Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“Yeah. I’m good at it too.”
“Hmm. Next time you’ll have to make me dinner, then.”
I shake my head. He keeps talking like he’s going to keep wanting to be friends with me. “You say that like there will be a next time.”
“Damn. I’m lucky I don’t get my feelings hurt too easily.”
Fuck. “I didn’t… I’m not good at this.” Whatever this is.
“You’re fine, East. I’m bustin’ your balls.”
Yes, why can’t we do that? Not the busting part, but playing with balls. That’s a whole lot easier. Sex I understand. We can fuck and be done with it. He can get his enjoyment out of my body, and I’ll get mine out of his.
“Have a seat.” Archer nods toward the chairs at the bar.
“No.” I walk to the sink and wash my hands. If I’m going to be here, I should at least help.
We stand there together in his kitchen, making hamburger patties. I’ve never done this with anyone. Archer seems used to it, though. His heart probably isn’t beating too fast. He’s probably not sweating, his mind not racing as he tries not to talk in his head to someone who isn’t there.
Once we’re finished, he puts them on the stove, and then we wash again before we begin cutting vegetables for a salad.
He talks about his sister, Cora, whom he’s close with, and he mentions her wife. I figure most people know she’s married to a woman, but I didn’t. I don’t pay attention to people around town. I wonder how many other things I missed.
That reminds me that Archer sleeps with men and I haven’t fucked anyone in so damn long.
I’ve never fucked someone I’m…this with either.
“What?” he asks.
“What, what?”
“You made a weird sound.”
“No I didn’t.” I probably did, but I’m not going to tell him that.
Archer lets it go. He talks and I listen while we finish with dinner and then sit down and eat together.
Pretty Girl and Casanova stay at my feet while we eat, and I must admit, I’m glad Casanova seems to know I’m his person. Maybe he’s just by me because Pretty Girl is, but then earlier, with Cass, Casanova had taken comfort in me.
“Why do people call Tripp Cass?” It’s something I do because everyone does.
“Actually, I started that when we were in high school. We were doing the last name thing because we thought we were little badasses. He called me Thorn, and I called him Cassidy, but then ended up shortening it to Cass, and it stuck.” My stomach gets that unfamiliar tight and twisty feeling again. “His family calls him Tripp, but most everyone else calls him Cass.”
I nod, wishing I hadn’t asked. I’ve been asking him a lot of questions today. It’s annoying as shit.
“What’s Rhett been up to?” he asks.
“Don’t know.”
“You guys don’t talk much?” He sounds like that’s unfathomable to him. But then, my family does a good job pretending we’re a normal, healthy family when we’re anything but.
“We’re not like most people.”
“What do you mean?”
“Why do you ask so many questions?” I snap.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep. I’m just making conversation.”
There’s been one person in my life I could never stay mad at, hardly be mad at, and that was Ella, but for some reason, it’s difficult with Archer too. He makes me want to apologize, when that’s something I’ve rarely cared to do with anyone else. “It’s fine. Just not good at this.” Which I’ve said before, but it bears repeating. If he didn’t keep trying to do this with me, to talk to me and be friends with me, we wouldn’t have this problem.
“You’re doing fine. Cut yourself some slack. We all snap at people sometimes.”
But I do it more than most…and I want to make it up to him, want to show him that I appreciate the fact that I’m here, even if I know it won’t last. “I’m younger than Rhett and Morgan…which you know. Not sure why I said that. And they had to take care of me a lot. My dad—Gregory. He’s not like other people’s dads. I’m the reason Morgan didn’t leave for college and the source of fights he and Rhett get into. I don’t stop getting into trouble. I’m sure both of them think their lives would be better off if I wasn’t…me.”
“Jesus, East. Do you really think that? I don’t believe that for a second. They—”
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’m not trying to be a dick, but if you can’t respect that, I’m gonna have to leave.” If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t have even given them that warning. Hell, I wouldn’t have said what I did. My skin feels itchy, his gaze like it’s trying to dissect me, trying to see beneath the surface, but once he does, there’s no doubt in my mind that he won’t like what he finds. “Burgers are good.” I take a bite, hoping to change the subject.