Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
We just clicked, and we haven’t looked back since. He makes me laugh. I love how he looks at the world, even though he’s been through some heavy shit. How he gets his ass on the karaoke stage any chance he can. It doesn’t matter that he’s really fucking bad. I admire the hell out of his tenacity and love of life.
And I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that it feels good being there for him, having his trust the way I do.
“Yes, I know. You’ve told me. I’d still like to meet your friend, mijo,” Mom replies, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“We’ll see.” I don’t know why I haven’t taken Evan home. There’s no real reason for me not to, but something has always held me back. “Okay, I’m out. Have fun, kids.” I give them each a hug good-bye before heading out to my Honda and making the forty-five-minute trip to Midtown.
I check the time and realize Evan is still at work for a little over an hour, so I drop my car off at Metropolis and walk to the coffeehouse where he works. Little bastard always seems to get me down there. I spent half his shift with him the other day when he’d asked me to come.
He looks up from foaming a drink when I walk in and grins. It’s a knock-out fucking smile. Evan is definitely gorgeous and exactly my type—sexy, little twink with blond hair, hazel doe-eyes that can basically weasel anything out of me, and perfect fucking teeth. Yeah, it sounds funny to mention someone’s teeth, but anyone who’s seen Evan’s smile knows what I mean. “Hey, you. I didn’t expect you here tonight. Left your parents’ house early.”
“Yeah, they had a work party thing tonight I didn’t know about.”
“Sit down. I’ll get you a drink,” he says, and I do. A few minutes later, he brings me a cup. “Vanilla latte, extra shot and whip, just how you like it.”
“Thanks, Ev.”
“No problem,” he replies before getting back to work. I play around on Grindr, sending a few messages back and forth with a bottom that tells me all the dirty things he wants to do to me, and drink my coffee while I wait for Evan to finish his shift. When he’s done, he plops down on the seat beside me and leans over to look at my phone. “Oh, who’s the twink?”
“Some guy with a sexy mouth who really wants to blow me, he says.”
“Oh my God. Are you going to ditch me tonight for a blowjob?” he asks.
“Wouldn’t you?” I tease. “Who doesn’t want their dick sucked?”
Evan crosses his arms and pretends to pout. “I’m hungry, and I wanted Valentino’s.”
Shit. He knows I can’t say no to him when he pouts. “You’re killing me, Ev. I haven’t had a good blowjob in like…”
“A week and a half. It’s only been a week and a half since that one hookup came over, and we haven’t had Valentino’s in like a month!”
I reach out and ruffle his hair, which makes his fucking eyes roll back every time, then pull him close and press a kiss to his forehead. “Fine. You win. I’ll turn down getting my dick sucked for pizza, but you owe me.”
“You know I’m giving you shit. You can meet up with him, and I can bring food home and meet you there later.”
“I know you’re teasing me, but it’s fine. I’m sure someone will be around later, unless I just take matters into my own hand.” I wink. “And what about you? It’s okay to enjoy yourself. Get out there and meet someone—to date or hook up with. Whatever you want. It’s been a while now since Peter. Don’t let him keep you down.”
Evan looks down, his cheeks tinged pink. “I know.”
I worry about Evan…that he’s afraid to let himself get close to anyone because of how Peter hurt him or afraid to put himself out there at all. I’m not sure if he feels like all men will treat him the way Peter did, if he doesn’t trust himself or what, but it’s the last thing I want for him.
“Come on. Let’s go eat.” I nudge him out of the seat. He stands; I do the same. We walk to Valentino’s and inhale a large double pepperoni. Afterward, we head back to Metropolis, get changed, and then go to Flex, the popular Midtown gym, to work out.
“Are you and Jackson meeting to play racquetball in the morning?” Evan asks me on our way home.
“Yeah, I think so. I’m going to text him and figure it out.” It’s become our thing. Once in a while, we try to get a game in before or after work. I kick his ass ninety percent of the time and tease him about being too old.