Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
My heart lurched. “He’s very sweet.”
“So keep it in your pants,” Jamie said. “How would you feel if someone fucked you and then you found out they’d been secretly messaging with you for God knows how long?”
I lifted an eyebrow. “Well, I’d absolutely love that, are you kidding? I live for that kind of thing. Hell, it would probably make me even more turned on and I’d go in for round two—”
“Okay, okay,” Jamie said with a laugh. “I forgot you’re a freak of nature.”
“I prefer the term extremely sexually open, but sure, I’m a freak, too,” I said.
“Tell him the truth,” Jamie said. “You know what you need to do.”
I heard a soft knock on my door around seven o’clock. I swung it open and found Adam standing there, holding not one but two twelve-packs of beer, flushed and adorable and so fucking hot it made my guilt flare up again within about two seconds.
“Damn, you really brought enough for a party, didn’t you?” I said.
He nodded, shifting on one foot as he struggled to hold both packs, one on top of the other. “Wanted to have some variety. I think I got too much.”
Don’t fuck him.
God, he is cute, and that does not mean you should try to fuck him.
“Here. Let me grab one,” I said. “No such thing as too much.”
“Oh, that is helpful,” he said, relief in his voice. “Carrying these all the way down Spruce Street and up your apartment stairs was a bit of a mistake.”
“Come on in. Kitchen is this way.”
Having Adam in my house felt a bit like I’d invited royalty into a college dorm room. I kept my apartment nice, and it was always clean enough to invite a hookup over without shame.
But Adam wasn’t a hookup. I led him through the living room and into the kitchen, both of which I’d spent the last hour cleaning. Suddenly, my eyes darted around everywhere, wondering what he’d think of my place. What he’d think of me. The bookshelves I had in the living room seemed sorely lacking in substance—I had a bunch of graphic novels, old comic books from when I was a young teen, and a smattering of fun novels that friends had given me over the years, and I’d only read about half of them.
My furniture wasn’t as fancy as his, the rooms here were smaller and the ceilings were much lower than the ones at his house. I wasn’t ashamed of my apartment living, but it was strange to wonder how Adam would view all of it.
“This is so incredible,” Adam said as he set down the beer on my kitchen table. “Is all the art in here original?”
“Um, most of it is mine, actually.”
“Yours?” Adam asked, his eyebrows raising. “As in, you painted all of it?”
“Yeah,” I said. “It’s not anything that impressive, I promise you.”
“Chase, it’s incredible,” he said, looking around at the paintings I had hung up in the kitchen and back toward the ones lining the walls in the living room. “You’re really talented. The ones of the cities are so detailed.”
I had a couple of paintings of city skylines—one of New York City and another of Singapore.
“Those paintings took forever,” I said. “Detailed pains in my ass, honestly.”
“It was worth it. They’re gorgeous.” He walked over toward the windows that looked out over Spruce Street and all of the trees below. “I like all of the exposed brick in your apartment, too.”
“The brick is very cool,” I said, glancing around at the walls.
There was a pause in our conversation, and Adam just looked out the window for a bit as I stood in the kitchen, feeling more and more self-conscious by the moment. He was wearing a sage green long-sleeve shirt and dark denim, and I couldn’t stop staring at the neckline of his shirt, right where his skin started to show.
I practically ached for him. Jamie had been right—Adam really was off-limits, and I knew that.
But I also couldn’t remember the last time I’d been so attracted to someone.
“So, how has your day been?” Adam asked, turning to face me.
The stark beauty of his eyes made me feel like he had me pinned up against the wall.
Guilty, guilty guilty.
Fuck, I had to tell him the truth. I really cared about him, and the idea of making him uncomfortable in any way crushed me from the inside. The memory of his video from this morning flashed through my mind.
Those eyes, staring out at me from behind a screen.
How fucking hard it made me come.
I realized I’d never answered him, and by now, I’d forgotten what he asked. I swallowed. “Oh, um, what?”
“Just asked how your day has been,” he said, shifting on his feet. “I’ve been loving this breezy summer air. I went for a swim before I left home.”