Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
I pressed Play on my phone, listening to the familiar intro music before Corbin’s voice broke through. He liked to talk, and always had something to say.
“Welcome to The Vers, where four best friends who rarely agree on anything give their versatile opinions about everything. I’m Corbin Erickson, The Charmer and the smartest, sexiest, and most fun out of the four of us.”
“Parker Hansley, The Romantic—and also, shut up, Corbin.”
“Marcus Alston, The Realist. Corbin is an idiot.”
“Declan Burns, The Loner, which is the most ridiculous nickname I’ve ever heard—almost as ridiculous as the name Corbin.”
“Fuck you,” Corbin replied.
“You’re not my type, buddy. Better luck next time.”
“Wait, you have a type?” Corbin asked him. “I thought you hated everyone but us.”
“Who said I didn’t hate you guys?” Declan teased, making me smile.
“You love us and you know it,” Parker added. “Buried beneath the surface, you, Declan Burns, are a sweetheart.”
“Yep, totally hate you guys. Also, excuse me while I vomit, and then can we choose a new nickname for me?”
“It’s been two years,” Marcus replied. “You’re stuck. Plus, you literally call yourself a loner.”
“Oooh!” Corbin said, “I think we should try and brainstorm new nicknames for Declan. The Grump?”
“Wait, isn’t that Marcus?” Parker laughed. “Oh! What about The Brooder?”
“Mr. Pouty Face?” Corbin suggested. Parker was still laughing, and I heard Marcus’s deep baritone joining in.
“First of all, fuck you all. Second, Marcus, control your friends.”
Despite the fact that they were teasing Declan, I could hear the smile in his voice. He loved these people. They meant the world to him, and that made me feel…weird. No, that wasn’t the right word. Curious? Jealous? Because even though I’d known him for ten years, even though I’d slept with him over and over, and hell, he’d even taken my virginity, I didn’t think Declan considered us friends. I did. But I was sure he didn’t. I was just some guy he had sex with sometimes.
“I’m not claiming them,” Marcus grumbled. “Also, this is getting boring. Are we going to get on with the show or what? I have shit to do.”
“It’s Sunday, jackass,” Corbin said. “Get a life, Marcus. Take a day off.”
“I’m literally fucking working right now—with you, I might add,” Marcus countered.
“Good point,” Corbin conceded. “I just figured being around me is so fun and all, it didn’t feel like work.”
They were all silent for about five beats before three different tones of laughter filled my ears. I smiled, able to tell which one belonged to Declan. His voice had always been a little husky, smoky and sexy.
“I hate you all,” Corbin said. “I have the worst friends ever. Your life would be boring without me—actually, your life is boring except when you’re with me.” He audibly pouted.
“Are we taking questions or just listening to Corbin speak all day?” Declan asked.
“Parker had a date Friday night,” Corbin said. “We should talk about that…”
Parker was in search of the one. His nickname—The Romantic—fit him, but from what I’d gathered from the podcast, he had the worst luck when it came to dating.
I closed my eyes as they began to talk about Parker’s latest disaster of a date. Every time Declan spoke, I smiled.
I fell asleep to the sound of his voice.
* * *
I took a car service to the apartment I shared with Neil. It was beautiful, overlooking the lights of the city, the kind of place I’d never even let myself dream of having when I grew up in Idaho. All I’d had was hope back then—of leaving home, of following my dream of becoming an actor, of coming out and having my parents’ support. I hadn’t thought I would, but they’d surprised me, leaving behind their old ways of thinking for their son. I was grateful every day that I had them.
I took the elevator up to the twelfth floor. I’d only found this apartment because of my friend Drake. We were both small-town boys, lost in a world that could very easily eat us alive, so we’d connected from the start. He lived two floors up and had let me know when an apartment became available, and I’d jumped at the chance. They didn’t stay on the market long, and even with a heads-up, I’d been lucky to get it.
When I got to my floor, I unlocked the door and let myself in. I was surprised to see the TV was on, the volume low. The living room and kitchen lights were bright, not turned off like we usually did before going to sleep.
I left my suitcase by the door, removed my shoes, turned everything off, and made my way to the bedroom, stripping as I went. Neil and I usually fucked like crazy after I got home, so I figured the easy access wasn’t a bad idea.
The lights were off there, a soft glow from outside casting a bit through the room. It wasn’t until I stepped up to my side of the bed that I saw it—the body there, one I thought I recognized as belonging to someone who was one of my few friends. He was in my spot, in my bed, in the home I shared with my boyfriend—well, ex-boyfriend now.