Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“Playing?”
“You know what I fuckin’ meant, Josiah,” he scolded, walking around me to see my face. “Don’t push me right now when I can see all the damage.”
I smiled at him. “Fine.”
“Okay, so the doctor said we don’t have to cover the stitches, but just quick soap and make sure you stay turned away from the water.”
“Got it.”
“And today we have to start with the compresses if it’s sore.”
I nodded, unable to speak suddenly with his hands on my bare skin and his big beautiful eyes full of concern for me.
“I’m gonna go take a super-fast shower, and then I’ll be back to help you put everything back on.”
I cleared my throat. “I should learn to do it myself, don’t you think?”
“No. Why? I’ll pick you up in the morning when we get home, and I’ll take it off at night. Don’t be stupid.”
Why would I argue? Well, because I was me. “If I were Hayden, I wouldn’t like that.”
He scoffed. “You’re my partner, idiot. Everyone knows that comes first.”
It didn’t, though, but to push was stupid.
“I…forgot,” he began, pensive.
I met his bright-blue gaze.
“I forgot what it was like to be around you without all the extra crap.”
He meant all the tension, sexual and everything else.
Our third year, living together in Chicago, we’d both started being careful, watching what we said, how we said it, and definitely aware of the other person’s space. But before that, it had been just us with an easy comradery between us, a seamless flow of give and take. And I’d known he wanted me, and he’d known that went both ways, but there was also more because we were friends first. In the ensuing mess of moving in together, then parting ways, then the forced separation as partners, we’d lost the closeness, but also, amazingly, the hurt and pain. We’d wounded each other, a lot, and somehow the time apart had rendered that unimportant. I loved him, but I also wanted the best for him, and it didn’t ache like being stabbed in the heart with a knife anymore. I was still not the best choice for him. I was still broken in many ways, and him having to mend my damaged heart wasn’t fair. But I would hold this part of him, my friend.
“We fit again,” he told me, and I saw the indigo in his eyes that made me think of the lines in turquoise. “And I remember how good that is.”
“Same,” I agreed, and smiled at him.
“But really, are you eating at all?”
“What?”
“I mean, you look great, Jed, all the definition is amazing, you’re all carved and shit, but you’re what, twenty pounds underweight?”
“I stopped cooking.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re not there to eat it,” I groused at him, slipping by, heading for the bathroom. “Now go take your damn shower.”
“We’ll go back to you cooking,” he said on his way out.
“How is that a good deal for me?”
I loved hearing him laugh and was very glad he didn’t see the boner I got in the shower just thinking about it again in my head.
Knowing better helped nothing. Like I knew better than to trust him to jump out of the shower and throw on his clothes. Just his hair took forever. There were a lot of products that went in to make the artful mane look effortless. He also had moisturizers for his face and lotion that made him smell like vanilla and sandalwood, or pistachios and lime with a hint of caramel. And there wasn’t just one tube, jar, or pump bottle. I knew from rooming with him that the whole process was some sacred alchemy he did that when he emerged from a shower, you wanted to press your nose to his skin and hair.
Since my own self-care regimen consisted of all-in-one shampoo and conditioner, deodorant, occasionally lotion, and moisturizer since I did sometimes shave the stubble, I was done, sitting on my bed, waiting for him for what seemed like hours. And since I didn’t have a lot of patience to begin with, I got antsy. Plus, I needed to take a pill since my shoulder was twinging. It didn’t feel like an ice pick was being driven into my joint yet, but it would get worse soon if the medicine didn’t hit my bloodstream.
Going to the kitchen with my supplies, I didn’t think about being shirtless until I put the bottle of water down and looked around.
“Sorry,” I said quickly, and was about to turn for the arch that led down the hall to my bedroom.
“Oh,” Angie said, her words stopping me, her playful leer making me scowl. “Well, lookit you, Josiah Redeker. What a gorgeous specimen of manhood you are.”
I flipped her off because we were friends now.
She laughed hard, then walked over to me, Davis and Hayden right behind her. “This is quite the wound, my friend.”