Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 117363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Jean upended his bags onto his bed and set to work tearing stickers and snapping tags off his new clothes. Jeremy was slower at his share so he could inspect them as he went, and he was grateful for Laila’s sacrifice today. She had a good eye for style and could work within the narrow confines of what few colors Jean tolerated. This shirt was a new shade for him, a deep blue that reminded Jeremy of the ocean at dusk.
Jean caught hold of the shirt sleeve and tilted it so he could see the front. He’d noticed Jeremy staring and was looking for a problem spot, Jeremy guessed. Jeremy couldn’t say he was imagining what Jean would look like in it, with the scoop neck dipping down below the hollow of his throat, so he just said, “It’s a good color.”
Jean let it slide without comment and went back to his own pile. He finished first and carted the lot to his laundry basket. He lingered there a few moments before turning a speculative look on the small pile at Jeremy’s side. Jeremy quirked a brow at him in silent question, but Jean only sighed and went to his dresser. Jeremy didn’t have long to wonder, because Jean tugged open the top drawer and began unloading it. Jeremy expected to see socks and underwear, but Jean came back with a half-dozen spiral notebooks.
“You’ve had a desk this whole time,” Jeremy reminded him, amused.
Jean didn’t deign to respond but carried the stack out of the room toward the study. Jeremy finished up the clothes he was working on, chucked them into Jean’s hamper, and watched with renewed interest as Jean came back. This time he gathered handfuls of what looked like magnets, and the need to rifle through them for a sneak peek at Jean’s interests had Jeremy rocking on the balls of his feet.
“We can make room on the fridge,” he said.
“They do not stick anymore,” Jean said.
Well-worn and sentimental, Jeremy assumed, and he followed Jean down the hall to the study. Maybe Jean sensed his wide-eyed curiosity, because he dumped all of them into the desk’s single drawer and slid it closed with a firm hand. Jeremy obediently sat at Cat’s desk instead to watch. It only took Jean one more trip. Postcards were dropped in the drawer alongside the magnets, whereas a laptop and a photograph were set on the desk’s surface. Since he set the photo face-up, Jeremy invited himself to come look.
He was more startled than he should be that it was of a girl. Her hair was distinctive enough to be familiar, bright white with pastel tips, but he struggled to place her. He’d seen her before, but—
“Goalkeeper,” he said when it finally clicked. “Palmetto State Foxes.”
“Renee Walker,” Jean agreed, and did not elaborate.
“She’s cute,” Jeremy said. It came out convincing enough, considering Jeremy had no strong opinion either way.
He was immediately betrayed by Cat, who wandered into the study at the tail-end of the conversation and said, “As if you can tell a girl apart from a cow on a good day. Let me see, I’m a far better judge.” She made a beeline for Jean’s desk and plucked up Renee’s picture. “Oh, for once you’re right.”
Jean stared at Cat like he didn’t understand her words before turning a curious look on Jeremy. “You like men.”
It wasn’t quite a question, but it wasn’t said with any real certainty, either. The best answer was a simple yes, but Jeremy hesitated. He’d noticed the lingering looks Jean gave Cat and Laila, and he hadn’t missed the way Jean’s gaze tracked him when he readied for bed. Since Jean was quick to look away when he was caught, Jeremy had promised himself he wouldn’t ask. This was too good an opening to pass up, though, so he finally said, “More exclusively than you do, I think. Does that bother you?”
Jean was quiet so long Jeremy thought he was refusing to answer. Then: “Lucas.”
Jeremy stared at him, bewildered, and Jean gave an impatient flick of his fingers as he elaborated. “He said he didn’t trust your judgment when it came to me. His brother told him I’m a whore, and he knows you like men. He insulted your integrity by implying you signed me for such a reason.”
“He insulted both of us with that one,” Jeremy said. “I trust him to come around sooner or later.”
Jean made a rude noise and motioned to Cat. She returned Renee’s picture with a cheery, “Not a bad catch, Jean.”
“She is not my catch.” Jean set her picture upside-down on his desk.
Cat pushed her toes into the side of Jeremy’s foot and asked, “Friend who happens to be a girl?” with exaggerated innocence.
“Perhaps,” Jean said.
He sounded almost melancholic, and Jeremy’s thoughts snagged on that instead of the triumphant smile that tugged at the corner of Cat’s mouth. He expected Jean to leave it at that, but after a minute of gazing down at the back of the photograph Jean added, “She is the one who took me from Edgar Allan when I was injured.”