Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
So, he turned back to the table he’d rather break his thumbs than return to.
“Better watch your fucking step, T,” Ducky said as he reached the table. “You think you’re a big shit, trying to be an ally or whatever the fuck, but all you’re doing is helping poison our town.”
“Actually, Duck, I’m just grabbing my stuff and going. Some of us gotta work today.” He reached across Randy and grabbed his cell and keys from the table. Without a goodbye, he turned his back on the people he’d known his whole life and strode toward the exit, head high, trying to ignore the curious stares from onlookers.
“Watch your step, T,” Ducky called out again before he shoved the door open.
Fuck him and fuck the others too.
Tate stepped outside, inhaling the fresh summer air. Liam had taken off already, and Tate only had twenty minutes before he had to return to the job site. There wasn’t enough time to swing by the studio. He’d have to settle for reminding himself Liam was a grown-ass man who could take care of himself.
And he’d be seeing him later that night, where he could spend hours checking over every delicious inch of the man. Maybe with his tongue to be extra certain he was okay.
His phone chirped, and he glanced at it to find a text from the man who’d invaded his brain.
Stop worrying about me. I’m good.
A smile curled his lips as another text chirped.
So fucking proud of you, Tate.
Well, damn.
CHAPTER TWENTY
LIAM LOCKED THE studio door behind him, then started the quick quarter-mile walk to the bakery down the street. Tate had mentioned last week that apple pie with a giant scoop of vanilla ice cream was his favorite dessert. Tonight, Liam planned to surprise him with exactly that. He picked up ice cream earlier in the day, and since he didn’t have the skills or space to bake a pie, he ordered one from the local bakery.
His calves twinged as he walked, sore from the six classes he’d taught that day. Thank God he had three interviews set up next week for additional teachers. He was sore from head to toe, not just his legs. Over the last week, he’d ramped up his workouts to make sure he was in the best shape to teach his students, and now he was paying for the few months he’d taken off to move and set up his studio.
Then there was the ache in his ass. The one that had him grinning like a fool as he remembered the furious way Tate had taken him last night. They’d both been so busy they hadn’t seen each other for a few days, and, apparently, that was too long for Tate. He’d been like a man possessed from the moment he walked into Liam’s apartment.
He shivered at the memory of Tate tearing off his clothes and fucking him right there on the floor by the door.
God, it had been good.
Liam glanced around. If he wasn’t careful, he’d be walking down Main Street with a tent in his shorts like some kind of pervert. Just what he needed when a third of the town already saw him as a deviant.
About halfway to the bakery, he spotted a woman walking—stumbling—on the sidewalk toward him.
He frowned but continued moving forward. After a few seconds, she dropped to her knees and vomited in the grass on the side of the road.
“Oh crap.” Liam rushed toward her. “Ma’am? Do you need some help?” He stood over her as she heaved and unloaded her stomach onto the ground.
Gross.
When she finished, she stared up at him with dilated pupils and bloodshot whites of her eyes.
The sour stench was hard to ignore, but he tried his best. “Here,” he said, reaching for the small backpack containing his phone, wallet, and water bottle. Grabbing the water, he crouched and held it out to her after uncapping it. “I haven’t had any yet. Please take it.”
“Twenty bucks,” she slurred as she took the bottle from him. Her unsteady hands caused some to slosh over the rim of the plastic bottle.
“Excuse me?”
“You want me to suck your dick? It’ll cost you twenty bucks.”
“Oh, no. No, that’s not… I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. I don’t want… anything else.” Was she insane? She’d just thrown up all over the side of the road, and now she was propositioning him?
“Huh. You that new dance teacher?” Her stringy blonde hair needed to be washed at least a day ago. Despite being mid-summer, her skin was sickly pale, and her eyes had heavy purple rings beneath them.
“I am. My name is Liam.”
She guzzled half the bottle of water, swaying as she tipped her head back. Liam reached out and caught her shoulder so she wouldn’t fall over.
“I got a boy ’bout your age.”