Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 37055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
Tyson doesn’t laugh at my joke. “If I can’t find another job in Boston, I have to move, and then you and I won’t work out, and then—”
“Whoa, why wouldn’t we work out? Providence is not that far away.”
“I can see it now. I won’t have money to come to Boston on weekends, and you’ll be busy studying, and then—”
“I could catch the train and study on the way, or—”
“The logistics of it all is already hurting my brain. Just hold me.”
I let it go for now. He can take this time to wallow and get over it. “We should do this horizontally.”
“That’s what he said.”
I smile. “Yay, you’re not completely broken! Come on. Let’s go up to your bed so I can at least give you the best damn cuddles of your life.” I lower my voice. “I’m gonna hug you so hard. I’ll make it last all night long.”
“Damn it, now I really do feel like sex.”
It might be a temporary distraction, but I pull him off the couch and take him to bed, kissing every inch of his skin and then burying myself inside him. It’s relief, after all the time we’ve spent apart, and I know he needs this as much as I do. He’s not ready to face plan B yet, and that’s okay. Just as long as he doesn’t give up. There’s something out there for him, I know it. And if he thinks he can walk away from whatever we have, it’s not going to happen without a fight.
* * *
Nothing beats the feeling of waking up wrapped around Tyson’s body. I’m hoping his mood has lifted a little this morning, but when he stirs and rolls away from me, I know it hasn’t. He was counting on this job, and it’s terrible that he didn’t get it. It makes me want to go behind his back and pull some strings. I won’t, because I respect him too much, but I want to.
“Come on. You need to come in on your last day. You have to.”
He whines and buries his head under a pillow. “I know, but I don’t want to.”
“Yes, you doooo.”
“Can’t I hide in shame?”
“Nope.”
“Fine.” He throws the blanket off him and stalks over to his closet. “If it’s my last day, I’m at least going to look fucking hot.” He pulls out a freshly dry-cleaned suit.
“That’ll show my very straight dad and godfathers,” I say dryly.
He waves me off. “I’m not doing it for them. I’m doing it for me. Looking amazing will give me the fake confidence I need to get through the day.”
“Oh, well, if you want to look amazing, you should probably go as you are. Your ass is phenomenal without any clothes.”
“Not the kind of confidence I was going for, but thank you for saying that.”
I get up and dress into my clothes from yesterday. “Good ol’ walk of shame to work. I’m never going to hear the end of this.”
“Just tell them we went out drinking to drown my sorrows and you picked up.”
“Now the internship is over, can’t we tell them we’re together?”
Tyson turns to me, slowly, and I get the impression I’m not going to like what he’s about to say. “Is there a point? If I do have to move back to Providence—”
“Then we’ll still be together. It’s Providence. It’s not Iowa.”
“Iowa’s a hard limit for you, huh?”
“Have you been to Iowa?”
Tyson finally manages a small smile. “I don’t think there’s a reason to tell them when now we don’t know what’s going to happen. I might have to go to New York for a job. Ugh, that would suck. Available rentals there are even worse than Boston. I’d probably have to share a studio with six roommates.”
I back off again, but I’m not letting this go.
He’s hurt, he wants to run, and maybe he looks at me and can only see his bosses who let him go. But I have to have faith that something will come up. Another job or a temporary relocation back to his parents’ house. I’m not ready to give up yet.
The walk into work is silent, but I hold his hand the whole way. I swear only half the reason is because I’m scared he’ll chicken out.
But I should know Tyson better than that by now. Instead of shying away, he storms inside with his head held high. He slumps again as soon as we’re alone on the elevator and the doors are closed.
Today is going to be exhausting for him if he has to keep pretending he’s okay.
He’s not okay. He’s crushed.
When the doors open again, he straightens and forces confidence. Until he sees Dad, Mitch, and Lawrence waiting for us. Then his determined expression falls right off his face.
“Come with us,” Dad says and smiles.