Total pages in book: 13
Estimated words: 12091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 60(@200wpm)___ 48(@250wpm)___ 40(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 12091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 60(@200wpm)___ 48(@250wpm)___ 40(@300wpm)
“Tell me about it.”
He stares at me, and I count the seconds as his gaze falls to my mouth and lingers before trailing back up to my eyes. “How do you…” He chews the inside of his cheek and shakes his head. “God, never mind, it’s none of my business.”
“What?”
He hiccups a laugh and sighs, tipping his head back against the elevator wall. “How do you… date?”
“I don’t.”
Graham’s eyes widen and he sits up straight like he’s been struck by lightning. “Wait… like at all? No secret rent boys or side pieces?”
I crack up and rub my chin, my smile actually making my jaw hurt. “No. I’m basically a monk at this point.”
“Jesus.”
“I know.”
My dick protests against the forced celibacy bullshit, and twitches at the sight of Graham licking his lips. Fuck, I have to get out of this elevator. I pick up my phone and switch off the flashlight, needing space from the sexy chef sitting less than ten feet away from me. The smell of his sweat mixed with his woodsy cologne saturates the tight space, sinking into my lungs with every breath I take. The heady combination is enough to make me think about things I never allow. Things like lips and hands and skin and kissing strangers. Like here in this hidden corner of the world, I can be the guy I hide from every day, take the things I want and not worry for one goddamn second about the consequences.
“I don’t know how you survive,” he says, and I want to tell him I’m not surviving. I’m slowly drowning, and he’s the first breath of air I’ve had in such a long time. He huffs out a humorless laugh and I suddenly wish I hadn’t turned off the flashlight, needing to see those expressive eyes. “Though, dating isn’t all it’s cracked up to be either.”
“No?”
“God, no. Trust me, maybe you have the right idea.” He scoffs like he doesn’t believe the words he’s said. “I always thought I’d get married before Jace, and then he found Rob and I’m… I’m…”
“Alone?”
He doesn’t answer right away, and I worry I’ve overstepped. He moves, the soft scrape of his shoes against the floor echoes in the small space. The hot air stirs around my body, and another bead of sweat trickles down the back of my t-shirt.
“In a way,” he says, and I jump. He’s closer now, close enough that if I reached out, I had no doubt I’d touch him. “I date, but it never works out. I tend to pick guys who run away at the first sign of commitment.”
“Maybe subconsciously you don’t want commitment either.”
“Maybe.”
Maybe you want to kiss a stranger in an elevator too?
I smile at my hopeful thoughts as I lift my legs and rest my forearms on my knees.
It’s this small ass box. All this heat and honesty is getting to me.
“I didn’t even want to come to Vegas,” I admit. “A few of my teammates come here every year in the off season, a couple of weeks before camp, a last chance to party. I always say no when they ask me to tag along.”
“And this time?” he asks, and I swear I can feel his breath on the skin of my cheek, my neck. “What made you say yes?”
I was losing my battle with sanity. How long had we been in here, twenty minutes? An hour?
“This time?” I lean back, tugging on my shirt, fanning the fabric away from my sweat-soaked skin. “I didn’t want to let the loneliness win.”
3
GRAHAM
I’m going to die. Die trapped in this small space with this gorgeous man who watches my ridiculous cooking videos and is a closeted gay who admits to getting no action.
“I didn’t want to let the loneliness win.” Add in the raw honesty and vulnerability in his words, and this guy is sure to steal someone’s heart in an instant, given the chance.
I didn’t mean to get in this close proximity to him but somehow, I did, drawn to the cadence of his voice, the citrus scent clinging to his skin either from cologne or body wash.
I lean back, to clear my head, but also hoping he doesn’t feel like I’m crowding him. My back is saturated with sweat, and I want to strip down for some needed air, but that might be taking it a bit too far.
“Don’t want to freak you out, but I need to get some relief.”
“What do you mean?”
“Thing is, I’m a clammy mess, and as soon as those doors open, I have to attend a wedding and fulfill my best man duties and I don’t have a change of clothes. I’ll look totally ruined.”
He flips on his flashlight again.
“It’s hot as hell in here. If you’re stressed about your shirt, do what you need to do.” He averts his gaze and fans the fabric of his own shirt away from his chest. “Don’t worry about me.”