Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Miguel’s insides filled with acid so potent a drop of it could kill, and while he had no idea what to do, his body rose on autopilot, because he needed to stop whatever was about to happen.
“Hey, no one wants to see that,” the big guy, Quinto called out, but Sofia distracted him by cuddling closer.
Miguel hoped for more pushback, wanted to have Nero and the other man scolded for doing something that shouldn’t be done in public, or ever, but the crowd seemed too distracted, or perhaps too drunk to care about the meaningful smiles shared by two men in the middle of their camp.
Nero had so often said the men he slept with were after things he could provide them, but it was painfully obvious that he possessed all the charm needed to attract people even without his status, while Miguel remained the unwanted mutt watching happy couples from under the bed.
The stranger pulled on Nero’s arm, twisting it to see a tattoo on its other side, but with the way Nero relaxed, staring back at him with a smile, the gesture seemed more like foreplay.
Dante snorted. “You sure you’re not jealous?”
Miguel scowled at him and threw the metal bowl he’d emptied to the ground. “That’s not—never mind.”
With his skull full of chaotic thoughts, he walked Nero’s way with the determination of a bear awoken from its winter sleep. He was starving, angry, and ready to rip Ossie’s head off if he didn’t take his dirty hand off Nero’s stomach.
He arrived at Nero’s side all too fast, frustrated by the way the light from the bonfire twinkled in Nero’s nipple piercings, enticing him to touch. How would he even go about touching a man for the first time in his thirties? Let alone one so experienced?
Ossie raised his eyebrows at Miguel as if he was the intruder, but Nero’s gaze was neutral, asking Miguel what he wanted.
And what did he want? It was a question he should have asked himself before he’d barged in to cockblock Nero.
“We need to talk,” he spat out despite his throat feeling dry as if it had been dusted with woodchips.
After hours of silent treatment, he’d half expected Nero to embarrass him with a lewd comment or otherwise make Miguel squirm in the company of this other guy who so clearly wanted to touch Nero and get to know him better somewhere out of sight. But Nero nodded and headed toward the twisted rails of the rollercoaster, which were somehow still visible in the moonlight.
Miguel barely contained his fury when Ossie grabbed Nero’s wrist and asked, “should I wait for you?”
Nero’s full lips pressed together. His gaze passed over Miguel’s face, as if he were searching for something, but what could it be if it was so obvious Miguel could not provide whatever he was seeking?
Still, he pulled his hand away from Ossie’s grip and shrugged. “No. It’s been a long day.”
Miguel wanted to slap that intrusive hand for good measure, but even he knew Ossie hadn’t done anything wrong. So he kept his chaotic anger in check and tailed Nero away from the bonfire, hypnotized by the tangle of sharp caiman teeth catching reptile tails on his back. Miguel had been the one to pull Nero out of a potential hook-up, yet now couldn’t find a single word to say. What if they… didn’t talk? What if Miguel caught up with Nero and licked him from nape to shoulder instead? Would Nero push him away or let it happen?
They circled a building that advertised itself as a haunted house with a spooky clown as its most prominent monster, and thank fuck, Nero didn’t walk inside. Because then Miguel would have to follow him, and seeing those white smiling faces in the dark would be too much to handle after this day from hell.
As they walked farther from the merry circle of former gang members and deeper into the decrepit park, the silvery moonlight became their guide. But despite so often being called romantic, in a place so consumed by rot it only upped the creepy factor. Pieces of equipment and junk were piled at the sides of alleyways, and the formerly colorful rides and booths now repelled rare visitors with peeling paint and rust.
In complete silence, Nero led the way through a wooden gate, which miraculously remained intact, and entered an area that was Wild West themed, with frontier-style buildings on either side and a large carousel at the end of the elongated square.
Miguel caught up with him so their shoulders just about brushed. “The creators of this place couldn’t decide on the theme. What’s clowns got to do with this?”
Nero exhaled, walking past two life-size figures depicting gunmen, which had lost their faces to blunt force. “Must be one of those places that tried to have various areas with different themes.”