Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
“Really? Shakespeare was bi?”
“That’s speculation and not necessarily relevant.” I resisted the urge to launch into an in-depth analysis I’d studied on the subject. “The collection itself is quite fascinating. It’s multi-layered and nuanced and—”
Ezra sprang from his seat and knocked me sideways, covering me like a blanket as he pressed sloppy kisses all over my face and neck. He didn’t stop until I pinched his butt. Hard.
“Thank you. I love it. I’m going to start reading it tonight.” He bit my chin, propping himself on his elbow.
“You’re welcome.” I splayed my hand on his abs and traced the script below his ribs. “How late did you sleep?”
“Till noon. I’ve been in serious sleep debt for weeks. I think I needed to catch up on my zees. And the copious rounds of tequila shots Blake insisted on buying probably helped too.”
“I bet. How was last night?”
“Drunken shenanigans with old friends are always fun, but…I missed you.”
The sincerity in his eyes caught me by surprise. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was safe if—”
“I know.” He waved dismissively, adding in a teasing tone, “But I could have used your help fending off my fan club at the bar.”
I snorted. “Everyone wanted a piece of you, huh?”
“Can you blame them?” he joked. “It got kinda dicey when Cole and Beth tried to set me up with one of her friends. She was a little handsy, which made things…weird.”
I furrowed my brow in righteous indignation. “She made unwanted advances?”
“Let’s just say she was very flirty. I ended up telling her I was seeing someone. No doubt she’ll tell Beth, and Cole will be on my case tonight, wondering why he didn’t know first. That’s gonna be fun.” He pointed at the open door and scratched his temple. “Is anyone home?”
“Tommy’s at work, and I’m assuming Cole is at Beth’s,” I replied dazedly.
“Good.” He sat up gingerly. “My head hurts and I’m hungry and—”
“You can go out with other people if you want,” I blurted, hopping to my feet. “I feel like that’s something I should say…even though I don’t want it. But we should communicate expectations and since we agreed not to have expectations of each other, it’s only logical that dating other people might be of interest to you.”
He frowned. “Did I mention that my head hurts? What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I’m just trying to…communicate.” I winced. “I’m failing. I’m sorry. Forget I said anything. Except…I meant what I said, but I didn’t mean for it to be awkward. And this is why I’m a scientist. I have a great appreciation for words, however…math is infinitely simpler.”
Ezra fixed me with an unreadable look and pulled my wrist until I flopped beside him. “I don’t know about that, but I’ve never been good at communicating either. My last girlfriend told me I was like a security vault—storing information and never letting anything out. Guilty. I don’t like talking about things that make me nervous or sad. But I’ve always checked out of relationships when we got to the feelings part. Why give someone that kind of leverage when you’re not sure how long they’ll stick around? Lisa thought I had trust issues. She was probably right.”
“Lisa—was she the girl with the red thong?”
Ezra snorted. “No, I don’t remember that girl’s name. Lisa was a college girlfriend. We were together my senior year…soon after my dad died. I haven’t been serious with anyone since. Like I said, I’m no good at it. My brothers called me an idiot for breaking up with her. She was a sweet girl…great smile, nice family. We got along well until she wanted to analyze my feelings. How did I feel about losing my dad? How did I feel when my mom started dating someone new three months later? How did it feel when my brothers moved to different states at the same time? I was like, ‘Fuck, Lisa. You know what? I feel bad. I got nothing else.’ She didn’t appreciate my answer, and I didn’t appreciate the mind probe. I spilled my guts to a therapist, and I didn’t want to do it again when I got home. Kicking ass on the field seemed like a better way to deal with pent-up angst, ya know?”
“I don’t know anything about kicking ass on the field, but I understand,” I replied carefully. “I don’t have much experience either. I had a girlfriend in high school and a platonic boyfriend in college. That’s it.”
“And Marlon.”
“No, I wouldn’t lump Marlon in with significant lovers. It was just…sex.” I was going for matter-of-fact, but I could feel my face heat.
Ezra grinned. “Fuck, you’re cute. You’re blushing.”
“I am not blushing.”
“Yeah, you are.” He tapped my nose, then kissed it. “What the fuck is a platonic boyfriend?”
“It’s a flirtatious relationship without tactile reciprocity.”