Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
It’s surreal, cutting through the crowds, hand-in-hand, with this enigma of a man I just met last night. I feel like at any moment, my stupid, imagination-filled self could just wake up back in my loft to the sound of lesbians banging in the other room, and realize this had all been a dream.
He is holding my hand.
Adrian, protective, strong, kind, is holding my hand.
When we come to a stop, it’s in front of the ring toss kiosk where only a few others have gathered. From here, there is a perfect view of the fireworks. I realize now they must be set off some distance away from the fair itself, probably to obey a fire code or safety protocol.
Adrian’s arms come around me from behind suddenly, locking around my waist, holding my back against his chest as we gaze up at the fireworks.
I freeze.
I’m in his arms. He’s holding me like I’m his boyfriend now. This casual moment just became super romantic.
What is Adrian doing?
Now the last thing on my mind is fire codes and safety whatever-the-fuck. All I’m thinking about is whether a tiny embrace like this can make me pop a boner.
“Does this give you any inspiration?” asks Adrian in a tone so soft, it feels like a taunt, tickling my ear and casting electricity down my arms. He gives me a little squeeze, then rests his chin on my shoulder. “I haven’t forgotten.”
Haven’t forgotten? “Uh …?”
“About your summer showcase thing. You told me all about it last night, how you’re here to get ideas, find your inspiration, gather visuals … whatever you may need.” He points over my shoulder at the sky. “See? You could paint a starry horizon with big ol’ fireworks.”
I’m having trouble breathing. “Y-Yeah. I could.”
He’s so close to me that I feel his crotch against my ass, his firm, muscular chest against my back, and his arm affixed tightly around my waist, holding me like a stuffed prize he just won by shooting a water gun at a tiny target.
It feels a bit possessive, like he doesn’t want me to get away from him.
It feels partly protective, too, like he’s shielding me from the sight of Vann who’s likely hunting me down after I ditched him at the Merry-Go-Round on account of getting another hot pretzel. Aren’t I such a stellar friend?
And it feels sexual, because if his arm was just an inch or two lower, he’d be touching my dick, which is starting to react to the close proximity of his body against mine.
“Is it okay that I’m holding you?” he asks softly in my ear. “I can let go if you want.”
“No, it’s alright,” I answer a touch too quickly.
“You sure?”
“Yep.”
“I just figured, y’know, since there’s no chance in hell of us hooking up, it’s a totally safe yet comforting way for us to enjoy the show.”
“No chance in hell,” I agree.
His arm squeezes a little tighter.
His crotch presses more firmly against my ass.
I bite my lip so hard, I swear I can taste my damned pulse through my teeth.
My heart is beating so fast, there’s no way in hell he can’t feel it right now. Who is playing with whom here?
“Your hair smells nice.”
I flinch. “What?”
“Your hair. Sorry. It’s sorta in my face.” Adrian rests his chin on my shoulder again, relaxing his grip on me—though I still feel his body against my whole backside like it’s glued there. “Raspberries or something, I dunno.”
“It’s …” How can I concentrate on anything else?? “I think it’s Vann’s shampoo. Or his boyfriend’s. I showered before I got here. That’s what’s in your nostrils.”
“I like it.”
It’s not that I’m not enjoying this on some level, but … “Can you stop sniffing my hair, weirdo?”
“What? It’s in my face. Shut up.”
“You’re the one who’s insisting on holding me.”
“So you want me to let go?”
“No.”
“Fine, I won’t.”
“Fine.”
The sky continues to explode above us, crackling with colors, shapes, and scattering sparks. Adrian’s hand moves ever so slightly across my stomach, like a gentle caress. I bask for a moment in the peace (and turmoil) my heart is feeling right now as I’m held in Adrian’s arms.
It’s been a long time.
I glance off to the side, about to ask Adrian something trivial about the fireworks—when my eyes catch sight of Vann walking through the aisles between the games. He is looking around in all directions, clearly searching for me.
And just when I thought I was in the clear.
I turn my face away. “Fuck.”
Adrian, likely oblivious, lifts his chin off my shoulder. “What? Am I holding you too tight?”
“My friend. He’s here, looking for me.” I spin around at once—which unintentionally brings my face very close to Adrian’s startled one. “If he finds me, we’re gonna have a huge dumb fight about me directly disobeying him.”
“Disobeying him? What is he, your dad?”