Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
“Who?” I obliged, my gaze fixed on my screen as I retied my hair with the rubber band.
“Marlon.”
That got my attention. I gave him the bug-eyed, gobsmacked expression that statement deserved. “Why? You don’t even like Marlon.”
He winced. “I know. But he caught me off guard and I didn’t know how to say no.”
“It’s easy…no,” I deadpanned.
“I tried that. His persistence won the day. I figured I’d go out with him once and give him the full me treatment.” Holden gestured at his fancy cloak and shrugged. “It didn’t work.”
“What happened?”
“It was a rocky start, but the second I brought up the new quantum discovery at Princeton, it became so much easier. Conversation flowed, the food tasted better, and there was wine. Lots of wine.” He peeked over at our friends in the kitchen and whispered, “Do not say a word, but…we had sex.”
My lips twisted in a universal “ew” expression. “With Marlon? Really?”
Holden inclined his head and if I wasn’t mistaken, he blushed. “Hand job, and it was very good.”
I shrugged, grateful that the low-key crush I’d had on Holden years ago had finally faded. There was no spark between us. Too bad. It would have made life so much easier if we clicked—romantically speaking. I liked sex, but I hated dating…and talking to strangers. Holden was good at that sort of thing.
But darn it, he could do better than Marlon.
“Marlon is so…Marlon.”
“Relax, Tommy. It’s not like I’m gonna marry the guy.” He snorted and pointed at my screen. “What are you doing?”
“Oh, um…work. Abrams is breathing over my shoulder for this exam.”
Holden growled. “His wit’s as thick as a Tewkesbury mustard.”
“Shakespeare?” I asked, fingers flying on my keyboard.
“Well done, my dear fellow. Henry IV, Part Two, Act Two, Scene Four.” He dropped his faux British accent and continued in a serious voice. “Abrams knows you’re a student too. He’s taking advantage of you.”
“He’s right, Tommy. You need to stick up for yourself,” Asher interjected, reclaiming his seat by the window.
“I know, I know, but I’m almost done now. Just one more read-through.” I raked my fingers through my hair and dislodged the rubber band, sending my hair flying into my face.
I pushed the stray locks aside to no avail. My bushy mop was a riotous mess, not easily tamed. I tugged another rubber band from my wrist and was about to secure the fluffy bit on top of my head again when a booming voice called out from across the room.
“OMG. Is that an actual rubber band? Tommy, honey, you are in need of my service.”
I blinked as Jase skirted the sofa sectional with one arm on Lincoln’s shoulder. “Um…hi, Jase.”
Jase was Lincoln’s other dad. His ultra-fabulous dad.
I bumped into him occasionally when Chet hosted meetings. He was a good guy. When Lincoln took an interest in science, Jase made a point of befriending Chet, Sam’s new husband and our former roommate, and getting to know Topher, George, Asher, Holden, and me. Jase and Sam had divorced years ago, but had remained friends for the sake of coparenting…and because they liked each other.
I could see why. They were both very likable. Sam was a sporty type who refereed professional football games, while Jase was a tall, willowy hairdresser with pale skin, raven hair, and pretty green eyes.
He gaped at me with wide-eyed horror as he fluffed the poof of hair over my brow.
“Oh, honey. What are you doing Saturday afternoon?”
“Nothing yet. Why?” I pressed Save.
“Terrific. Your appointment is at three o’clock.”
“Huh?” File sent.
“Meet me at the salon. I’ll take care of the rest.” He turned on his heel and steered his son away before I could open my mouth. “Come on, Linc. Give Holden his hat and let’s vamoose. These men have important things to discuss, and you have school tomorrow.”
The round of good-byes happened in a flurry. I was still blinking like a vampire who’d lost track of time at sunrise when Sam walked Jase and Linc out and Asher called the meeting to order.
“What just happened here?” I whispered.
“You’re getting your hair cut on Saturday.” Holden adjusted the feather in his cap and shot a serious sideways glance at me. “And don’t even think about canceling.”
I rolled my eyes, tuning into a conversation about the newest data from the Mars rover.
I was definitely going to cancel.
I forgot to cancel.
Shocker.
I must have been well on my way to becoming an absentminded professor because Jase’s offer-slash-command seriously just…slipped my mind. Until the receptionist from Stylin’ Tea left me a lilting reminder message and a slight change of plans.
“Your appointment is at three o’clock tomorrow, Mr. Hartwell, and we cannot wait to meet you! Quick update…Jase won’t be your style guru. So sorry. He has pressing business to attend to, but never fear. He’s left you in Noah’s capable and very talented hands. See you tomorrow! Ciao!”