Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 129131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
“Yes. For real. He’s Mr. Ninety-Six Percent,” Riley tells Arielle. “We started talking, not realizing who we were talking to.”
Arielle thinks for a moment, then grins, looking at me with newfound realization. “Noah Mark Daniels . . .”
“Yeah, was trying to do QA-QC for the app, so I signed up. I didn’t . . . well, I didn’t expect to meet anyone. Let alone Riley.”
“I so need the full story on this,” Arielle says, “because I was there that first night. And I remember seeing the way your eyes lit up reading about this hottie named Mark. When you didn’t say too much about it afterward, I figured you’d dropped him. But now . . . I’m not walking out the door until I get the details.”
“Can it wait until I get my clothes back on?” I ask, gesturing to my toga. “This is not my best look.”
“No, I think this is something I should’ve known a long time ago,” Arielle says, and I can hear the faintest sense of hurt blooming from our keeping this from her.
“Arielle, I’m commando under here.”
Raffy looks up and barks. “Rowf!”
I cup my cock through the blanket, not trusting it to be enough if Raffy decides he’s hungry. And he’s always hungry. “Can one of you feed the dog too? I don’t trust him not to bite my ass or other important parts.”
Riley rubs at the exposed part of my chest. “I like your important parts.”
“Gag!” Arielle interrupts loudly, drawing our attention to ask again, “So this is for real?”
“Yeah,” I tell Arielle, but I’m looking into Riley’s eyes. “It’s real.”
* * *
“Well, I still can’t believe it,” Arielle says a half-hour later as we sit around the kitchen table. At least we’re all dressed now. “I mean, Noah . . . charming? Funny? You sure you didn’t hire a social media manager, Bro?”
I take a sip of coffee, trying not to glare. “I am charming and funny.”
There’s a moment of utter stillness and then Arielle laughs. “Now that’s funny.”
But she’s putting the pieces together. “So you messaged Mark that night, and you’ve been talking ever since? Dating and going out?”
“About that—” I start, thinking now is the perfect time to ask Arielle about her own dating escapades. She’s giving me a hard time, but she’s no saint either. Though she’s not dating my best friend. Or at least I hope she’s not.
Riley cuts me off, giving me a subtle head shake. “Yes, it’s been a few weeks now."
Okay, I guess this isn’t the time to ask about Arielle and Eli. But that time will come. Soon.
“Why didn’t you say something?” Arielle asks.
“I wasn’t sure how you’d take it,” Riley admits from the stove, where she’s scrambling some eggs. “I mean, guys have bros before hos, and we . . . you know.”
“Chicks before dicks,” Arielle finishes for Riley. “But that’s only if it’s casual, fuck-buddy shit. Not this.”
“Sorry,” Riley tells Arielle, and Arielle nods, accepting it. Arielle turns to me, and I offer a chin dip. That’s all I’m giving because I’m not sorry. None of this went to plan, but I wouldn’t change a thing. Arielle’s left brow goes up, and she holds my gaze for a solid three seconds, but finally, she dips her chin too.
We’re good.
Arielle knows everything.
“When did you start growing out your landing strip again, Riley?” she asks casually, digging into the plate of eggs Riley sets in front of her like she’s talking about the weather.
“Wait . . . what?” I ask, just shocked. I swear Arielle’s doing it on purpose, trying to keep me off balance and off guard.
“What, Noah?” Arielle asks with a laugh. “You think I haven’t seen this girl’s tits and vajayjay before? We held each other’s hands the first time we got waxed. Like this, us two.”
She crosses her fingers, and I suddenly realize how messy this could get. Arielle’s being cool about it right now, but she’s giving me a very clear warning.
Pussy before peen, is that a thing?
Even when there’s blood involved?
"Oh, one more question,” Arielle says around a mouthful of eggs. “When are you going to tell River?” Riley and I are silent, looking at each other uncertainly. Arielle shouts, eggs going everywhere, “Does he already know? Did you tell him before you told me?”
Riley reaches out to Arielle’s arm. “No, he doesn’t know. God, I wouldn’t tell him before you.”
Arielle looks to me for confirmation. “I haven’t told him yet,” I say, shaking my head.
“Shit, you’re gonna get murdered, Bro.” Arielle sounds a little gleeful about that if you ask me. “If you want my advice, tell him. The sooner, the better. And might I suggest with clothes on and not with Riley’s hand on your dick? Personally, I was thankful for that. A little coverage to protect my eyes from seeing your junk. But River? I don’t think he’ll feel quite the same way.”