Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
My thoughts wouldn’t slow down enough for me to sleep: Mom and Dad, the way he was never there for her, and how much easier life would have been if he was. Harrison and all the stories he’d told me about Ross and his past—Tracy, his parents, Warren being there for him, and how much Harrison was there for Ross and others. It was all a cyclone in my skull, spinning out of control, picking up new things to worry about with each rotation.
I hadn’t even video called with Mom and Molly earlier, opting instead to send them a text when I’d been in the bathroom.
I didn’t understand how it was so easy for Harrison to put himself out there, why I couldn’t give pieces of myself the way he could. But then, I did with him. I gave him more than I did anyone else, which was scary as fuck. Letting people in made you vulnerable, and vulnerability made it easier to get hurt.
And through it all, Harrison was there for me. He would give me a car if I’d let him, and all I was to him was a guy he liked to jog with and fuck. Maybe it would be easier for me if things were more balanced. Harrison was older and had more money than me. He helped me out all the time, from buying meals to hauling the bookcase to picking me up tonight, and what did I give him? It was hard, having nothing to offer and feeling like you were taking and taking from someone else.
It was after dawn when he rolled away from me and I was able to sneak out of bed. I wanted to be able to give him more than just my ass or my cock.
So I made coffee, then breakfast. Why I thought using his food was something nice, I didn’t know.
When I carried a plate into his room, he was just starting to sit up.
“What’s that?” he asked, leaning against the headboard.
“I made you breakfast.”
“Where’s yours?”
I shrugged. “I cooked for you.” Because you’re my friend, and you do nice things for me, and I don’t know how to thank you, so hey, I’ll cook two meals in a row for you.
Harrison patted the bed beside him. “You can share with me.”
“That defeats the purpose of it being something nice for you.”
“Being able to do things for you also feels like nice things for me.”
Ugh. That was the sweetest. The thing was, I knew it was authentic. He wasn’t just blowing smoke up my ass. Harrison was being real.
I walked over and handed it to him. “Let me go get your coffee first.”
“Damn, I must have done something right last night.”
He’d done a lot of things right.
I turned, went to the kitchen, and grabbed his drink before joining him in the bed. Harrison hadn’t taken a bite yet, his scrambled eggs, sausage, and potatoes just the way I’d left them.
He scooped some into his mouth, then handed me the fork. “You look tired. Did you have trouble sleeping?”
“A bit. I don’t usually spend the night.”
“I could have taken you home.”
“I know, but Ross’s place was going to be full of people, and I wasn’t in the mood for that.”
“Your place.”
“What?”
“You always call it Ross’s. It’s your home too, Zander. You pay rent there.”
I shrugged because it really wasn’t important.
“Zander…”
“Harrison…” Then, surprising myself, I blurted out, “I decided I want to borrow a car,” then stuffed a forkful of hash browns into my mouth. I’d been looking for a way to say it, and now I’d word-vomited it at him to keep him from talking to me about the condo, before pigging out in front of him. Nice. “I mean, if mine isn’t fixable or costs more than it’s worth,” I added when he just sat there staring at me without replying. What the fuck was wrong with me? I’d decided to open up to him, to prove I trusted him by letting him lend me a car? Now that I’d spoken the words, it felt like the most ridiculous thing in the world. Like I was selfish, using this man the way my father used people. “Why are you looking at me like that? It’s okay if you changed your mind.”
“I didn’t change my mind. I’m just shocked. You’re much more agreeable after fucking in my bed.”
“Sometimes you’re like a forty-one-year-old teenager.”
He shrugged. “It makes me endearing.”
He was right.
“We can go get it today.”
“Slow your roll, do-gooder. We need to hear from the shop first. And I’m paying you. I’m going to do what you said and figure out my finances. We’ll have a contract or something and—”
“Blah, blah, blah.” He plucked the fork from my hand, filled it with eggs, and pressed it against my lips until I opened them and took the bite.