Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 50681 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 253(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50681 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 253(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
It felt…amazing. Perfect. And as his breathing settled into an even cadence that matched my own, I was overwhelmed by who we were together.
Was this love?
In addition to our regularly scheduled lives, we were still filming videos for Mitch’s project. Our content was funny and original and although Mitch had a decent base of followers, I got the impression most of them were from his LGBTQ clubs and according to the feedback we’d received so far, no one believed we were for real. Chelsea and Derek knew about the project too, but they didn’t ask in-depth questions and I, for one, didn’t provide details. Truthfully, I rarely saw either of them. And I lived with Derek.
We were both in season, so I supposed it made sense, but I got the feeling we were avoiding each other too. I spent the night at Mitch’s almost every night. I’d swing by my house after practice, grab something to eat, and wait around till Mitch texted to say he was on his way home. Sometimes I’d leave a dish or cup out to make Derek crazy and remind him he still had a roommate before I headed out again. I thought he might be seeing someone new. When we did bump into each other, I noticed a dreamy look in his eyes that spoke volumes. Or maybe it was the telltale sound of sex in progress coming from his room. Squeaky bed springs and blissed-out moaning. He didn’t talk about it, and I didn’t ask. I just packed a change of clothes and hightailed it to Mitch’s.
Chelsea was different. She was Mitch’s best friend, and they weren’t the kind of buddies who tiptoed around awkward topics. They talked. They finished each other’s sentences and knew secrets no one else did. So while Derek only knew I was working on a “project,” Chelsea probably knew everything. I studied their hand motions and the way they walked across the grass with their shoulders brushing. If I hadn’t had my dick in his ass eight hours ago, I might have been jealous.
I couldn’t decide if it was ironic or just an odd coincidence that Chelsea was besties with the two people I was closest to: Mitch and Derek. Their friendships were totally different. Mitch and Chelsea hung out at parties while Derek and Chelsea were more likely to grab a cup of coffee. But they both adored her and confided in her. He hadn’t said so, but I figured Mitch told her about us. And I had to admit, it made me a little nervous to hang out with her.
Chelsea agreed to be our cameraperson for the “sport” segment Mitch wanted to film in the park. The plan was for me to show Mitch how to throw a football and for him to teach me a cheer or a cartwheel or something that hopefully wouldn’t require excess exertion. I’d just come from practice and I was exhausted.
I waved as they made their way to me. Chelsea held her arms wide and hugged me before twirling in a circle. She wore a long floral dress with Doc Martens and a wide-brimmed hat that somehow looked very stylish on her. Since we were filming, Mitch had been very specific about our wardrobe. I was instructed to wear dark workout clothes. Preferably black, which he claimed would look fabulous against the autumn foliage. I took a moment to eye his toned physique in his black leggings and matching pullover. Damn, he was sexy.
“Evan, your camera girl is here! Mitchy was just filling me in on his project so far. I’ve been swamped at work and school and haven’t watched a single episode yet, but I’m intrigued. Tell me what you want me to do,” she said, flinging her long, dark hair over her shoulder.
“Well, this guy’s the boss. Not me. Tell us what the plan is, Mitchy.” I cupped the back of his neck playfully and ran my fingers through his hair.
He pointed at the football on the picnic table and sighed. “Let’s get the hard part over with first. We’ll play football, and then we’ll do gymnastics. Ready?”
I held up a hand to stop him. “Yeah, but we’re not playing football, babe. I’m just going to teach you how to throw a tight spiral.”
Chelsea covered her mouth theatrically. “You called him ‘babe.’ Yes, I can already tell this is going to be good. So what do I do?”
“Um…” Mitch cast a flustered look at me before explaining what he wanted. “Basically, you just follow the action. No jerky movements, though. Keep it as smooth as possible.”
“Gotcha. I’ll set up the tripod while you two practice your moves. I have one hour, so we should probably concentrate on the action shots now.”
“That’s fine. We can handle the rest on our own,” Mitch said before turning to me. “So how do you throw a spiral…babe?”