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)
Blake’s answers were frustratingly vague. He claimed to love touching his man and said it wasn’t weird on any level. He also mentioned that discussing sexual preferences before getting into bed with a partner, man or woman, was prudent. Also, lots of lube made anything possible. And yes, it was very, very worth it.
Then he guffawed like a hyena on laughing gas while I sat there with my mouth open, wondering if there was a subtle way to press him for more info, like…what did it actually feel like to fuck a man?
Just a tad invasive, right? I know, I know. I was terrible. I’d been told my avid curiosity and wonky filter would serve me well in a courtroom. But I recognized that some personal spaces were sacred, even amongst close friends. Blake didn’t have to dissect any aspect of his relationship for his buddies. The fact that he shared anything at all and was honest about it was more than enough.
And of course, he had our acceptance. That wasn’t even a question. Geez, I was as close to Blake and Cole as I was to my older brother, Ryan. Though, to be honest, Ry was the only family member I spoke with consistently anymore.
Quick family sidenote: I was the youngest of the three Marsden brothers by a long shot. The oops kid. My oldest brother, Dean was forty-two and head honcho at a tech firm that sold Internet security firewalls to the government or something like that. Maybe? I got updates about him from Ryan, who’d slipped into the role of custodian and keeper of familial info after Mom remarried and moved to Europe. Ryan was a twice-married, forty-year-old father of three, and an all-around good guy.
He was the one who’d talked me out of quitting college after Dad passed away and the one who’d encouraged me to enroll in law school. He was always there for me, and I liked to think I reciprocated to a degree. For example, when Ryan’s thirteen-year-old stepson came out to him six months ago, I gave him some “queer support” tips.
And kind of…came out.
Oh. Right. Well, okay. This wasn’t exactly common knowledge, but I was as queer as Blake.
Hey now, don’t get excited. No one knew.
Except Ry. But telling him hadn’t felt like a true revelation. I’d cited my own experience of supporting Blake, then added that everyone was a little on the bi side. Including me. Don’t ask why, ’cause it really was a fucking mystery, but I’d also mentioned that I had a “little, tiny, no big deal and don’t make a big deal out of it” crush on my roommate—who happened to be a nerdy, gay professor.
Yep. That was also true. I had a crush on Holden. More on that later.
Ryan had gone deadly quiet on the phone for long enough to make things awkward. I’d backtracked a bit, but he intercepted and told me how much he appreciated my honesty. He also enlisted me to chat with Gus and pass along whatever wisdom I had…which, of course, was none.
I didn’t say that, though. I went with it ’cause I wanted to help Gus if I could. And it felt very fucking nice to admit to someone I trusted that I had a thing for the geek who kinda, sorta hated my guts.
I’d tried to tell myself this “thing” was hyperawareness. Nothing sexy. So what if my skin tingled and my desire to act like an overgrown ape skyrocketed whenever Holden was around? That didn’t mean anything, and it never would.
The reality was…Holden and I didn’t get along. He and I were oil and water, fire and ice.
I didn’t get it.
Holden was friendly, outgoing, and helpful to everyone he met. He waved to random neighbors, fed Felix the cat for the old lady next door in spite of his allergies, and regularly hosted science experiment nights with Lincoln, the ten-year-old stepson of the guy whose place I took when I moved in last summer. Bottom line, Holden was a great guy.
I was a great guy too—ask anyone. But for some reason, we didn’t click. Every time I thought I was growing on him, he’d snap my head off for leaving a single crumb on the counter or leaving dishes in the sink. I figured I’d win him over eventually.
Unless I did something ridiculous like stage a romance so my boss’s daughter could “get to know her professor.”
Don’t worry. Not gonna happen. And I was also never in a million years going to cop to having the tiniest bit of a thing for him. No way. Our mutual connections made complete honesty unwise. I’d decided not to come out to my friends until after I’d taken the bar exam and moved out and—
“What’s up with you?” Cole elbowed me in the ribs, pulling me from my reverie. “Bad day at the office?”