Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
It’s something I noticed about him the first night Prescott and I picked him up from Bottoms Up. Brady’s young but confident in his own skin. He’s not shy about asking for what he needs, but he also knows his place. For someone so young, he’s so mature when it comes to this sex stuff.
And while my emotional attachment to Brady isn’t as deep as it is for Prescott, there’s no denying it would be easy to fall for Brady too. Here I was worried that Prescott might develop real feelings for Brady and ice me out or that Brady would become clingy and turn both Prescott and me off, and then I’m the one to go and screw everything up by wanting things I can’t have.
“Sorry, did I wake you?” I ask.
“I got cold.” Brady takes the seat next to me.
“Cold? Aren’t you originally from Chicago?”
“Well, when you have two bodies glued to you working like furnaces, you notice when one is missing.”
“Ah.”
“Want to talk about whatever’s going on between you and Prescott? Because I don’t buy the roommate drama for a second.”
That’s another thing I noticed about Brady right away. He’s a perceptive fucker. I was hoping we were more subtle earlier, but I guess not.
“He’s mad at me.”
“What did you do?”
“I …” I don’t want to say that I’m running away, even though that’s exactly what I’m doing, so I go with facts. Only the facts. “An opportunity came up for me to work directly with the Pentagon. Which means moving. To Virginia.”
“You’re leaving him?”
“I’m not leaving him. We’re not together. We’re roommates who have fun with hot young things we pick up in bars.” I take another sip of water, hating myself for reducing Brady to that.
He’s so much more than that, but it’s all been unspoken.
“Yeah, I’m gonna have to call bullshit on that one,” Brady says. “Also, share. I’m thirsty after these two hot old dudes fucked me until I almost passed out.”
“We are not old.”
“Mmhmm. I don’t think anyone whose age starts with a three is allowed to say that.”
“I’m twenty-nine, you fucker.”
Brady drinks the rest of my water, and I swear it’s only half to distract me from his mean, mean words. “Oops.”
“I’ll get you some more.” I go to stand, but he grabs my wrist.
“I’m good.”
“You might be, but I’m not. You drank all my water.”
I love the cheeky expression he gives me while I go get us some more. It’s moments like these I’m going to miss most about him. I mean, I’ll miss the sex too, but in the quiet post-orgasm bliss, I see the real Brady. The guy who makes me and Prescott come back for more.
He isn’t a naive college kid, and I really, really like that.
I also don’t like it because he never holds back what he’s thinking, and when I get back to the table with another glass of water each, he lays into me right away.
“So, yeah. Bullshit.”
“What’s bullshit?”
“That you aren’t together. I know you guys told me you don’t hook up without a third there, but I don’t believe that. I never did.”
“It’s true,” I say. “Mainly because the only time we’re allowed to hook up is when we’re not on duty. At work, we don’t even touch—not even in a friendly manner in case people figure us out.”
“I thought it was okay for gay dudes in the military now?”
“It is, but there are strong fraternization rules. Didn’t we explain this all to you once before?”
“It’s hard to remember what you guys tell me when I’m desperate to get into your pants. If you need me to retain information, you need to tell me after I’ve blown my load.”
“That would’ve been helpful to know a couple of months ago. Not the night before we—” I cut myself off from saying break up because it’s not like we’re together. We have the same deal with Brady as we do with each other. We can only cross lines temporarily before boundaries need to be put in place.
“Part ways?” Brady says, finishing my sentence I’d already forgotten about.
“Exactly.”
“This job you took. Why is Prescott so mad if you’re not anything more than friends? Still calling bullshit, by the way. Even if you guys don’t see it or say it, I’ve always thought you were a couple. And if you’re not, you should be one.” Something like sadness flits through his gaze, and whether he knows what he’s talking about or not, one thing is clear: if Prescott and I were a couple, we’d still want Brady too.
“The position I’m taking wasn’t an ordered transfer.”
Brady smiles. “Ah. And he’s pissed off because you’re not a couple, and you’re voluntarily moving away from him. Got it.”
“You’re such a smartass,” I mutter.
“Why did you apply for the transfer when you’re clearly in love with Prescott?” His tone is teasing, but I tense because he hit the nail on the head. His face falls. “Oh. You applied for it because you’re in love with him.”