Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 73828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
I don’t like lying to my friend, but he’d be weird about this. Plus, I can’t say we’re the best of buds since he’s still hanging out with Greg after what happened the other week. I know it’s a lot to expect him to choose sides, but it still irritates the shit out of me.
We catch up some more, talking about classes and gossip that’s circulating through a few of our mutual friends before I let him know I need to head out to catch up on my homework. That’s not the reason, though. It’s that Tim texted to let me know he wants to swing by to pick up his clothes.
I tidy up and take care of a little personal hygiene in case inspiration has its way with us, and Tim has his way with me.
While I was preparing for him to come over, I made sure the condoms were conveniently placed in the nightstand of my bedroom and checked to ensure there was enough lube.
I don’t know why I’m so obsessed with having sex with him again.
He won’t want to.
I keep reminding myself I’ve blown whatever chance we had to be a regular hookup the moment I acted like a clumsy fuck around him and vomited all over his clothes. But I still want it again.
Now I understand how Keith got into trouble. Fucking Tim is like escaping all worries and troubles and being totally wrapped up in him and his passion. Although, I can’t imagine why Keith fell for him. Nice as Tim was to me when he helped me get away from that party, I’m not even remotely confused about the kind of guy he is…and that there’s no chance of any sort of relationship forming. I can’t understand how other guys don’t get that about him.
It’s clear he can’t do relationships. And equally important, that he’d be a shitty boyfriend.
I think they like the idea of tying him down. I just want a good fuck…desperately want it. So much that as I wait for him to pick up his clothes, it hurts thinking he could grab them and leave.
A knock at the door offers me hope.
I move to get it, but take my time. Don’t want him to think I’m too eager. But this pretense seems silly. I’ve never been good at hiding my feelings for a guy…even if it’s just to have sex with them.
“Hey, man,” I say after I open the door. I mimic the sort of casual introduction I used to get from Greg when we started seeing each other. It always came across as super-chill. Relaxed…even though I was anything but relaxed.
Tim stands outside, his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. His bangs wave across his forehead. And he’s trimmed his scruff. Sometimes I forget such a messy look can be as crafted as a tidier one.
His stone-cold expression leaves me wondering what he might be thinking. He sizes me up and I hope he notices the tight shirt I’ve put on to rouse his interest.
His gaze shifts to inside my apartment.
“Nice place,” he says. I’m sure he’s used to the other guys at school who have apartments that are paid for by their parents. I’ve been saving up money since I was sixteen, waiting tables so that I don’t have to rely on my parents for much.
“You don’t have to be an ass,” I say, stepping aside as he enters.
My place isn’t very big. The main area is divided by the kitchen island, which separates the kitchen and the living area. I don’t have much furniture. A couch, coffee table, and television set. Just the basics. Nothing’s decorated or fancy, but it’s all mine.
“I’m surprised your parents can’t afford something a little better for you,” he says, and I can hear the judgment in his tone.
“I pay for this myself. Everything I have, I pay for on my own.”
He scans my place before turning back to me. He looks surprised.
“Why the fuck wouldn’t they pay for you to live in a better place than this shithole?”
“They would, but I don’t need them to.”
“Obviously you have them paying for your tuition, so—”
“I’m here on scholarship, and I pay for my rent and utilities on my own.”
“You got beef with your parents?” he asks.
“I don’t need to be financially tied to them.”
“That’s impressive.”
I roll my eyes. “I don’t need your fucking approval either.”
Now I feel like an ass.
“Sorry,” I say. “I get a little defensive when people assume I’m like every other asshole at our school. Some of these pricks who take the easy way out and don’t have any financial worries—get everything they want and blow their parents’ money on drugs and booze.”
Tim glances at me, taking a moment to respond. Like he’s considering whether or not he should.
He’s not going to fuck me if I keep making things awkward.