Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87015 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87015 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
“You okay?” Elliott asked, startling me.
“Yep. Fine. Just spacing off. You ready?” I stood in the kitchen, and he walked over to me. Elliott touched my hip, then put a hand around my waist and tugged me forward.
“I’m sorry.” He pressed a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth, then another and another as he made a trail to my neck. This was something else he’d been doing all week. He touched me all the time, kissed me like we were a real couple, with the same goals and dreams.
“Why are you sorry?” I asked, trying not to let my knees give out and collapse for a quick BJ before we headed out.
“Because this isn’t what you hoped for when it came to introducing your dad to your husband…well, I guess you never would’ve had to introduce him to your husband because he would’ve met him as your boyfriend. You know what I mean.”
True, it wasn’t what I’d hoped, but continuing to obsess about it wouldn’t change anything. “It’s fine.”
“It’s really not. You’ll be perfect today, though. You’re so fucking sexy, it’s going to be hard to keep my hands off you.”
I smiled. Ugh. Must. Stop. Liking. Being. Praised. “I’m literally wearing jeans and a Beach Buns hoodie.”
“You’re literally the sexiest guy I’ve ever seen.” He swatted my ass. Elliott seemed to like doing that. “Let’s go, gorgeous. I’ll be on my best behavior all day. Your dad will love me. I’m great with parents.”
“Have you ever met the parents of a boyfriend?” I asked as we went for the door.
“Nope. Never had a boyfriend. But parents are people, and I’m good with them. Vaughn’s parents adore me.”
“The best friend you used to fuck?”
He gave me a knowing smirk. “Do I detect a hint of jealousy?”
“No. Absolutely not. Why would I be jealous?” Yes, I hate him and I shouldn’t, especially considering I’ve never even met him. Something to file away for later.
We were on the way in my car when Elliott asked, “You’ve really never hooked up with any of The Vers guys?”
“Nope. We don’t work that way. They’re my family. I mean, when we were teenagers, Marcus gave me and Corbin our first kisses, but it wasn’t sexual. It was just because I was a sad, queer boy who wanted to kiss other boys. I was also a little nerdy. It was before my secretly-blow-the-jocks phase.”
“All of them?”
“A good portion of them. They were all super masc and not into dudes at all—their words, not mine—but a mouth is a mouth, so mine worked fine. I was a kid and just knew I liked cock, so I went with it.”
“Men suck.”
“Yes, we do.” I waggled my eyebrows, pretending we were talking about blowing people instead of what I knew he meant.
“Do you know where any of them live? We should totally egg or toilet-paper their houses or something.”
“What!” I swerved, then jerked back into my lane when there was a loud honk. “We can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s wrong? Because we’re adults? Because…” Why did the idea actually sound fun? “No. Stop it. I’m not a kid anymore. I don’t need revenge on high school guys who haven’t been on top since they graduated.”
Elliott shrugged. “Just an idea.”
I was quiet for a moment, before saying, “There was this one guy in particular. He’d been a complete asshole. I’ve run into him a few times, and he still is. He thinks he’s better than everyone else. He made me feel like shit about what we used to do together.” Instead of a teenage bully, he was now a thirtysomething bully who’d been horrible to me. “We can’t toilet-paper his house, though.” Oh my God. Why did I want to do that? I shouldn’t even still be talking about this.
“I’m pretty sure we could.”
“What if we got caught?”
“Then we’d be very embarrassed?”
“Dude. Stop. We’re not harassing my high school nemesis. You really are a troublemaker!”
“Just defending my husband’s honor. I hate bullies, and I hate homophobes. Sounds like this guy could be both.”
He definitely was, but still. “I’m not talking about this anymore—or entertaining the idea. I’m better than him.”
“You are, and you still would be if you toilet-papered his house. Just know the option is on the table.”
I smiled. The idea was ridiculous, and I knew I wouldn’t really do it. But it was amusing to think about. Sometimes Elliott was so surprising. “How old are you?” I asked, realizing I didn’t know.
“Thirty-four.”
My first thought was disbelief that he was thirty-four and never had a real boyfriend where he’d met their parents, but then I remembered I was basically the same age and alone too.
“Why?” Elliott asked.
“Just thinking about two guys in their thirties causing mischief, and I realized I didn’t know exactly how old you are. I’m thirty-three.”