Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“Your skin, it’s so soft,” he whispered. “I’ve been wondering if it would feel as smooth as it looks. And your hair…” He threaded his fingers through my long bangs. “So beautiful.”
I had always thought of my hair as too fine and limp, but Connor made me feel as if it were spun silk. I wanted to pinch myself to see if I was dreaming. Connor was straight. How could he possibly be touching my face, my hair, as if reverently worshipping me?
I watched the line of his throat as he swallowed. Then he spoke again. “I… I’ve always wanted…” He shook his head, and his hands fell to his lap. “I’m sorry.”
Before I could say anything, Connor strode toward the door, each step coming faster until he was running. I considered going after him but stayed right where he’d left me. I touched my face. Was it really still warm from Connor’s caresses, or was that my imagination? Would I ever stop feeling his fingers there and in my hair?
Long after I heard his truck start up and zoom away, I realized he’d left a bag of cleaning supplies in the foyer. Would he come back for them? Not tonight. I was sure of that.
The image of Connor watching me intently stuck with me. I’d wanted to kiss him more than I’d ever wanted anything. Why had he run? Did his desire for me scare him? Make him angry? Embarrass him? If I had kissed him, would he have stayed? What if he sent Sabrina or one of his other employees to pick up the supplies? What if I never saw him again?
I shook my head. I wouldn’t let that happen. There were too many questions I needed answered. I could return his supplies to him. Then he would have to talk to me, right? It was worth a shot. Not now, though. He needed some time first.
The thought of what David would say about my plan made me cringe. It was exactly like something David would plan himself, but I knew he wouldn’t approve of me doing it. As if David heard me thinking of him, my phone buzzed.
U got planz 2nite
Did David really have to text like a child? Come over. I’ll make dinner.
Ooo. What’s up?
Nothing.
Liar.
Bring good beer and you might find out.
David sent a tongue-sticking-out emoji, and I stuffed my phone in my pocket. How pathetic was it that I needed seduction advice from my straight friend?
Who but a straight guy can help you bag a straight guy?
I brought my hand to my face again and traced the line of my cheekbone just like Connor had. No way in hell was Connor straight. Accepting my hand on his shoulder or a hug, those were all in the realm of normal for straight-guy friendship, but caressing another man, commenting on his skin, his hair? That was absolutely not straight behavior.
Danger. Danger.
If Connor was in the closet, which he certainly seemed to be, pursuing him was foolish. I had sworn I’d never date a closeted man. I’d worked too hard for my own freedom. Of course, even when my boyfriend was out and proud, I could easily get hurt. Silas had been as gay as he could be until he decided being straight would be better for his career. Or rather, pretending to be straight and marrying a woman who wanted his money so badly she didn’t care who he fucked on the side.
But a relationship with Connor wouldn’t be easy, even if it was possible. I was sure of that. I might have been able to walk away if he was just a hot guy who pushed my buttons, but he was more than that. Connor was complex, and something about him called to me, made me want to heal him as surely as he wanted to heal his friend Mario.
David would give me no end of grief for that. I had never been a caretaker. In fact, I didn’t have much use for other people most of the time, David being an exception. In the past, I had preferred to stay in my cabin writing, reading, and ignoring the world. Maybe that was the reason I’d only had one relationship, albeit a shitty one, even before Silas had leapt back into the closet.
But I could change, couldn’t I? I could learn how to be more caring if that was what Connor needed. At least, I could try.
10
Jeremy
“What the hell are you wearing?” I asked when David sauntered into the kitchen wearing a neon orange sweatshirt, black jeans that might as well have been leggings, yellow high-top sneakers, and a plaid fluorescent beret that I could have lived my whole life without seeing. It looked like a packet of highlighters had exploded, and David had rolled in the detritus.