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)
By the time we get back to Metropolis, I’m beat. I take a quick shower, jack off, and then fall onto my bed in a pair of boxer trunks.
I hardly open my eyes when I hear a sound from the doorway. “You should invite that guy over,” Evan says.
“Nah. I’m good for tonight. Spent a little extra time in the shower.” I open my eyes and look at him. He has one hand on each side of the doorjamb, and a far-off look in his eyes. “What’s up?”
“Nothing…I was just thinking about what you said earlier, about getting back out there. I think you’re right.”
“I’m always right,” I reply. “You need to do what’s best for you, Ev. If it’s not what you want, don’t do it. I just don’t want you to hold yourself back in any way because of that prick or because you don’t trust yourself. You’re smart as hell, sexy as hell, and have a good head on your shoulders.”
“I know.” He walks into the room and lies beside me. I run my fingers through his blond hair because I can always tell how much it comforts him. “I really do know it. In a lot of ways, I feel like I’m a totally different person from the Evan that was with Peter.”
“You are.” I’ve seen the changes in him, the growth. He should be really fucking proud of himself.
“That feels good,” Evan says.
“Spoiled.”
“Well-liked,” he counters, and I chuckle. My eyes flutter because I’m tired as hell and have to get up early for work.
“I’ll let you go to bed,” Evan says but stays for a moment while I continue to play with his hair. Then he gets up, kisses my forehead, and says, “Night, Frankie.”
“Night, Evan.”
He turns out the light and closes the door behind him.
3
Evan
I greet one of my regulars at the coffee shop before making her usual order—a cappuccino and a cheese bagel.
There are three people in line, so my coworker Bradley steps up to help me while I start preparing orders.
An intense burning sensation swirls in my chest as my anxiety creeps up on me.
It’s not as bad as it was in the beginning, when I first started working at the Feisty Fox Coffeehouse.
Back then, I was scared as fuck that I wouldn’t figure this shit out. Before I started working here, I never understood anything about making lattes, mochas, or cappuccinos. I’d drink them, but that was about it.
I didn’t need a job right away after my breakup with Peter, as I still had some modeling money from an ad campaign I’d done right before I found out what an ass Peter really was. But my therapist thought it’d be good for me to get out since I’m prone to depression, and spending all day in a condo by myself wasn’t exactly doing me any favors in that department.
Peter never had an issue with me spending my days on my own, of course. If anything, he encouraged it. And now I know why. It made it easier for him to manipulate me…to feed me his lies without ever encountering someone who might make me question them.
Fortunately, I don’t struggle with it the way I used to. While I was with Peter, I was working to get it under control, trying out different meds and seeing a therapist. But since I met Frankie, he’s been there whenever I’ve needed a friend. He’s driven me to my therapy appointments and picked up my meds for me when I’ve needed a refill. And I know every time he asks me how my day is that he’s really checking in on me…making sure that I’m all right.
I’m not sure he can ever know how much those little things mean to me. Just knowing he cares.
As the day comes to an end, Derek swings by.
“Hey, man,” he says, approaching the counter. He’s clearly cut his hair, keeping his blond bangs a little longer than usual. He wears a tight T-shirt that is so well-fitting that he might as well not be wearing a shirt at all. Reminds me of something I’d wear.
“I’m taking you to the leather shop today to pick out some harnesses for that leather party at the end of the month,” he continues, “and I want extra cream all up in my latte—if you know what I mean.”
I’d laugh if I wasn’t so surprised about his comment about the leather shop. “Did we say today?”
I slide my hand between my apron and jeans and pull out my phone to check my schedule, which I’d be lost without.
“You’re not going to find it in there,” he says. “I didn’t tell you about this excursion. I’m abducting you, and we’re going whether you want to or not. I know for a fact that Frankie is working with Jackson this evening, so you’re all out of excuses.”