Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
But at the same time, I feel like I’m going to burst out of my skin with anticipation for our dinner with Steven.
The door next to his opens and someone clears their throat. I look at the blond man and let my first thought burst free. “Sorry. I can’t keep my hands off him. He just made my fucking night.”
Gary nearly chokes on his tongue. I press another kiss to his mouth, set him on his feet and then head down the hallway, hope zipping through my insides. “Thank you, Gary!” I yell as I walk away, knowing he’s probably bright red behind me. “I don’t know what I would do without you!” Doors start opening, everyone wondering what the hell is going on.
“Holy shit,” someone says, “he’s got it bad.”
No. I’ve got a chance. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. A chance to make my dreams come true.
11
Gary
“This is fucking ridiculous,” Derek exclaims as I watch the green bar inch across the screen, letting me know how close we are to the end of this virus scan.
“Derek, I’m pretty confident it’s from watching all that free online porn.”
I sit in front of his laptop at the desk in his bedroom, facing the wall-length window that overlooks the pool deck on the seventh floor.
“I need to fucking use that tonight,” Derek says.
“Why? To watch more porn?”
Derek glares at me. He just got home from work, so he’s all dressed up, wearing a short-sleeved button-down with a black bow tie. His hair’s gelled into an arc over his head.
He groans and stomps away from the desk, walking alongside his bed. “I think I might be able to schedule in a ten o’clock and a two thirty.”
Tomorrow’s Saturday, so he’s obviously talking about tricks, not clients.
“This is why I came over here? So you could line up your weekend fucks?”
He approaches the dresser on the other side of his bed, opens the top drawer, and retrieves a set of powder-blue binoculars before returning to the window.
“The blinds aren’t even shut,” I say. Not judging him for the binoculars since I have my own pair. Just for how obvious he’s being.
“Whatever. They can all do the same thing. I’m not ashamed.”
He looks down at some of the hunks in speedos who lie across lounge chairs around the pool. Hard not to look down when there are so many abs and bulging packages to enjoy. This view is basically an amenity.
“Not all of us have a fake boyfriend we can hit up anytime for a booty call.”
I told Derek right after the fundraiser to keep his big mouth shut about our lie because I’m not interested in becoming the next featured story in David Magazine or Project Q or some other Gay Atlanta news source as the freak who made up a convoluted lie so I could convince my d-bag ex I’m not the pathetic miserable loser I am.
“Speaking of which,” I say, “we have that big dinner tonight.”
Strange to think we’ve already been doing this for nearly two weeks.
“Oh, yeah,” he says, not pulling the binoculars from his face as he continues perusing the hotties below. “Speaking of which…you’re being careful about this, right?”
“Yeah. We used condoms.”
He lowers the binoculars.
“That’s not what I meant. You’re not exactly the kind of guy who hooks up, and then calls it quits. You were in a relationship for five years.”
“Trust me, the last thing I want is to get involved with a guy like Travis.”
He eyes me suspiciously. “But you are involved with him.”
“What are you talking about? This is all just an act.”
And a convincing one, considering we’ve seen each other every day this week—hitting up the gym and grabbing meals together. We’re doing all those things couples do in public, including holding hands as we make our way down the street, which is awkward as hell to do with a guy I’m not actually in a relationship with.
“Intellectually, I get it’s pretend,” Derek says. “But you’re still having sex with him.”
“Once. We had sex once.”
“Okay. Whatever. Had sex once. Going on dates with him. God knows, every gay in town knows you guys are always at the fucking gym together. I’m surprised you don’t look like the Hulk already. Although, I’ll admit you have a nice little bump in your biceps right now.”
I glance at the sleeve of my polo, noticing it fits slightly better than before.
“Guess someone’s upping those weights now that he has to impress people.”
“Whatever. I don’t know. It’s strange. We had dinner the other week and—”
“Check,” he says as he makes an imaginary check mark in the air before him.
“What?”
“I’m going to check off my imaginary list every time you say something super boyfriendy about this guy who you’re not going to develop feelings for.”
“No. We were at Mike’s and—”
“Check.”
“He said something about needing to have a story for how we met.”