Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
The question was…what would drive him so nuts he’d forget to clean his messes or think of others? Obviously, it would be spiteful and mean-spirited to undo his handiwork. I had to come up with something else. Something that hit his weak spot. Something like—
Oh. Wow.
I really was a genius.
Friday afternoon, aka day six of Operation Henry the Eighth, I let my students out of class ten minutes early and rescheduled a tutoring session. I needed extra time and minimal distractions. And I needed to make sure I was home first.
I swung by the market, bought five pounds of ice, dragged a huge cooler out of the garage, and got straight to work.
My heart raced when the front door squealed on its hinges late Friday afternoon. Tommy had mentioned that Noah was meeting him on campus after work today, and Cole had a date with his girlfriend, Beth. Which meant that could only be—
“Yo, anybody home?”
“In the living room,” I called just as my cell rang. I glanced at the caller ID and frowned. Marlon. I figured it might take a while before Ezra noticed anything amiss, so I answered.
“Hello?”
“Good evening, Holden. I received your message and wanted to inquire after your health,” Marlon said in his clipped and very serious voice.
I set the stack of papers I was grading on the sofa and paced to the doorway, listening for the telltale creak of the floorboards above. Yep, he was upstairs. I had approximately five to ten minutes until Ezra found his way to the kitchen.
“I’m fine, Marlon.”
“Very well. Shall I adjust our dinner reservation for later this evening?”
“No, thank you. I believe I told you it would be best to cancel. I want to catch up on my grading for my summer-term classes,” I replied, staring at the ceiling.
“That’s commendable. What about tomorrow?”
“Marlon…we discussed this. I wish you well, but—”
“Sunday works too.”
I sighed. I didn’t want to be needlessly hurtful, but we’d covered this the other night. I’d tried to explain that the slow-moving claustrophobic vibe I’d felt every time we spoke lately signaled the end was nigh. I’d even tried to explain that I probably would never be in the market for a “real” relationship…with anyone, but Marlon had shrugged off my concerns and changed the subject.
I had no choice but to repeat myself.
“Marlon, our association has reached a critical juncture and I’m sorry to say, this isn’t working for me anymore.”
“Oh. You were…serious?” he sputtered.
“Yes, I’m afraid so. I don’t think we’re on the same wavelength or—”
“Wavelengths can be adjusted. Time, space, velocity, and frequency are all crucial factors. I’m willing to be flexible. Let’s dine tomorrow to discuss this in person. I’ll procure a reservation at…”
Clop clop clop
I tuned Marlon out, nodding distractedly when Ezra saluted as he hit the bottom step before heading for the kitchen. I heard the refrigerator open and shut, then the pantry door, followed by a growly expletive. I bit the inside of my cheek as I paced to the wide windows in the living room, schooling my features to deal with my pesky roommate.
As well as Marlon.
“I’m sorry, Marlon, but…no.”
“I see,” he replied. “I understand and I respect your feelings. However, you must agree that the sexual component of our liaison is quite desirable. There’s no reason we can’t continue our allegiance as friends with carnal benefits.”
My eyes bugged out of their sockets.
Ezra stormed into the room before I could respond. “Yo, where the fuck is my food?”
I spun to face him, holding a finger to my lips. One problem at a time.
“Friends with benefits?” I squeak-whispered, trying and failing to picture myself in a sex-only relationship with Marlon.
I worked with Marlon, for crying out loud. Not in the same department, but we had too much crossover to make a casual fling work. And honestly, our sexual chemistry wasn’t strong enough for me to consider it.
“Yes, I was going to bring this up tonight. It’s a tidy solution to a modern problem. I like the idea of having a boyfriend and you’re quite suitable, but I don’t want to pressure you. That would be unfair. The important thing is that we’re familiar with one another and sexually compatible and—who is that?”
“My food? Where is it?” Ezra glowered, hands on his hips.
“Um…” I smiled wanly at Ezra and took a deep breath before addressing Marlon. “That’s my roommate. He’s looking for something. I have to go.”
“Very well,” Marlon conceded. “Think about my suggestion, Holden. We have a lot in common. We know each other fairly well, and we’re comfortable with intimate exploration. If you find the idea amenable, we can set a schedule. Perhaps two or three times a week for…”
“Intimate exploration,” I supplied, stepping away from Ezra.
It didn’t work. Ezra followed me, mouthing, “Where is my food?” while pantomiming a spooning cereal gesture.