Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
“Sounds good,” Rhys replied, reaching for the glass of water on the coffee table. “But hey, listen. I also don’t want to keep you from doing stuff with other friends. Or I dunno, dating?”
He knew Emerson didn’t hook up often—or hell, maybe he had been lately and Rhys just didn’t remember? Though something felt a bit off about that—still, Rhys wanted to make sure he knew he didn’t have to hang out with him all the time.
“You know I don’t really…” He trailed off, then shook his head as if he’d changed his mind.
“Date?” Rhys asked, frustration settling in his gut. “Well, you should.”
Emerson waved his hand. “It’s complicated.”
“Why? Because you’re taking care of your siblings?” And now your best friend? “That’s why I’m here. You can use me as your built-in babysitter. I should be able to fend for myself much better in another week.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Emerson replied with a faraway look. “Though there’s really nobody I’d want to… Never mind.”
“What?” Rhys pleaded, though he didn’t want to push because Emerson could be stubborn. Yet he was desperate to get back to that place where they could share anything. Not that they really ever discussed their sex lives, but they could usually talk about feelings. At least he thought he could. That recurring thought loomed in the back of his mind—has something changed?
Emerson’s eyebrows drew together. “It takes me a bit to…work up to someone.”
The memory of seeing Emerson with a girl for the first time in high school flitted through his brain. He remembered how foreign it was as they walked through the halls with their hands clasped. How bile had crawled up his throat before he swallowed it down and embraced the situation head-on, walking beside them to class and joking around.
He always knew that Emerson would be a stand-up, committed guy, but to watch him show someone other than his family—and well, Rhys—any type of tenderness was definitely surreal. He could admit now he’d been jealous of her, thinking she would be getting all of Emerson’s attention, and the idea was absurd. Because it wasn’t like it had ruined their friendship.
But had Rhys ever admitted it out loud, he thought Emerson would’ve surely understood the feeling. There was that one time when they were teens and he’d gotten his first crush on a hot guy working at the summer carnival. Emerson had acted strange and distant for days afterward, so Rhys never shared that he and the guy had texted back and forth for a while before it fizzled out.
His actual first encounter with a dude didn’t come until he was seventeen—it was a guy from the skateboard park, and sometimes they would make out and mess around inside the playground treehouse after dark. Christ, what a memory. But he also recalled lying awake at night, wondering what Emerson might think—or how differently he might taste, if he was being honest. He couldn’t help it, his best friend was never far from his thoughts, even back then.
“Yeah, I remember,” Rhys replied, tuning back in and noticing how Emerson was having trouble making eye contact. “But that’s why it’s special for anyone who has the privilege of getting close to you. Of having your attention.”
Emerson gasped, then shook his head. “Rhys, I—” A remorseful look crossed his face that Rhys didn’t quite understand.
“Never mind, I’m just being sappy.” Rhys waved him off. “Suppose I want you to realize how much I appreciate everything you’ve done.”
Emerson’s smile turned into a smirk. “Guess you’ll just owe me.”
Rhys scoffed. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll find a way for me to pay up.”
Emerson headed toward the couch and reached out to him. “Ready for that shower now?”
“Yeah, thanks.” Using Emerson’s arm for leverage, he stood up. “I can mostly do it myself, but raising my arms is still killer.”
“Cut yourself some slack,” Emerson said, helping him shuffle toward the bathroom. “You were unconscious not ten days ago.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Rhys said, grabbing on to the sink. “Let’s make a deal, okay?”
“O-kay.” Emerson looked uncertain.
“How about we…I don’t know. Pretend. That none of this is so heavy.” Rhys blew out a breath. “But maybe that’s unfair. I can’t imagine you getting the call and rushing to the hospital…again. I’m sorry—”
“Okay, stop.” He slashed at the air with his hand. “You’re not taking your own advice. I don’t want… I can’t…” He squeezed his eyes shut. “It’s a deal.”
“Great!” Relief flooded Emerson’s features, and Rhys hoped that meant he’d finally said the right thing. “Now shave me. My jaw is itchy as fuck.”
A laugh jumped out of Emerson’s mouth. When their eyes met, Emerson’s cheeks were flushed, but his lips were stretched into a grin that made him look…stunning.
“I love seeing you smile. You don’t do that enough.”
His blush deepened. “Sit on the commode, and let me do my thing.”