Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
I bristled, the butterflies from earlier starting a war with me now. “I don’t care about losing weight. I’m healthy and active. I dance. I like myself the way I am.”
His pupils blew wide. “Oh shit. I didn’t mean… I wasn’t asking you if you were losing weight. I wanted to know what you do for fun.”
We stared at each other, my insides taking flight. Neither of us seemed to know what to do or say, and then we burst into laughter. It went on so long that my cheeks began to hurt. He set his cup down and fell back onto the sand, looking up at the stars. When he quieted, I did the same.
“I miss my family, even though they’re close,” I admitted. College was a whole new experience, and I was still trying to figure it all out.
“I miss Marcus, Park, and Dec. I know that sounds ridiculous. It’s just…”
When he didn’t continue, I asked, “Just what?”
“They’re my people. It’s hard to explain. Shit. I don’t know why I said that. I’m an idiot. Don’t tell anyone I said that.”
I frowned, my chest suddenly feeling slightly heavy. “Why would I tell anyone?” And honestly, why did it matter? There was nothing wrong with missing people.
“I don’t know…just, people talk. I don’t want to look weak or whatever.”
Wow. He seemed to care a lot about what people thought. He also didn’t want anyone to know how he felt, but he clearly needed to talk about it. I didn’t know why he’d chosen me, but I’d never felt so important.
“Who’s your favorite Power Ranger?” I asked, wanting to keep him talking. Maybe if I did, he would eventually feel more comfortable opening up to me.
We went from Power Rangers to other TV shows. He liked true crime but also loved cartoons from the 1990s. We talked about school and majors. We didn’t discuss anything emotional, nothing too deep, but it felt like we did, like I was getting a glimpse inside this man, and yet I couldn’t really tell who he was. I wasn’t sure he knew either.
He shared a lot about his exercising and how much weight he’d lost. His goals and lifting. I told myself it was mostly because he was studying to be a physical therapist, so of course physical activity would be important to him. Not that there was anything wrong with him having lost weight or wanting to lose weight. I just didn’t want him to think that’s where his worth lay.
I didn’t know how much time passed, but I did know I didn’t want this night to end. I felt a connection to him, wanted to get to know him more, thought maybe we could become good friends.
He was funny and charming and made me laugh. He talked a lot about his best friends, and I could tell how important they were to him.
I drank my beer, but he didn’t. Eventually we sat up again, and I brushed off the specks of sand stuck all over his back and in his hair. “You’re a mess.”
He shook his head, making sand fly everywhere, and both of us chuckled.
Our eyes met again, and as crazy as it sounded, I felt it in the air, this electric energy I couldn’t explain, making something inside me spark.
Well, go big or go home, right? I leaned in, hoping this wasn’t a mistake, that I was reading the signs right. He leaned in too, a small smile on his lips that I really craved a taste of.
Just before our mouths touched, I heard, “Yo! Corbin! What the fuck, dude?” in the distance. He jerked away and scrambled to his feet. Corbin. I hadn’t even asked him his name and hadn’t given him mine.
“I’m coming,” he called back, looking at the group of guys heading our way, and then at me. “I should go, but…this was nice. I had fun. I…” He rubbed a hand over his face, and just like that, turned and jogged toward the guys who totally looked like frat bros. Was he not out? But that didn’t make sense. One of the first things he’d said to me was that he was gay.
I watched until their shadows joined the partygoers, wishing I’d told him my name or asked for his number or something. Maybe he didn’t want to kiss me and just wanted to be friends. I was okay with that too. I liked him. Not that I knew him well, but that didn’t change the connection I’d felt.
I shoved to my feet, deciding this was an opportunity I wasn’t going to let slip through my fingers. I’d find him, ask for his number, and see if we could hang out sometime.
It didn’t take me long to spot him talking with the guys who’d come looking for him.