Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 121990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Zane’s nostrils flared, and he showed his teeth in warning, like a caveman fighting for a fatty piece of meat. “His boyfriend is an up and coming music star, and has to support his family!”
Gale pouted. “I know places where you can make some money, sweetie.”
Zane slapped him across the face.
Roach shot to his feet and pushed Zane back down. “Jesus Christ! He’s half your size!”
Culver chose this moment to clear his throat like a teacher who found two students making out in the restroom. “Reed. What’s going on here?”
Gale slipped out of the booth and darted away without a word.
Roach’s shoulders sagged. “Sorry, we’re having lunch. Got a bit out of hand.”
Culver’s pale eyes took in the scene, and as he inhaled in a slow, controlled manner, Roach knew the old bastard was thinking of a way to squeeze some money out of this unfortunate situation. The salt-and-chili moustache twitched—the decision’s been made.
Roach’s chest sank as he mentally prepared for eviction, but Zane was quick to show Culver his best smile, a polite one this time, with not even an ounce of malice.
“I am sorry. It’s my fault. I suppose I’m a bit jealous. But who wouldn’t be?” he asked in his thick made-in-Georgia accent.
Roach’s stomach tensed as if he had rats in there and they were trying to eat their way out. This was terrible. Absolutely terrible. Zane was out to wreck his life, and he couldn’t take back the things coming out of that reckless mouth. If they were truly an item, it would have tickled Roach’s ego at least, but all Zane wanted was to burn his life to the ground and dance on its ashes.
“Sorry,” Roach said, trying to salvage the situation. “This is my cousin, he’s being an idiot.”
Zane snorted and patted Culver’s shoulder, making the pale man blush under his faint freckles. “Reed, please, let’s stop hiding. It’s 2020,” he said, and before Roach could have made a sound, Zane parked his ass in his lap, for every single person in the diner to see.
This was his nightmare.
Zane was his nightmare.
Culver huffed, shifted his weight and put his hands in his pockets. “You know what this means.”
Fuck. He could not afford to lose his job.
Culver frowned. “You need to pay rent for two. And keep it down. This is a family restaurant.”
Chapter 9 – Zane
Culver was average-looking in a very non-average way, his face was peppered by pale freckles, and his white hair still retained a red sheen that must have been an intense color in the man’s youth. He wore a Hawaiian shirt under a brown blazer and was certainly prejudiced against gay men, yet not enough to pass up on raising the profits of his ugly motel.
Karma Motel. Who the hell came up with a name like that in south eastern Ohio?
But as Culver walked off, Zane relaxed against Roach’s chest and glanced into his eyes. Had their color become more intense, or was it a trick of light?
“We are exclusive, and you better don’t forget it,” he said as sternly as he could. Whatever relationship Gale thought he had with Roach was now over.
“How can we be exclusive?” Roach gritted his teeth. “Are you really my boyfriend? What is happening right now?”
Roach’s gaze was darting to the sides, as if he were afraid of every single person present. Of the things they might say and do. He’d have to get used to it.
“Those questions don’t make sense.”
“Why not? Get off,” Roach said, but didn't push Zane away, unwilling to cause another scene in a diner full of truckers.
Zane sighed and leaned in, drinking up the panic roaring in Roach’s green eyes. He pressed their noses together, even if briefly, and winked, chuckling when arousal pulsed at the base of his spine. “Don’t you like my ass sitting on your junk?”
“Not in public.” It was almost a whine—the sweetest, most desperate sound. Zane felt like a cat playing with a mouse that already had its tail in a trap. Roach could complain all he wanted but he wasn’t going anywhere.
He pushed his fingers into the warm hair on Roach’s nape, sensing the sweat there. “About that exclusivity thing,” he mused, ignoring all the other people dining around them. They could all fuck themselves if they had a problem with one person sitting in another’s lap.
“Can I just finish my meal? You’ve done enough damage.” Roach nudged Zane’s thigh, once again unsuccessful at getting him to slide back to the seat.
“How good are those blowjobs he gives you?” Zane asked, deciding to give him a break. He moved off Roach and sat next to him, watching him push back the messy hair falling into his eyes. He would not lose Roach’s interest to a barely-legal crackhead.
"You can't actually be jealous, since you’re not actually my boyfriend,” Roach grumbled and started shoving the remaining food into his mouth as if he were about to hit some kind of deadline on occupying the table.