Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Thankfully, Scott’s father saved me from the certifiable-worthy ramble. Well, technically he shouted in frustration, but the result was the same.
“Scott! Quit chit-chatting with your friend. We have four more truckloads to bring over, and I’d like to get this done before sunset.”
Friend was good. I was happy to start with friend. I’d be even happier if Scott could become the kind of friend who liked to spend time naked in my bed when my mom and my sister were out. Excellent. Now I had something to work toward.
“Sorry, Dad,” Scott said without moving his gaze away from me. “Be right there.”
But he didn’t move. He just kept staring at me. I swallowed hard and tried to think of something interesting to say, but couldn’t come up with a single thing that wouldn’t risk a black eye. Then a loud crash sounded from the truck and Scott’s father started cussing up a storm, so I figured it was time to get up off the sidewalk and lend a hand.
“I’ll, uh, help with these boxes,” I said as I climbed to my feet.
“Yeah?” Scott asked, smiling brightly. “If you’re sure you feel okay, that’d be great.”
“Great,” I said as I rubbed the toe of my shoe back and forth across the concrete.
“Great,” he said as he stuffed his hands in his pockets and dragged his waistband dangerously low.
“Great,” I said as I looked up at him from underneath my lashes and chewed on my bottom lip.
“Scott! Dammit, come on,” his father yelled.
That broke our great standoff. Scott hustled over to his father, I scrambled to pick up one of the displaced boxes, and, together, the three of us moved a truckload of stuff into the apartment directly next door to mine.
When we were done unloading, Mr. Boone rushed Scott out of the apartment.
“Let’s go. We have to load the truck and do this all again,” he said.
We both followed him out the door and stood in the hallway as he locked up.
“Will you be around later?” Scott asked.
My nonexistent social life was finally panning out to be a good thing. “Yeah,” I said. Then it dawned on me that instead of sitting around thinking about my new friend, I could actually be with him. “I can go with you guys and help load if you want,” I volunteered.
Scott’s whole face lit up. “Did you hear that, Dad?” he said. “Charlie said he’d help us.”
Mr. Boone started booking it down the stairs, and Scott and I followed.
“Your parents are okay with that, uh….”
“Charlie,” I reminded him.
“Right, sorry. Your parents okay with you coming along, Charlie?”
My father was long gone—I hadn’t received so much as a postcard in more than a year. And my mom was picking up a bunch of overtime at the hospital, so she’d be at work until close to eight. Lord knew where my sister Rachel was. Probably spending the night with her latest future ex-boyfriend.
“Yeah, no problem,” I told Mr. Boone.
He nodded and grunted, and then all three of us squeezed together into the cab of the truck.
“DO YOU want me to help you unpack?” I asked Scott once we were done dragging all the boxes into his bedroom.
I was exhausted, my arms were so overworked my muscles were twitching, and I was putting odds at sixty-forty that my legs were going to collapse at any second. But I focused hard on mind over matter and told my body to buck the fuck up because being helpful-friend guy meant I could look at Scott.
Scott, whose cheeks were flushed from hours of lifting boxes and walking up and down stairs. Scott, who was so tall I had to tilt my head all the way back to see his face. Scott, whose arms were bulging with thick muscles I didn’t normally see on boys our age. Scott, whose legs were covered in downy hair I wanted to caress. Scott, said in a dreamy, wistful voice, and followed by a long sigh. Okay, so maybe the last one was overkill, but you get the idea: I wanted to be with Scott, and if manual labor was the price of admission, well, I was willing to pay for my ticket.
“Nah, that can wait until tomorrow.” He flopped down on the extra-long twin mattress we’d dropped in the corner of the room. “I’m beat.”
Seeing him lying down almost made my knees buckle and, that time, it wasn’t from arousal. I figured my body was just envious.
“C’mere,” he said as he patted the spot next to him. The mattress was pretty narrow and he was very broad, but he scooted all the way to one side and I was but a wee lad… no? Okay, I was a skinny little runt, so there was plenty of room for both of us on the mattress. Better?