Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90877 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90877 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
But maybe the distance would be good for all of us. The truth was, I was afraid of becoming too attached. As it stood now, my affection for Delaney had grown exponentially, which might’ve explained why the conversation that took place after Grant invited me on their trip had stung. Obviously, I didn’t think it was a good idea either, no matter how enticing it sounded. If our friendship ever went south, it would kill me to hurt Delaney, let alone Grant, in any way. I now understood a hell of a lot better the sorts of worries that kept Delaney up at night. And sometimes—dozens of times—I wished I were there to hold him instead of pulling up to an empty house and lying in a bed that felt too big for one person.
But I’d learned that I only had agency over my own thoughts, actions, and feelings. Everything else was beyond my control. For now, I’d be grateful for all the gentler—and rougher—moments with Delaney because he was instrumental in helping me find myself again.
Delaney met me at the door, and it took the three of us to get the island inside. The old table had been moved out of the way, and they’d have to buy some barstools to make it work as a seating area, but just as I’d predicted, it looked great in their kitchen.
“That’s so cool,” Grant said as we stood back to approve the placement, but the admiration was cut short by the doorbell ringing.
“Perfect timing.” Delaney headed toward the front door. “Looks like our counters are here.”
Thankfully, I didn’t have to assist with the hauling of those heavy slabs of granite, the company having plenty of helping hands of their own. So we stood out of the way and watched, pleased with how it was all coming together.
When Delaney’s phone buzzed with a text message, he looked at Grant. “It’s your grandmother.”
“I forgot to ask about your Thanksgiving plans. Who’s cooking dinner?”
“Donna always insists, but I’m not sure it’ll happen this year. Howard has the flu, and given her hacking cough on the phone today, it looks like she caught it too,” he said as Grant’s expression turned sullen. “I was gonna run to the store after this to get them stocked up on soup and medicine.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I replied with a frown.
“Eh, no biggie, right?” he said, squeezing Grant’s shoulder. “I’m gonna look for a small turkey while I’m at the store. At least we’ll have a working kitchen.”
“You can’t do that,” I replied absently, an idea taking shape.
“Huh?” Delaney’s eyebrows knitted together. “Do what?”
“Sorry. What I mean is, you can’t spend Thanksgiving alone. I’ll be heading to my mom’s with my sister and aunt, and she’d love to have you.”
“No, we shouldn’t. It’s such short notice. We can’t just—”
“Yes, you can.” I pulled out my phone. “I’m texting my mom right now.”
When he shifted uncomfortably beside me, I worried I’d overstepped. But this was different from a weekend trip. This was inviting a couple of friends to dinner because their plans got canceled. Thankfully, my mom responded right away.
“She says you’re more than welcome.” I tilted the text message toward him. “No pressure. It’s up to you. But they’ve already heard all about you, and…you won’t want to miss her stuffing.”
He bit his lip warily. “What do you think, Grant?”
Grant looked between the two of us, his smile spreading wide. “Let’s do it.”
“Awesome.” There, it was settled. My family would meet them and maybe understand why I felt such a connection. Or maybe they’d set me straight. Either way.
Once the counters were in place and we’d signed off on the work, Delaney motioned toward the door. “I need to get to the store, Grant.”
“I’ll be in my room,” he replied. “See you on Thanksgiving, Marc.”
We fist-bumped, and then Delaney and I walked out together.
“It was really nice of you to invite us for Thanksgiving, but you didn’t have to. We would be perfectly fine here by—”
“Your leaves are piling up again,” I said, pointing to the lawn covered in an array of golds and reds, and given the barren trees near his curb, they were the last of the season.
“I know.” He sighed. “I plan to rake this weekend. And…nice distraction.”
“Would it also be a nice distraction if I said I want to kiss you so bad right now?” That got the desired effect of making him blush.
“You better watch yourself, mister. I might surprise you and jump your bones right here in my driveway.”
“Jump my bones?” I pumped my eyebrows. “Is that what the kids are calling it nowadays?”
He laughed. “Grant would be mortified.”
“By you sounding old as fuck? Or the idea of you trying to date me?”
“Shh.” He glanced over his shoulder as if Grant or the neighbors would hear through the windows. “And were we even talking about dating, or…other things?”