Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 82415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
“Scoot over, E,” Shaw said. “I’ll get drinks, you check dinner.”
“Deal.” We worked well together.
Dinner went smoothly from there. Danny and Shaw didn’t interact a lot, but they were fine. Shaw and Will teased each other relentlessly, and Shaw acted… Well, yeah, I was confused as to how we weren’t boyfriends, if we weren’t boyfriends. He was constantly touching me, and helping me, or would walk by and press a kiss to my forehead. He was so damn full of love I knew he wanted to give but was too afraid to.
And Christ, did I fucking want it.
I was maybe more than halfway in love with him already.
After dessert, Will said he had to head out. I expected Danny to say the same, but was thrown when it was Shaw who said it instead.
“You don’t want to stay?” I asked. We hadn’t done the spend-the-night thing yet, but I was hoping he would chill for a bit.
“Nah. I need to be up early. I should go.”
“Okay.” I tried to hide my disappointment.
“Good seeing ya again, man,” Shaw said to Danny, who returned the sentiment. With one more look and smile at me, Shaw and Will left.
“You’re in love with him,” Danny said softly. “Feels different from what you felt for me, doesn’t it?”
“It does.” There was no reason to deny it. At least not that it was different from my feelings for Danny.
“He’s crazy about you, Elijah.”
Is he? I wanted to ask, but part of me knew the answer to that. I knew Shaw cared about me. I also knew he was afraid of that, and there were no promises his feelings for me would prevail.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Shaw
I hated seeing my parents when they were fighting. It was like I reverted back to being a child, one who needed them, who looked to them for guidance, to set an example, but what they did was fight, use me as a referee, or each would try and pit me against the other. You’d think after all this time, I’d say no when one of them needed me, but I didn’t. I always went.
I sighed as I sat in my car in front of the house I was raised in. Richie’s family still lived next door. They were still perfect. They still smiled and waved at my messy parents while talking about them behind their backs. I used to see Richie there too, but I hadn’t for years. He had moved to LA. He was in advertising and doing fabulous according to what his parents told mine.
The longer I sat out there and stalled, the longer it would be until I could go home, so I got out of the car, silently cursing myself for being there in the first place. I couldn’t believe they weren’t back together by now anyway. It usually took a week tops, but there had been times when they spent a few weeks or a month or two apart.
I knocked on the door and waited for someone to answer. For a moment, Elijah popped into my head, and I wondered if he knocked at his parents’ house or if he just went in. What was normal for people to do when they moved out? I never felt that closeness to my parents I figured you were supposed to feel. Maybe there was something wrong with me. Maybe that was also why I didn’t believe in love.
Is that true? Do you really not believe in love?
The door pulled open, and my mom stood there. We’d always been told we looked exactly alike. You’re your mama’s son, all right! I’d heard that more times than I could count, but I didn’t see it. Sure, we had the same bright green eyes and dark brown hair. Hers was tied up in a ponytail, a few wispy strands falling down.
“Hey, baby. It’s good to see you.” She hugged me, and I returned it. My family and I did show affection to each other, but it all felt stilted.
“It’s good to see you too.”
“Your father should be here in a few minutes. You don’t even know what I’ve been through with him! He’s making me crazy. Maybe you can talk some sense into him.”
We went inside, and I sat on the couch. Why did I have to be the one to talk sense into him? To either of them? No matter what I did or didn’t say, they’d fight, then get back together, then do it all over again. Wash, rinse, repeat.
“Don’t be like your father, Shaw. I hope when you find a nice young woman—”
“Or man,” I cut her off, even though I didn’t plan on finding a nice young anyone. My chest burned, and I rubbed a hand over my heart. There was already a nice young man in my life, and I was insistent on only hanging out with him.