Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 47200 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47200 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Turns out old Mr. Rodgers won’t have anyone work on his prized truck except my dad.
But dad manages to get the morning free, and after a sleepless night of thinking about nothing but Brandon, there’s no way I’m just gonna sit at home and sulk that I can’t go pick him up without dad being there.
I reason to myself that being the third wheel for a couple of hours is way better than no Brandon.
And once dad goes back to work, it’ll be just Brandon and me.
Or at least, I hope so.
So once we’re on our way, I almost forget all about how badly I want to have Brandon all to myself.
I mean, I can hardly stand straight when he looks at me. How would I really be if it was just him and me, all alone together?
I’d probably be a nervous wreck, so having Dad around as a bit of a buffer suits me fine for now, seeing Brandon again after so many months.
For a little while, at least, just until my nerves settle.
I was practically swimming in my own juices last night. Even put a towel down in the end. I was so wet just thinking about him.
And once I spot Brandon in the airport crowd after parking the car, I feel exactly the same, only stronger.
Wetter and hornier for him than I ever thought possible.
But nowhere near as nervous as I thought I’d be the closer he gets, taking huge steps toward me that only a man his size can.
The overtired look I know we both share after a sleepless night vanishes from his features once he spots me.
I wonder what kept Brandon up all night, and yeah. A little part of me is wishing and hoping it was for the same reasons I couldn’t sleep.
But I’ll never know for sure.
It feels like everyone else at the airport disappears when our eyes lock again, and for a moment, it really feels like it’s Brandon and me alone.
My body reaches for his out of need as well as reflex.
I’ve thought about the last time he held me over and over again for the past six months. And once I feel those huge, strong arms around me again, it really does feel like we’re picking up right where we left off.
He feels better than I remember, and the smell of his cologne mixed with freshly laundered and pressed clothes is enough for me to want to hold onto him forever.
My dad’s here too, though, and it isn’t long before the moment’s broken up by him getting in between us. Not wanting to miss out on another chance to embrace his best friend too.
I should be annoyed by that, but the look Brandon shoots at me are the same eyes he gave me during the video chat I interrupted, and I’m shivering inside once those deep brown eyes smolder under his cocked brow.
They’re broadcasting a helluva lot more than the few plain words he says, which I’m certain are only because of my dad hovering so close.
It’s great to see dad so happy for a change too, and when he announces dinner plans and everything else he wants to spend time doing with his best friend, I zone out and walk on a little ahead.
I didn't want to look like a third wheel, but I also needed to get some air in my lungs.
My chest freezes up and gets stiff whenever Brandon’s close to me, and my arms and hands only want to reach out for him to hold me again.
Not a good look with my dad so close, and I notice he’s still studying his best friend’s behavior whenever he’s close to me.
A dad’s protective instinct or just my imagination?
Every time I catch dad eyeing Brandon, he only smiles and changes the subject.
I offer to drive us home so dad and Brandon can chat, but dad insists on driving us back.
Brandon’s in front, with the front seat far back, so he fits. He’s practically in the back seat with me anyway.
In between my dad fires a million questions about what he’s been up to, and Brandon casually shifts any and all conversation back to me.
Asking me how I’m doing and how life after college is treating me, anything to interact with me.
But dad gives him a sidelong stare during the silence that follows Brandon asking me if I have a boyfriend.
It throws me, too. I mean, nobody’s ever asked me that, for starters.
And my dad’s quicker to ask Brandon why he’d need to know that, and I can’t help feeling mad that I don’t even get to tell him I don’t have a boyfriend.
Never have and probably never will.
Especially if my dad’s always gonna be so defensive whenever the topic comes up.
I thought Brandon coming to town was supposed to be a good thing, but my dad seems different around his oldest pal now that he’s actually here.