Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
“Drink it that much, does he?”
“No, to work.”
Warren frowned. “He’s going to work there while he teaches?”
“Exactly what I said. And how sad is it that he has to? That making ends meet is so difficult that he has to teach and be a barista? We live in a fucked-up world.”
“Wow…yeah, that’s a lot.”
The more I thought about it, the more I knew that was the case—that Zander was working again. And I got it, I did, but it was his first day teaching. He deserved to enjoy it, to soak it all in without rushing to a second job.
I ignored the fact that he hadn’t replied to me. He would still have had time to send a text.
“You’re thinking hard over there.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll stop being distracted.”
Warren’s brows drew together, but he didn’t respond to that. We chatted as we finished eating. It was almost eight when we walked out together and said goodbye. I got to my car and opened the door just as Warren said, “Hey, Harrison?”
“Yeah?”
“Be careful, okay?”
Be careful because of Zander. “I’m fine. I know what I’m doing. We’re just enjoying each other.”
Still, I didn’t go home. I drove to the coffeehouse, and sure enough, Zander’s car was there.
He looked up when I opened the door, and was it me, or was there a sparkle in his eyes? “Hey,” he said, wiping down the counter. Luckily, they weren’t very busy—a few people were already drinking, and there were two coworkers there with him. “Sorry I didn’t text you back. The morning was crazy, and then I spaced it.” He did that a lot—forgetting to eat, to text, and things like that.
“It’s fine. I can’t quite understand it, but you have a life outside of me.” I grinned. “Sorry to show up here like a stalker. I just…” Wanted to see him, wanted to know how his day had gone.
“Zander, you can go ahead and clock out. We’re slow, and I know you worked your other job today,” one of his coworkers said before I could continue.
“Great. Thanks,” he replied, then to me, “Wanna wait, or are you heading out?”
“I’ll wait.”
His teeth dug into his bottom lip. He wasn’t trying to be sexy, but he really fucking was. “Awesome. I wanna tell you about my day anyway.”
That had to be a good thing. It sounded like it had gone well.
I hung around while he went to the back room. A couple of minutes later he was out, minus the apron and with a backpack. When we went outside, his stomach growled, making me shake my head.
“I was too anxious this morning, so I forgot my lunch at home, and afterward I came straight here. I had an hour before I started, but I wanted to get some schoolwork done first, and then I was working and…”
“You really need to eat better, Mr. Wescott. Come on. Let’s go to your condo so you can eat and tell me all about your day.” I knew he wouldn’t let me buy him dinner, so I didn’t bother to ask.
“Perfect. I’ll meet you there.”
It didn’t take us long to arrive. Zander waited for me, and we went up together. The whole time, I was wondering if Ross was home and was surprised Zander hadn’t mentioned it. I knew it made him uncomfortable to be around Ross and me at the same time. The place was quiet, though, the lights out except the one over the stove.
“Ross had a date after work,” Zander said. “I know I need to eat, but do you mind if I take a shower first? I feel gross after a long day.”
“Nope. Go for it.”
He stared at me for a moment, then slipped down the hallway. Once the bathroom door closed, I peeked in the fridge to see what I could find. I assumed Zander had purchased most of the food because Ross had a habit of eating out as much as he could. There were eggs, ham, onions, bell peppers, and cheese, so I pulled it all out. I made him an omelet and toast, which were ready right as he came into the room, wearing nothing but a pair of basketball shorts, the band of his boxer briefs sticking out the top of them.
“Why did you do that? You didn’t have to make me dinner.”
I shrugged. “I wanted to. Someone has to feed you.”
“Harrison…”
It was said softly, almost as if he couldn’t figure out how he felt, and like it was all so new to him. Still, I teased him, “You always say my name like you’re scolding me. If I was hungry, would you feed me?” He crossed his arms. “Exactly.”
“Exactly,” Zander playfully mocked before taking the plate and sitting at the breakfast bar.
I stood on the other side, watching him. He cut into the omelet and took a bite, then shoved another in, clearly starving.