Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 135792 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135792 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Cy’s questions—when did that happen and how did you take care of the wound—rang in his head, creating a distant echo. Liv stepped in, answering them all as he piled his bowl high with various toppings. He then picked up a wooden instrument shaped like a tiny barrel on a stick and eyed it with suspicion.
“What is this for?”
Ezra, who’d already settled by the table with a bowl of his own, stood up and took it from him before dipping it in the jar of honey. “Tell me when to stop,” he said and used the tool to gather honey and then pour it over Liv’s bowl in Instagram-worthy swirls.
Liv’s eyes shone as he stared at the now-glossy fruit in his dish, but when he refused to tell Ezra that he had enough, their host made the decision for him.
“Hell yeah,” Liv said and proceeded to mix everything up into pale gruel.
“I also have chocolate sauce,” Dex offered, but Liv was already trying the food and relaxed into the chair with a moan so suggestive Knox pressed his thighs together to contain the sudden jolt in his balls.
This morning had fucked him up, and he didn’t fucking know how to handle this new reality.
"Can you pour me some?" Knox asked, reaching for his bowl, but then Cyborg grabbed his chin and forced him to look back at the wound.
"We need to deal with this first, so stop moving."
And Knox did. In fact, he was so taken aback by Cyborg's confident tug that he sat still in confused silence, feeling as helpless as when Liv had held him by the wrists.
The guy broke into his personal space as if it was his God-given right, and in any other situation Knox’s first response would have been to lash out. But he couldn’t. Not against the guy who came over to help him. Cyborg's presence was stoic and confident. It made Knox simmer down right away, obedient like a well-trained dog. Maybe it was because he needed to accept the other guy’s superiority and expertise, given the circumstances?
Cyborg’s good eye, pale gray and intense, met his for way longer than necessary, as if rules of regular male-male contact did not apply to him. Knox stilled, feeling his heart speed up, but not because of his illness. He was… what? Curious? Flattered? Interested?
He’d never given much thought to the possibility of other men finding him attractive. Such things didn’t happen to guys like him—average, masculine dudes just minding their own business. Sure, he wanted to be considered good-looking, took care of himself, tried to dress well, trained to be good in fights and worked hard to not be some broke-ass loser. So women would pick him over other men.
But to a gay guy… was he hot?
Liv slapped Cyborg’s hand away from Knox’s face, turning toward them so abruptly his knee poked Knox’s, setting it on fire. “You need to deeply gaze into his eyes to have a look at his arm? Unless you’re one of those quacks who read people’s health from the eyeballs, keep your paws off my boyfriend’s face.”
Knox’s heart went into overdrive. “My boyfriend”. Yesterday’s joke now felt almost too real, and he had no idea how he felt about it. Because the urgent question of whether he liked dick dug holes in his mind like a worm that wouldn’t stop until it consumed his whole brain.
Most of all though, Liv couldn’t know that Knox was pondering this at all, so he laughed, playing along. “My face is fine, no need to worry.” And why was Liv this bothered by another dude touching Knox anyway, if he was the one to come up with the whole let’s-be-gay thing?
Cyborg shook his head and opened a backpack filled with bandages and other medical tools. He glanced at Liv. “Maybe you should have looked into his eyes less when you were patching him up.”
Dex cackled and poured some honey into his mushy cereal. “Oh, man. I love me some drama.”
Ezra kept quiet, but Knox had no doubt he was drinking everything up and would report it to Frank. What. A. Clusterfuck.
Liv swung his arm over Knox’s shoulder, pressing so close his warm breath teased the back of Knox’s ear. “Oh, I’m the only one with the instruction manual to this guy, and I know all the buttons to press, don’t you worry.”
Cy held his gaze, and being stuck between the two powerful presences made Knox break out in a sweat. Before tension could have triggered his fight-or-flight response, Cy let go of his hand and pulled out a bottle and some fresh bandages.
“You did a decent enough job, all things considered, though I wouldn’t hope for a pretty scar from this King of Stitching of yours,” he said, pointing out Liv’s handiwork.
Knox felt Liv’s hand ball into a fist against his chest, so he spoke.