Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
“It was just a kiss. Doesn’t have to mean anything—”
“It didn’t,” Apollo said far too curtly, but his chest felt cracked open and hell if he could moderate his tone.
“Well, okay then.” Dylan’s voice was sharp as he stepped around him. “I just don’t want things to be weird.”
“They won’t be,” Apollo lied.
“Of course they will be.” Dylan’s laugh was like bitter taffy. Sweet with a bite. “I’m just saying. We’re both adults. There’s no reason we couldn’t—”
“We are never going there.” Apollo cut that argument off before Dylan could convince him to be stupid. “Again. Ever. Am I clear?”
“You. Kissed. Me.” Dylan poked him in the chest, clearly not going to let him have the fantasy where Dylan had been the one to close the gap. “But, sure, lecture away if that makes you feel better.”
“Sorry.” Apollo knew he was being a dick. “I just don’t want to lead you on—”
“Oh, trust me, there’s no risk of that.” Dylan shook his head. “Night, Apollo.”
Dylan headed back into the house, leaving him standing there. Apollo watched him, stood there until the second-story window to Dylan’s room lit up, leaving him all alone in the dark, dripping wet, impervious to the cool night air thanks to super-heated kisses that were not meant to be.
Chapter Eight
Dylan was done with this week. Apollo had worked long hours all week and avoided him when home like Dylan was contagious. Ha. If he was suffering from anything, it was awkwarditis, caused by one stubborn SEAL who refused to talk about what had happened like adults. But whatever. Allie and her friends wanted to go out, so out he would go.
“That shirt doesn’t fit,” Chloe observed from the doorway of Dylan’s room. “You should put it in the giveaway box.”
“It fits.” Dylan tugged it down a bit.
“Why’d you put goop on your head?” Sophia asked. “It smells.”
“It’s hair product. It makes my hair look nice.” Dylan gave himself a last glance in the mirror. He did look smoking. Close fitting lavender shirt with little white buttons, black jeans with a silver belt, and his favorite clubbing boots—thick enough to protect his toes from stomping, but still light enough for easy dancing.
“I want some!” Chloe grabbed for the can of mousse.
“Your Baba would roast me if I did your hair all crazy.” Dylan took the can back.
“Please!”
“Please!” Both girls stuck out their lower lips and did their best pout, crowding him when he tried to leave the room.
Oh what the heck. It wasn’t like he and Apollo were already on great terms. “How about buns? And then it really is time for pajamas.”
He had just finished taming the last of Chloe’s curls into a space-age-looking bun when he heard the door downstairs.
“Baba!” The girls ran toward the door.
“What’s this?” Apollo gestured between the girls and Dylan as he made his way downstairs.
“Dylan’s leaving.” Chloe did the mock pout again as Apollo lifted her up with a grimace. Damn it. The man needed to see someone about his back acting up, but when Dylan had mentioned it earlier in the week, he’d waved off the concern.
“Leaving?” Both Apollo’s eyebrows went up. “Like that?”
“I’m going out with some friends after you get the girls settled.” Dylan tried to sound casual, control the inexplicable racing of his heart.
“Girls. Pajamas and teeth brushing. Now.” Apollo gestured at the stairs. “I’ll be up to do the story in a moment.”
Dylan waited until the girls were headed up the stairs to speak. “You know the stern parental thing really doesn’t work on me. I’m not some teenager sneaking out of the house.”
“You didn’t let me know you’d be going out.” Apollo didn’t drop the ‘tude. Still in his uniform, he looked more rumpled than his usual perfection, deep lines bracketing his eyes and mouth.
If he wasn’t being such a colossal dick, Dylan would offer another back rub. And it wasn’t like Dylan had had some grand plan to seduce Apollo the other night. The kiss had just kind of happened. And then Apollo flipped out, and now, instead of a beer and back rub, all Dylan had to offer was his absence. Hell, Apollo should be happy he was leaving for a few hours.
“You texted that you were running late. I didn’t want you to feel bad if you got trapped at work. I was ready to text my crew and bail if that happened.”
“Where are you headed? And with whom?”
“Dude.” Dylan got right in Apollo’s face, height difference be damned. “It’s Friday night in America, and you happen to live in one of the most gay-friendly neighborhoods in the city. We’re going to hit up a few places, see what’s happening. As for the whom, I’m not sure that’s your business.”
“It is if it’s my friends,” Apollo ground out.
Dylan laughed, finally getting it. The big guy was hella jealous, not that he was going to admit that. He dropped his voice to make sure it didn’t carry up the stairs. “What? You afraid of me going out with Maddox and Ben? I’m pretty sure Maddox would let me do him, but—”