Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
“Oh, fuck, he’s doing it again,” Nathan said from across the bar, and I shoved my phone back in my pocket.
“What?”
“That thing where you’re clearly sexting with someone on a dating app,” he said, amused. “I can tell by the look on your face. Whatever dick pic you just got clearly was a nice, girthy one.”
How embarrassing was it that it was just a guy calling me cutie, instead?
“Fuck off,” I said, but I knew I probably still had at least a little blush on my face as I reached for the bleach rag to wipe off the bar, even though it was plenty clean already.
“It’s okay. It’s why we love you, Rush,” Nathan said, finishing up his buffalo chicken wrap. “Never change.”
I let out a breath. Sorry. I already think I am changing. So fast it’s actually kind of scary, like a roller coaster drop.
What in the hell was Shawn doing to me?
My phone buzzed again soon after, and my eyes flitted to it like a magnet.
>>Shawn: By the way, you’re going to want to book a hotel for next Monday night. All of the floors of your house are coming up.
>>Rush: Only going to a hotel if I can fuck you in it. Sorry, is that too explicit? If I’m dating you, do I have to persuade you with dinner and a movie and flowers?
>>Shawn: Only if you’re going to fuck me after.
I bit back a smile again, somehow liking him even more.
17
SHAWN
I leaned back in the hot tub, resting my back up against at least three bubbling jets. I reached for the citron cocktail that Rush had ordered for us, taking a sip as he slid over toward me.
“This beats any Four Seasons I’ve ever stayed in,” Rush said, looking out at our current view. Ahead of us was a wrap-around deck that had views of the mountain range on the side, giving way to the twinkling city lights of Denver down below. Rush had booked a room at a fancy off-season ski resort in the Rockies for a night while his house was cleared out to make way for the flooring.
I felt like I was stepping into a world I knew nothing about. Rush was used to lavish things, but I sure wasn’t.
“I’ve never stayed in anything more than motels and Best Westerns,” I said.
“Nothing wrong with a well-kept Best Western,” Rush said, taking a sip of his drink. He hopped out for a second, reaching over to the panel of controls on the tub, and suddenly the jets bubbled even stronger, almost feeling like they were kneading onto my back.
“Fuck, that is what I needed,” I said, sinking a little lower to feel the jets all over. “I need this after every demolition week.”
“You were a rock star this week, you know,” Rush said as he got back in the tub near me.
I glanced over at him. “Speak for yourself. I’m supposed to be teaching you how to date, and you’ve been an overachiever.”
He leaned in toward my ear, giving me a few kisses right near my earlobe. “Not going to apologize for that.”
I still felt like at any moment, this could all blow up in my face. I’d always been the dude who had a crush, not the one who was on the receiving end. I was the one who wanted guys. Who had to chase. Plenty of guys had thought I was hot, or had been down to hook up with me, but when it came to courtship and real dating, it was as if no one had ever wanted to put in even the smallest effort.
And Rush had come out of the dating gate like a fucking galloping racehorse, seemingly on a one-man mission to put an end to my string of bad luck. I was still trying to catch up.
It had been a week since he’d made his confession to me, and every time my doubt started to creep in, he proved to me that he gave a shit. I’d told him he had nothing to prove, and yet he was approaching dating in typical Rush style: whole hog, zero to sixty, spoiling me senseless and already ruining me for other men.
One night, he came over and returned the favor I’d given him, blowing me for at least half an hour until I came so hard in his mouth I felt like I blacked out for a minute.
Then a couple of nights later, I opened my front door to find a dozen red roses, a box of premium chocolates, and a case of craft beers waiting on my doorstep. It came with a note saying that the beer was from one of his favorite breweries back in San Francisco.
Tonight was taking the cake, though. He’d invited me to the swanky hotel, and even though I’d felt monstrously out of place walking into the marble lobby in my jeans and white T-shirt, the rest of the night had been a dream.