Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Sunlight painted the path as we walked, leaves and dirt crunching under our sneakers. Jay, still lost in his own thoughts, seemed to unfurl a little with each step away from the dorm. His story about his dad touched me. It showed me a side of Jay I never really thought I’d see, and I wanted to show him a side of me that he hadn’t seen, either.
Finally, we emerged into a clearing—a hidden meadow tucked away amid the tangle of trees. Wildflowers bloomed in vibrant patches of purple and blue and yellow, buzzing with big bumblebees drunk off the pollen that stuck to their tiny little legs. In the center, a towering pepper tree spread its branches, creating a shady oasis with its skinny and numerous leaves.
This was my place—where the pressure of expectation faded, washed away by the scent of wildflowers and the gentle hum of bugs.
“It’s beautiful,” Jay breathed, settling onto a fallen log beside me.
“My secret spot,” I admitted. “Come here to get away, remind myself there’s more to life than all the shit I usually worry about.”
The quiet stretched between us, comfortable in a way that still surprised me. Jay, the guy with the perpetual smirk and barbed comebacks, seemed to shed those layers out here. This quiet, contemplative Jay was someone I was discovering piece by piece.
And I was loving each new piece I uncovered.
“About your dad,” I started, then faltered. I was the jock, not the heart-to-heart guy. But something about the quiet solitude of this place urged me on. “I get it, you know. Feeling stuck. Wanting to… prove yourself or measure up somehow.”
He turned and gave me a wry smile. “Didn’t take you for a philosopher, Ry.”
“Shut up.” I chuckled, nudging him with my shoulder. “But yeah, I get it. He believed in you, man. That’s worth more than anything. And know that you’re making him proud each and every damn day.”
Jay didn’t respond, but his gaze drifted away, lost in the rustling leaves of the pepper tree.
“I hope so,” Jay finally said. “I really do.”
“He is. Look at you. You’re already practically a lawmaker, pushing people to make changes, and you haven’t even graduated college yet. You’re a superhero, Jay. Seriously.”
As if on cue, a tiny chipmunk scurried out from the base of the trunk, its cheeks bulging. It darted around our feet, then stopped and stared up at us, tilting its head with curiosity.
Jay and I exchanged a look, and then both of us slowly, carefully reached into our pockets. I had some leftover granola bar, and he produced a handful of lint, which he put back into his pocket with a chuckle. We crumbled bits of the granola bar onto the ground, and the chipmunk, clearly accustomed to being bribed, scurried forward to investigate.
“He likes peanuts best.” I grinned as the chipmunk snatched up a nut with lightning speed.
“Who doesn’t?” Jay asked.
“Definitely not you with the way you were sucking on mine last night,” I said, nudging him with a shoulder as he blushed. “That was so fucking hot.”
“It really was. Let’s do it again tonight.”
“Let’s,” I said, already getting hard at the thought.
The ridiculousness of the moment struck us both, just two horny guys talking about boning each other while the cutest chipmunk in the world munched away on some nuts. Soon, we were hunched over, laughing and scattering crumbs for our new furry friend. The tension and emotion of the afternoon faded away.
After a while, the chipmunk scampered back into the undergrowth, its mission accomplished. “Maybe you’re right,” Jay murmured, almost to himself, “About my dad. Thanks for this, Ryan. Seriously.”
As the afternoon light began to wane, casting long shadows across the meadow, the knowledge settled over me: whatever happened with us, whatever Jay decided about his future, this moment right here—the laughter, the quiet vulnerability, and the shared joy of feeding a wild chipmunk—it mattered. It all happened for a reason.
A sense of anticipation thrummed beneath the surface of our easy quiet. The sun began its slow descent in the sky. I watched as Jay turned his face toward the fading light, his expression open and unguarded. He seemed so different here—softer, more accessible. Impulsively, I reached out, my fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead.
Jay startled slightly, turning his surprised gaze toward me. The air crackled with unspoken questions. A part of me, the rational, cautious part, screamed to pull back, to protect myself from whatever lay behind that look. But another, deeper part of me, a part that was increasingly difficult to ignore, urged me to lean in.
I closed the distance between us.
Time seemed to slow as my lips brushed against his. It was tentative, a whisper of possibility, yet it resonated through me like a thunderclap. It wasn’t like the primal kisses from earlier.