Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 95678 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95678 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Doc chimed in. “Westie, has it ever occurred to you that maybe he doesn’t leave when you’re there because he enjoys your company?”
Warmth swirled in my gut at the thought, but I pushed it away.
“Ah, no. No freaking way. The guy hates me, and quite frankly, the feeling is kind of mutual.”
Grandpa and Doc exchanged a look before Doc smirked at me. “Sure, West. Whatever you say, boy.”
I gritted my teeth. He knew I hated when he called me boy. He did it to piss me off and make me feel like a kid, but I held my tongue out of respect for him regardless.
“So what’s he doing now? Did he look upset?”
“Who?” Doc said, all innocent and shit.
I huffed. “Never mind.” I turned to get into the truck and slammed the door behind me. Grandpa and Doc were laughing their fool heads off at me, but I ignored them. Bunch of assholes.
Even though I knew I wouldn’t be well received, I decided to stop by Nico’s place anyway. I wanted to make sure he was okay after the run-in with Curt, and on the way there, I thought about what my grandfathers had said.
Was it possible the guy was attracted to me? Could I get over my annoyance with the guy long enough to consider hooking up with him? And what about my vow never to trust someone I was only physically attracted to?
But I couldn’t stop thinking about how good it would feel to touch him, if only for a night.
It wasn’t that I was the kind of guy who hopped into bed with any old random person, but I also hadn’t had much time for relationships between college, med school, residency, and running my own practice. And I hadn’t been kidding when I’d said there were slim pickings in Hobie. Everyone I knew in town who was gay was related to me by blood with the exception of guys I knew too well like Stevie Mansell. And Stevie was jailbait. Not to mention way too flirty and sex-crazed for my taste. The guy had known me for all of two seconds before he had my belt open in the back room of someone’s Super Bowl party and was lowering himself to his knees despite my protestations. No thanks.
I pulled down the long drive to Nico’s place and mentally slapped myself for thinking of it as his place. Adriana hadn’t even been dead for two full weeks, and I already thought of her house as someone else’s? Maybe this was a mistake.
I parked the car and leaned my forehead against the steering wheel. I was an idiot. Was I really hoping to go in there and get lucky with Adriana’s brother? The guy who’d ditched her and left her to face the harassment and belittling of the Billingham family? No, Nico Salerno needed to account for his actions.
Instead of going in there and kissing the guy, I needed to go in there and confront him about what had caused him to bolt so long ago. That was what I needed to do. Make him explain himself.
I felt my jaw tighten in newfound ire as I hopped up the steps to the front porch and knocked.
There was no answer. I knocked again a minute later. Still no answer. By this time, I’d whipped myself up into a frenzy. The fear of him being hurt at the grocery store, Doc’s implication Nico might want me, the reminder he’d abandoned my friend into the hands of bullies, and the annoyance of Nico not answering the door all had twisted me up inside until I was ready to boil over.
“Open up this goddamned door!” I shouted, banging my fist against the wood even harder. “I know you’re here, your car is here.”
The glass rattled in the windows alongside the doorframe, and I had a moment’s realization that this kind of behavior wasn’t like me. What exactly was my problem?
“Nico, dammit!” I yelled again. “It’s West. Let me in.”
Still nothing. I turned around and looked back toward our vehicles and the clearing around the cars. No sign of him out front. I began to get a bad feeling in my gut and wondered if something had happened to him. Maybe he was inside and hurt. What if he was asleep and the baby needed him? Maybe he was out for the evening in someone else’s vehicle.
Could he have gone out with someone? If so, who? I ran my hands through my hair for the millionth time that day and turned back to peer in the window again. Nico was standing right there on the other side of the glass. I jumped a foot in the air, clutching my chest and trying not to screech like an idiot.
The look on his face was downright menacing, and I noticed he was dripping wet and covered with nothing but a short navy-blue towel wrapped around his waist. Oh shit, he’d been in the shower.