Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 65346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
“Has it really been six years and a day since you’ve been here?”
“I moved to New York the day before your birthday. Six years ago.”
“Damn, and I was just throwing that ‘six’ out at random.” I huffed a laugh. That wasn’t entirely true. I knew damn well it had been six years but I wasn’t about to pull out my calendar for him. “Well, you’ve clearly always had perfect timing.”
“I don’t know about that,” he said. “If I did, I think I would have shown up sooner.”
My brow arched and my face cracked, revealing my thoughts without needing very many words at all.
Then why didn’t you, Rex? Damn it. Why didn’t you?
4
Rex Madison
Benji looked exactly how I remembered him and, at the same time, completely different from the boy who had taught me so much about myself years ago. He still had the same bright eyes that never failed to lighten up a room, and he still carried himself with his shoulders high and chin proud, even when I could tell all he wanted to do was bury his hand in the sand.
There was a shadow of something else in his eyes. He turned his gaze down at the hay-covered floor, breaking eye contact and leaving me wondering if this was a good idea after all.
“You’ve been good?” I asked, trying to break the glacier between us. Electra gave a gentle whinny before clopping away to the trough of food.
“I’ve been all right.” Benji leaned against a wooden post, the brushes clinking together. A midafternoon ray of sunlight cut through an opening in the stable’s roof, cutting across his face like the brush of some masterful Renaissance painter.
“All right? I haven’t seen you in six and some years and you’re going to give me the equivalent of signing ‘HAGS, KIT’ in my yearbook.”
“HAGS?”
“Have a great summer. Yeah, I know, I thought it was a slur at first, too.”
Benji laughed at that. Short but sweet, making me want more almost immediately. “KIT is what I should have done with you.”
“That means ‘Keep Insider Trading,’ right?”
My turn to laugh. “Yes, that and ‘keep in touch.’ It’s interchangeable.”
He kicked at some imaginary rock on the ground, his gaze flitting from me to the field behind me. “A lot’s happened since we last talked. Since Costa Rica.”
There it was. The trip. A life-changing trip that altered the course of my happiness and opened my eyes to what I truly wanted. I had temporarily escaped my dad’s oppressive shadow, and with Benji’s help, I found myself.
It only took me a few days back home for me to lose myself all over again, losing Benji in the process.
And it seemed like time hadn’t healed this wound, not with the way he looked at me. He was angry. Same way I felt with how things shook out.
“How about you?” Benji asked.
How about me. “Where do I even start…”
“Let’s start with why you’re here.” Benji crossed his arms. His biceps bulged with the movement. Since when did little Benji turn into built Benji? I remember the day we first met, back when we were teens, and I thought I’d have an impossible time telling the difference between him and Dusty. They were the same exact lanky build with the same dimpled cheeks and bright eyes.
Not anymore. Sometime between our trip to Costa Rica and now, Benji must have found a passionate love for protein shakes and bench-presses, changing him from a twink to a twunk—the muscular version of his formerly skinny but still small-framed self.
I shrugged. “It’s a messy story.”
“My favorite kind.” Benji narrowed his gaze and kept eye contact.
I didn’t want to talk about it. The shit hit the fan only two days ago. Everything still felt fresh, like my cuts were all still bleeding. I went from feeling like I had the world in the palm of my hand to having my entire world thrown into a trash disposal. One second, I was living in the most expensive building in all of New York, and the next, I was staring at a negative bank account and wondering where the fuck I was going to sleep that night.
“My dad and I got into an argument.” And the gold medal for oversimplification goes to… me. “I needed a place to lay low for a little, and your brother offered the guesthouse.”
Benji arched a brow. Ever since we were kids, he had an innate ability to cut right through whatever bullshit I was serving up on a steaming plate. Was he going to dig further? Would I have opened up more?
Didn’t matter. He shrugged and turned, leaving me there with my jaw half-open. “All right,” he said, not even turning around. “Hope things get sorted for you.”
“Hey, wait up.”
Although the view of Benji from the back side was something I wouldn’t mind memorizing, I wanted to talk to his front.