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)
“There’s no other way.” Brady sounds so disappointed.
“You can’t just tell them that—” Prescott starts.
“That you two are some randos I let fuck me whenever we get the chance? You’re twice my age, and—”
“Not twice your age,” Prescott grumbles.
I nudge him because Brady seems genuinely stressed-out. While it stings that he put us in that box—some older guys he lets play with him occasionally—I’m hoping it’s because it’s his way of separating what we say we have and what we actually have. Something that’s impossible but special.
“I can’t …” Brady takes a deep breath. “I can’t tell them. I’m not ready.”
I get out of bed and approach him because he’s on the verge of a meltdown. I cup his face, and he tries to pull out of my grip, but my fingers tighten around his chin. “Tell them what, sweetheart?”
Brady’s practically hyperventilating. “I don’t want them to know in case they tell me to end it. I’m not ready to end it.”
“Hey, it’s okay.” I rub Brady’s arms from his shoulder to elbow and back up again. “We’ll go.” I kiss the tip of his nose.
He relaxes for only a fraction of a second when footsteps sound up the stairs.
“I gave you plenty of warning, brother. Hope you have your clothes—” The door handle rattles, and I step behind it as Prescott uses SEAL stealth to roll off the bed so he can’t be seen.
Brady opens his door only enough for him to slip out. “I heard you, I heard you. All of Manhattan probably heard you.”
“You’re grumpy today,” Peyton says.
“I was woken up by some asshole who was supposed to go see Dad and Pop first.”
“I did. They wanted to come here to see my wittle brother.”
Their voices disappear, along with their footsteps, and I let out a breath.
“How are we supposed to get out of here without them seeing?” Prescott asks.
I go over to the window I opened in the middle of the night to let some fresh air into the sex-scented room. Outside, there’s a large drop to the ground and no trellis, but there is a bit of a ledge, and it’s only one floor.
Prescott appears beside me, fully dressed. “Think you can make the jump, old man? You’ve been out of the game for two years now.”
“Not only will I make it, I’ll make it look good.”
Prescott snorts.
I move away from the window to get my clothes—minus my underwear, thanks to Brady. Once I’m dressed and we both put our shoes and socks on, we approach the window again.
“We need to be stealthy,” I say.
“Did you not see that awesomely silent maneuver of getting to the floor? But, uh, what do we do about our bags?” Prescott asks.
“The ones we left in the living room yesterday? Abandon them. Say goodbye to whatever you have in there.”
“Aww, man, my favorite pair of jeans are in there. I thought Brady might’ve taken us out New York clubbing.”
“You’re too old for clubbing. It’s time to let go of your youth.” I pat his shoulder. “I don’t want to be the one to tell you this, but … you’re an adult now.”
“Fuck you, am not.” Prescott’s a bit too loud, so I have to cover his mouth.
I put my finger to my lips with my other hand. “What happened to stealth?”
Prescott murmurs something, but it’s too muffled, and I refuse to let him talk until I know for sure no one downstairs heard us.
When I think it’s safe, I release him. “Let’s get out of here before Brady’s family finds us.”
Something passes over Prescott’s face before he covers it and pushes me toward the window. “Age before beauty.”
“Fuck off. Watch how easy I can get down.”
“I know you’re easy to go down. Getting down is another thing.”
I put my leg out the window and sit half inside, half out. “First one to get down will go down when we find a hotel room for tonight, seeing as Brady’s place is no longer an option.”
“I’ll take that bet. I’ll even give you the head start.” Prescott pushes me out the window so he can join me, and then we’re both standing on the small ledge that’s not even a foot wide.
“If you get caught, you’re disqualified,” I say.
“If we get caught, Brady won’t let us live at all.”
“True. Ready?”
“Whenever you are.”
I take off for the side of the building. We need to be fast so we aren’t seen by passersby or anyone who could call the cops on us at any minute.
Unlike me, who’s going to the corner of the house to avoid being seen through the windows, Prescott is cocky enough to think he’s invisible. He smirks at me as he turns and flattens himself against the brick wall, and as easy as stepping off a train platform backward, he drops and catches the ledge with his fingers. Now he hangs there, feet close to touching the window shade below, and I know I need to move even faster.