Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 59930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 300(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
I followed Eden to the kitchen and draped my leather jacket over the back of a chair. “That was fun,” I said. “It felt like old times.”
“I think your brother and I are getting too old for all of that.”
“Bullshit. You’re both only thirty-two, but you act like you’re George’s age. Actually, scratch that. It’s an insult to George, who’s actually out right now and probably—”
Eden cut me off, the same way he’d interrupted Casey. “Please don’t finish that sentence. I’m begging you.”
“Having fun. That’s all I was going to say.”
Eden pulled two sports bottles from the cabinet while I retrieved a pitcher of filtered water from the fridge. We worked in tandem to fill both bottles to take upstairs with us, and then I scooped up my stuffed Scooby Doo from the kitchen chair. Eden grinned when he saw that, but he didn’t say anything.
Once we reached the second floor, I said, “Good night, Eden. Sweet dreams.”
“You, too.” He flashed me a smile before stepping into his bedroom.
I went into my room and closed the door behind me before stripping down to my underwear. They were a cute hot pink pair, one of several sexy briefs I’d bought for work but ended up wearing all the time. They made me feel a lot more attractive than my former cheap, baggy underwear did.
After I put Scooby on the chair by my closet, I stretched out on top of the covers, glanced at the time, and sighed. It wasn’t even midnight yet. If tonight had been up to me, I would have absolutely made the most of it. That would have included staying at the bar until it closed at two a.m., then finding a twenty-four-hour diner for an early breakfast and good conversation.
Being seven years younger than my brother and his best friend meant I’d missed out on a lot. By the time I turned twenty-one and could go out with them, both Eden and Casey were getting tired of the clubs and bars. They still went with me occasionally, but I was lucky if that happened once a month.
And yeah, I had a few friends my age who’d go out with me, but I much preferred the company of my brother and his best friend. It wasn’t just that I was in love with Eden. I’d looked up to Casey my entire life, and it meant so much to me when he started treating me like one of the guys, instead of an annoying kid who kept trying to tag along everywhere he went.
I sighed as I rested my hand on the right side of my rib cage, on top of my only tattoo. It was a detailed black ink illustration of a dragon, curled up with his tail wrapped around him. Casey had teased me when I’d gotten it for myself on my nineteenth birthday. He called me the boy with the dragon tattoo for months, but I didn’t care. I loved that tattoo, because to me it meant I was never alone. Maybe that sounded pathetic, but I’d been a lonely kid who’d grown into a lonely adult, and I’d gotten that dragon so he’d always be with me, no matter what.
He meant more than that, too. His scales were supposed to be a reminder to toughen up and develop a thick skin against everything and everyone that tried to hurt me, like my dad, who told me I was too dumb to ever amount to anything. And the guys in high school who stopped being my friend when they found out I was gay. And the coach who told me I wasn’t good enough to play college football, which shook my confidence so much that it cost me a pending scholarship.
I whispered, “Fuck,” and curled up on my side, with my hand still pressed to the dragon.
Why was I thinking about all this shit? I’d had a good day, one of the best I could remember. Why did I have to sabotage my happiness like this? Was it the alcohol? Or had I just been keeping all of that pain tamped down for way too long?
Despite myself, I started to cry. I curled into a ball and didn’t make a sound. These tears were my secret. My dad used to call me weak when I cried, but he wasn’t here now. No one was. I could just go ahead and release the pressure valve on all those things I kept inside me, and tomorrow I’d be better. Stronger. I’d be able to pull up a smile again and make everyone think I was fine. I was good at that. I’d been doing it for years.
A light knock at my door startled me. I sat up quickly and wiped away the tears with the back of my hand. I felt like I’d been caught doing something wrong.