Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 135522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
“Oh. You mean the McPhersons’ guest wing?”
“They were generous enough to let us bachelors stay here, what with all the stuff they’ll need from us over the next couple of days leading up to the big thing … though, if I’m being honest, I think it’s more for our protection. Spruce is getting crazy.”
“Crazy,” I absently agree, thinking of the trip here, how loud and crowded Main Street was, as if the crafts festival is still going on. Not to mention the overrun parking lots and the Spur Inn with its new unfinished wing that the town could’ve desperately used to house these unplanned-for visitors.
“So what do you say?” he asks, prodding me with a wiggle of his hips—or rather, his crotch against my crotch, still holding me tightly against him. “It’ll be like a big sleepover. Your family won’t mind. They love how much time we spend together.”
I shake my head. “I can’t. It would be rude. I wasn’t one of the ones invited to stay.”
“They’d understand. Aren’t you also friends with TJ? Don’t be so worried about it.”
“But where will I sleep?” I protest. “In your room with you? Don’t you worry about what that’ll look like? Are you trying to get us caught?”
“I thought we weren’t caring about that as much. Dean’s been giving us looks all week. Anthony isn’t as thick as he seems. He even just half-cuddled with us and Porridge in my backyard the other night. No one cares.” He puts a quick kiss on my forehead, which I am sure is just his strategic endeavor to keep me from overthinking. It works, by the way, in interrupting my thoughts. He knows me too well. “Let’s just have a little bit of fun and be reckless. Stay in the house with me.”
I press my lips together to keep from making any expression. “Cole …”
“Please?”
I close my eyes. It’s easier to say no to him when I can’t see him. “Cole, I think I should—”
“I’ll lose my mind if I have to spend all night in a guest wing with Anthony and Dean going at each other.”
I was wrong. Even with my eyes closed, I can still see his face, his pleading eyes, his pouty lips. It’s possible that my imagination makes it even worse.
I take a breath. “I’ll think about it.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.”
He dives in for a kiss so fast, my eyes flap open, then he pulls away with a smile. “I knew you’d come around, Noah.”
“I hope you realize ‘I’ll think about it’ isn’t a yes.”
“Good enough for me.” He lets out a happy sigh. “Thanks for giving me my confidence back. I think I might need you by my side the whole time until this madness is over with.”
The look on his face can melt an iceberg. I don’t know why I insist on resisting his suggestions all the time. Doesn’t he always have my best interest at heart? If there’s anyone who’s going to save me from my stubborn, imprisoning mind, it’s Cole.
“That can be arranged,” I finally assure him. Then the pair of us kiss one last time before I go.
The kiss isn’t a short one.
Cole makes me so happy, I don’t even know who I am anymore.
Of course, I peek my head out to check the hall before letting myself out. The McPhersons have this small guesthouse located just behind the pavilion, which is being used as a green room and dressing room for their events. Of course, by “small”, I mean it is twice the size of my actual house, and looks pristine and clean down to the very corners of every room, top to bottom. Cole was given the farthest away room to use as his changing area, while Dean and Anthony share two larger adjoining rooms united by a bathroom on the other side of the house. Strangely, no big battles have broken out between them, though I think that’s largely due to everyone’s focus being on the event. To be honest, I think every person involved is significantly more nervous than they let on. Comparatively, Cole’s anxiety is the least of anyone’s concerns. In fact, I’d say he’s downright confident compared to the other two.
He has nothing to worry about at all.
Somehow, that very fact gives me confidence. I walk with my head held higher than usual (as in: not dragging on the ground) as I make my way out of the house. The path leads quickly to the side of the pavilion, where I enter the dim backstage area. I spot Nadine by the large speakers discussing something with one of the sound technicians, while Malcolm calmly takes notes next to her on his tablet, now and then muttering, “Yes, ma’am, yep, you bet, one step ahead of you, got it, yes, on top of it …” They’re too busy to notice me squeezing by on my way through. I nod at the other workers I happen to pass, each of them busy walking around the stage organizing and configuring things, but no one pays me any attention or nods back.