gretchen asked in a serious tone.
“I always wondered what the real story was…” I felt that tightness in my chest again. “But after a weeklong silent standoff, we never discussed it again. And now that I’m an adult, they can’t do much about it, can they?”
“Nope. If anything, Skylar would be fun to have around.” Her eyes brightened. “Maybe Hope and I can have dinner with you guys one night.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll have to check with him about what nights he has off.”
“Okay, and hey!” She thumped the table in excitement. “Maybe we should go to the Playground one night.”
“You’d want to do that?”
She grinned. “Why not?”
“I think I’ll take you up on that offer,” I told her—without mentioning that it was one of Skylar’s stipulations.
“Deal.”
We clinked glasses.
11
Skylar
“So tell me all about Clark,” Mom said as we sat at a picnic table in the park, our iced Dutch Bros coffees between us. There were two kinds of people—Starbucks or Dutch Bros. While they were fighting words in a lot of circles, Mom and I were Team Dutch Bros.
I moved the straw around in the cup, sloshing around the ice. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Well, you’re living with a cute boy… That’s a first for you.”
My mom was ridiculous. I swear when it came to men and, well, life sometimes, she was like a child. It was weird to feel like more of an adult than my own parent. Especially since I didn’t feel like an adult myself half the time. I mean, I took care of my responsibilities and all, but I also wanted to live it up as long as I could. “I’m not living with him in that way. I’m staying in his spare room until my apartment is ready.”