Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
He sighed. “You’re not moving in.”
“Afraid you can’t handle being around me without wanting my hole again?” While I called myself vers, I couldn’t deny that I really loved bottoming. Well, when I was with Houston, at least. He’d been the first one inside of me, and there had only been one other guy I’d let fuck me. My dildo got a hell of a workout, though.
“We’re definitely not sleeping together again. That was a mistake.”
It was. He was right about that. We’d be a mess because no matter how I used to feel about him, Houston and I were different. It would never work. I’d find a way to fuck it up.
“I read this quote once about how it’s good to make mistakes. It shows you’re living life or some shit. You have a great cock, so, you know, I’ll be your mistake and all.”
He groaned, but it wasn’t as much the annoyed kind of groan but the needy one. “I’m ignoring you.”
“How big is the bed in my room?”
He laughed. It still sounded sorta throaty like it had when we were in college.
Houston was quiet a moment before he asked, “How’d your dad take it when the story broke?”
Shit. He didn’t know. Of course he didn’t know. How could he? “He’s dead, but I’m sure he turned over in his grave a few times. When he was alive, I told him…told all of them. He took it about how I thought he would. He didn’t want anything to do with me—Caleb either—and then he died. Dad, not Caleb. Mom has talked to me a little bit since then. I think his death shook her up some, but it’s like three times a year at best, and she doesn’t approve.”
“Shit, Cull. I’m sorry.”
Cull. I hadn’t heard him call me that since college. “It is what it is.”
“Stop acting like it doesn’t bother you.”
“Stop trying to get into my head,” I countered. “I got Charity. We always knew it would be that way anyway.”
“Why did you come out to him? I mean, you didn’t have to unless you had someone…”
His question didn’t surprise me, but it wasn’t like I could tell him it was after his injury when all I could think was how fucking short life was. I didn’t know what I’d thought, that I would tell my dad and he would suddenly not be homophobic? And then, somehow, Houston and I would have gotten back together? See? He short-circuited my brain.
“Just thought it was time to cut the cord, is all. I need a fan in my room. Is there one there? Also, hopefully, it has natural light. I have doubts on your decorating abilities, so I might have to do a little revamping. You don’t mind, right?”
A few seconds went by before he chuckled.
Damned if that didn’t make me smile.
4
HOUSTON
Cullen showed up at my apartment after practice the next day.
I stared through the peephole at him as he pushed the doorbell for a second time, his hair still damp and slicked back from a recent shower. A large suitcase stood like a sentinel beside him.
After a couple of beats, he folded his arms over his chest and stared determinedly at the door. “I know you’re in there, McRae. Garrett says you rarely go out.” He glanced down at his watch. “6:30? You’re probably on your second round of salad now. Still on that whole superfood kick? Hope you finally ditched the bell peppers. Damn, that’s a nasty vegetable.”
Goddamn it. I glanced over at the half-eaten salad on my coffee table. It was indeed my second round, and there were bell peppers involved. “I go out. Garrett doesn’t know where I am every waking moment.” I squinted, trying to see better as Cullen ran a hand through the ends of his hair. “Bell peppers have more vitamin C than an orange, you know.”
“Yeah, I remember you saying that. I still think they’re nasty. Open the door.”
“Go back to your hotel.”
“Can’t. Got kicked out.” He broke into a chuckle as I sighed loudly. “Kidding, but the people next to me should have. They were arguing and banging the entire night. After a while, I couldn’t tell which was which. Fucked up my sleep, though. I was dragging ass today at practice. Not good, considering the game we’re going into this weekend.”
“So request a different room?”
“There aren’t any other rooms.”
“Bullshit,” I said, even as I swung open the door, my own motivations for doing so as suspect as his reasons for showing up in the first place. “You could get a different hotel.”
“I could,” he agreed, gaze sliding up my body as he drank me in. I felt every point where his eyes landed like my skin was a thermal map. His lips curled as he eyed my shorts. “I remember those.” I checked the drawstring self-consciously. I’d gotten them sophomore year at Southern U, and they were still my favorite pair, even though the elastic had given out years before. “Such a creature of habit,” he said, rolling his suitcase inside and past me. “Was I right about the salad?”