Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
He was really a nice kid.
“No, Arizona,” I answered. “I don’t think I am.” I leaned back in my chair and dared him to even act like he was going to wipe the coffee up with the handful of paper towels clutched in his left hand. Arizona was cute. If he wasn’t Landon’s son, I would have fucked him six months ago when he’d first started helping out at the agency. Now, after Baker, I no longer felt the urge to even flirt with him, much less fuck him.
Sadly, I hadn’t had the urge…period. As soon as I’d gotten home, I’d visited my favorite club with the intentions of whipping and fucking all images of Baker from my head. I’d left after only fifteen minutes. The thought of being Dom to anyone other than Baker left a bad taste in my mouth.
Ari dropped the paper towels on my desk, shrugged, and said, “Suit yourself. Now your desk can look as sloppy as you do.” He waved his arm up and down in front of me and said, “You’re letting yourself go, Seth. That’s okay up until the point that you get so gross that no hot guys are going to look in this direction at all.” He leaned over my desk, narrowed his eyes at me, and said, “That’s when you start pissing in my pool. If they won’t look over here, they aren’t seeing me. That’s not working for me. Get over yourself. You got dumped. I’ve been dumped at least seven times, and, for your information, I’ve only dated seven guys. You don’t see me whining about it. When was the last fucking time you shaved, anyway?”
I frowned. “Seven guys? You’re only nineteen, Arizona. What the hell? Does your daddy know you’re a manwhore?”
He laughed. “Yes, he warns me all the time that I’m going to be just like Seth Wilkinson if I’m not careful.” He shivered like the thought disgusted him. “Okay, about my seven boyfriends. There was Calvin Patriot in the first grade. He had the sweetest smile and his mother packed the best lunches.” He grinned. “Yes, I might have used him for his awesome lunches, but I figured he may as well learn early on that life was filled with one disappointment after another. I was actually doing him a favor. After that, we had Trevor Monroe.” He fanned himself and said, “Good God, that Trevor had the curliest hair I’d ever seen in my life. Over and over again, I imagined getting my hands tangled in those golden locks. I never touched him, of course, but it was fun to think about it. After that there was….”
I held up my hand and he shut up immediately.
“Sorry, Seth. I just hate seeing you like this. It makes me sad and makes my dad grumpy. I was being silly…hoping to cheer you up.”
Now I felt even shittier. “Sorry, Ari. I’m just in a slump. It’ll pass.” It wouldn’t but there was no point in scaring Ari half to death.
“I hope so. This whole brooding thing isn’t your sexiest look.” He waved his hand up and down in front of me again.
“Thanks,” I mumbled. “You’re making me feel better already.”
“Oh, fuck you,” he countered. “Hey, what’s that stuff?” He maneuvered around my desk to look at something behind me.
I looked over my shoulder and cringed when I saw what had gotten his attention. It was the four boxes of shit belonging to me that the clean—up team had pulled out of the penthouse I’d shared with Baker for only a few days…but the happiest days of my life. “It’s nothing. I need to throw it away, but I haven’t had the energy.”
I turned back to my desk and, contrary to what I’d told Ari, grabbed the paper towels he’d dropped and began wiping up the coffee I’d spilt. I really had meant to throw the boxes away. I didn’t want any memories or mementos of what transpired in Miami. Maybe I’d get lucky and Ari would offer to toss everything for me.
“This is some cool stuff. The Company bought you these clothes? These are fucking nice. It’s a shame you’re humongous or I could steal some of this and call it my own. Give it a good home. Take care of it and show it some love.”
I loved Arizona. I’d known him since he was fifteen and listened to his father share tale after tale of his teenage trouble-making. It was that love right there that kept me from grabbing a roll of duct tape and wrapping it around his head three for four times, covering his mouth so he’d stop talking for just a few fucking minutes.
“Uh…Seth…have you looked at this stuff?”
“Nope.”
“Do you think you should?”
“Nope.”
“Have you ever been wrong before?”
“Nope.” That was a fat lie, I’d been oh so wrong about Baker.