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 full of buff guys, smells like sweat, and provides some nice eye candy. Though, I have to say, this one also holds a tinge of sadness.
Like when Cooper Stanley, a veteran who lost his leg and is learning to walk with his prosthetic, struggles to get his body to do what his brain is telling it to do. It happens every time I’m here. He gets to a certain point where his body has had enough, yet he keeps pushing.
As I spot Prescott on the bench press, I can’t help thinking how close Pres came to becoming another Cooper.
Prescott’s cast comes off tomorrow, which is awesome, but it’s another reminder that summer is coming to an end.
We’re basically living together, and it’s been easy settling into that routine. But before long, we’re going to have to mix it up again and try to find another new normal.
Maybe that’s what a relationship with both of them will be like. Constant change. Scheduling. Missing one or both of them.
At the beginning of summer, I was certain I could do anything to keep them, but the more time I spend with them, the more I realize being away from them again is going to hurt like a motherfucker.
“A little … help?” Prescott grunts, and I snap out of my preemptive wallowing.
“Shit, sorry.” I help him get the bar back on the rack.
“You have a thing for guys who don’t have use of one leg?” He waggles his eyebrows in Cooper’s direction.
I know the correct answer here isn’t that this whole place makes me think of our uncertain future. “Yep. It’s a fetish,” I say instead. “I like it when my men can’t run away from me.”
“That implies your guys would actually want to. And I speak for both Kit and me when I say we’d never want to leave you.”
I can’t help hearing what he’s not saying: even though we’ll have to.
“How much more have you got to do?” I ask. “I was thinking of taking you out for lunch.”
“Please, I was done two sets ago.”
Of course he was. I don’t know what it is about men, athletes and military in particular, but they’ve always gotta push their limits.
Prescott sits up, and I hand him his crutches.
“Let’s go get lunch.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
prescott
There’s something on Brady’s mind, I can tell, but maybe I shouldn’t bring it up. I’m not sure I want to know the answer.
“What are you going to get?” I ask as we look at our menus.
I have my leg stretched out with my foot resting on the seat next to me while Brady sits opposite. I can’t wait to get this stupid restrictive, smelly, itchy cast off tomorrow. I’ll be put into a walking boot instead, but at least I can take that thing off.
“I dunno. Burger, probably. You?”
“Same. I want all the meat in my mouth.”
Brady’s lips twitch. “I bet you do.”
We order food, but Brady’s weird mood settles over both of us, and I have to ask, “Are you okay?”
He smiles, but it doesn’t look genuine in the slightest. “Tired. My boyfriends kept me up way too late last night.”
I laugh. “Yeah, we did, but I get the feeling that’s not what’s bothering you.”
He glances away. “It’s not. I guess I’m thinking about what happens after next week.”
“Ah. The thing all three of us have been avoiding.”
“Yep. I’ve been trying to forget about it, but everything reminds me that our time is coming to an end.”
I lean forward and cover his hand with mine on top of the table. “Hey, just this visit is coming to an end. We’re in this for the long haul. We want this to work, so we’re going to make it work.” I say the words, but I still see the doubt in Brady’s eyes.
He shifts uncomfortably as he says, “I believe we all want to make it work, but wanting it and being able to do it are two different things. Kit said he’d quit his job and move back to California, but I still have a year left in New—”
I pull back. “Wait. Kit’s quitting his job? He didn’t tell me that.”
“Oh. I assumed that’s what’s going to happen because he said before we were official that if you wanted him for real, he’d drop everything to be with you.”
“He … did?”
Brady facepalms. “Do you two ever communicate? And have I broken some unspoken poly rule here where I’ve interfered in your relationship with each other? Oh no. Am I bad at having two boyfriends?” If he didn’t look so genuinely worried, I’d laugh.
“You haven’t done anything wrong,” I say. “But it does bring up the very good point that maybe we all need to communicate a bit better.”
“I’ve heard communication is supposedly healthy in relationships or whatever.”
“Then, let’s do it. Tomorrow night, after my leg is free and I should know more about how long I’ll be here, the three of us will have a proper sit-down and talk about how we’re going to make this relationship work going forward.”