Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
After six years of platonic friendship, we’d gone into this with eyes wide open and now we needed to figure out what the fuck we were going to do.
I lifted my head and sniffed, distracted. “Did you put deodorant on?” I asked as he slid his arm under me.
“Yeah.” He grinned at me.
“Why?”
“Because I was sweaty and stinkin’.”
“You weren’t stinkin’.” My eyes widened. Was this like one of those times that you put a piece of gum in your mouth and then offered it to the other person because they had stinky breath? I tilted my head and smelled my own armpit.
“You smell like a fuckin’ dream,” he said with a laugh.
“Oh, please.”
“A wet dream,” he joked, his eyes twinkling.
“I just worked all day.”
“Yeah, and you smelled like Nova,” he said with a shrug, pulling me against his chest. “And now you smell like Nova and sex. Perfect combo.”
“I probably smelled like glue and that foam shit that you use to put flower arrangements in,” I grumbled, laying my arm over his waist.
“Yum.”
We were quiet for a bit. I’d always liked cuddling with Rumi, whether it was on the couch while we were watching a movie or during one of the many camping trips he took me on when I was cold as fuck and made him sleep next to me—but I had to admit that naked cuddling was about a thousand times better. I wasn’t sure how to even broach the subject of how things were going to be in the future. Luckily for me, he spoke first.
“Gotta admit,” he said, giving me a squeeze. “I was pretty fuckin’ freaked out today wonderin’ how this was gonna work.”
“Oh, yeah?” I murmured, closing my eyes.
“Yeah. Kept tellin’ myself I was just hungover, but my stomach was in fuckin’ knots.” He paused. “But this is good. Friends that fuck, yeah? Nothin’ wrong with that. Nothin’s gotta change or be weird or whatever.”
I’d been thinking the same thing. The exact same thing. Nothing had to change. But when the same words came out of Rumi’s mouth, all the air left me. It felt like the time I’d fallen out of the tree house at his parents’ place and got the wind knocked out of me. Like I’d been punched in the chest.
“Right,” I wheezed, grimacing at how strange I sounded. I needed to get it the fuck together before he asked what was wrong. “Friends that fuck.”
“We’re young, you know?” he said easily. “No need to make shit serious or anythin’ like that.”
“Of course not,” I replied.
We were nineteen. He was right. I hadn’t even saved up enough to start school yet. I had a million things I wanted to do before I started anything serious with anyone and with Rumi, it couldn’t be anything but serious if we were together.
“Still best friends,” he said, kissing the top of my head.
“Always.”
He fell asleep a little while later. I knew because he was making the little snuffling noise that he always made when he’d completely passed out. I crawled out of the bed and pulled the blankets over him, stopping to take in his tangled hair and the familiar contours of his face. If either of us were beautiful, it was Rumi. He’d gotten the best parts of both his parents, high cheekbones and defined jaw from his dad, full lips and bedroom eyes from his mom. It was a killer combination.
I got dressed quickly and turned the lights off as I made my way through the house since I knew he wouldn’t wake up again until morning. Rumi slept like the dead and always had. It was like the moment he decided it was time for bed, he just flipped a switch and he was asleep—not like us lesser mortals that ran through the million thoughts that had been waiting for a quiet moment to make their presence known.
As I drove home, I reminded myself that I’d never had any intention of being in a relationship with Rumi. Romantic relationships ended. They were messy. They came with drama and jealousy and feelings. I’d decided back when we were just kids that going down that road with Rumi was a terrible idea and that fact hadn’t changed just because he’d played my body like a fucking maestro. We were the same. We just knew a little more about each other than we’d known before.
I knew he liked it when I ran my tongue down the side of his dick and he knew that I liked when he bit my thighs. That didn’t mean that we couldn’t stay friends.
The lights were on when I parked next to my grandparents’ trailer and I checked the time again in surprise. Nobody ever stayed up this late, not even on the weekends. Usually if Bird was still up, he’d be in his bedroom reading, but the light in the family room and kitchen were definitely on.