Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 140629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 703(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 469(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 703(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 469(@300wpm)
“It’s not funny. I… I actually just found out Caspian paid off my debt.” It sounded so simple when said like that. As if this didn’t change both his and Noah’s life for good.
Noah grabbed Gunner’s shoulder and stepped in front of him, brown eyes wide. “No way! What the fuck? That’s insane!”
Gunner chuckled. “Guess I gave good head, huh?” The dirty joke made him flush, because he was still getting accustomed to his brother knowing about his sexuality. But, damn, it felt so good to be open about this.
Noah wouldn’t stop laughing, his smile so wide and pristine. “So what? You’re his sugar baby now?”
“It’s not like that. I told you we’re not… you know, we’re just not anymore. It’s different now. I’m pretty sure he wants to move on with his life.”
Noah frowned. “Come on, Gun! No one donates thousands of dollars to get on with their life. Have you actually talked to him since… you know?” he asked, pushing Gunner at a bench adjacent to a decorative platform made up to look like a deserted island, complete with a fake palm tree and sand.
“Not yet. He’s probably very busy with his new job and shit. He’s like… really smart, and needs to unfuck everything I did.” Gunner pulled on his thumb in frustration as his gaze drifted to the piano, where he’d first met Alexander Fuckface. Was there a chance that his soul, or whatever had travelled between him and Caspian, still remembered how to play? He’d been too afraid to check so far, but the vacant bench by the instrument tempted him even when he ignored its call and focused on Noah.
“Don’t say that! Gunner, are you blind? This guy likes you. And I mean that he’s into you,” Noah said and dropped next to Gunner.
“He was into a tiny cutie with big blue eyes. So even if he still likes me as a friend, he doesn’t—” Pain speared Gunner’s heart as if it had been stabbed with an ice pick. “Fuck. Why are you making me talk about it?”
Noah rolled his eyes and grinned. “‘Cause I don’t have a love life? Mom’s TV broke down, so how else am I to entertain myself?”
Gunner shook his head, once again looking toward the piano. “You’re such a little shit.”
Noah must have noticed where his attention went, because he pointed at the instrument. “Try playing. You knew how to when you were in his body. Let’s see if your brain still remembers.”
Gunner’s back covered in goosebumps, but he wasn’t a coward and wouldn’t back down from a challenge. Yet as he neared the piano, worry snuck its way under his skin and whispered that he was being watched, and that every single person passing by knew he didn’t belong behind the gorgeous instrument. That he was a brainless chunk of muscle no one wanted around. Still, he hovered his fingers over the black and white keys and tried not to panic when he realized how thick and inelegant they were.
But Noah was close, so Gunner swallowed his fear and sat, placing both hands on the keyboard. The speakers, which so far blasted pop songs, went quiet, as if leaving space for him to make music, but as the air thickened in his throat, he couldn’t help but feel out of place with his sausage-like digits resting on the smooth keys.
Closing his eyes, Gunner shut out the white noise around him and remembered the first piece of music he’d played in Caspian’s home. The desire to bring the beautiful melody to life kindled deep in his chest, but while he remembered its sound by heart, his hands remained still, like dead weights that couldn’t recognize why they were on the keyboard in the first place.
The sound system came back to life, roaring about a sale in the department store, but the speaker’s cheerful voice beat Gunner down farther.
He should have never touched the piano.
It wasn’t for someone like him.
He pressed a few of the keys in hope that their sound would spark his memory, but he couldn’t remember someone else’s life and experience.
“You can’t do it?” Noah whispered, as if he were afraid that he might shatter Gunner by talking too loudly.
A part of Gunner had stupidly hoped that if all else failed, he could try his hand at becoming a piano teacher. A pipe dream that could never come true now.
He shook his head, too choked up to speak, but set on not crying in public. Or at all.
That was it. He’d never play again, because he was a dumb ogre who hadn’t even finished high school. Jobless. Homeless. With a murky past and no friends.
Without the man who made him feel so many things and took care of him.
His life was worthless.
“Look, I shouldn’t have asked. Let’s have lunch, okay?” Noah tried, pulling on Gunner’s arm.