Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
I could still remember lifting him up and heaving him up through the open window, right as the year’s first snow was starting to fall. My heart ached thinking of it now, knowing that by the time this November came around, Tris would be off in Colorado. With new people. New friends. A new life, entirely.
I’d decided I needed to savor every minute I had with Tristan, and naturally, life had a way of making time pass like lightning. Against my wishes, I watched as every day with him started to slip right out of my fingers. I tried to freeze each moment. I’d even been using my damn phone to take more pictures of him, something I never usually did.
And tomorrow, we were headed to his past and future hometown.
“Well, that’ll do ya for today,” Bob said as he straightened out the stack of papers Tris had signed. “When you’re back from your trip we should be ready to list, and make it official.”
Tristan stood to shake Bob’s hand. “I can’t believe it’s that easy,” he said.
“It ain’t always that easy, I promise you,” Bob said. “We’ve still got a ways to go, negotiating with buyers and going through the sale process. But you’re on top of things, Mr. Wood. I think it’ll sell beautifully.”
The smile on Tristan’s face said so much. I could tell he was proud, in a way he never used to be able to. It meant the world to Tristan to hear someone say he was “on top of things” because for so long, Tristan had considered himself an irresponsible fuck-up.
Right now, he felt like he was finally doing things right. And it meant so much to me, too, to see that he’d come so far from the old days of doubting himself at every turn.
“Thank you for your help,” Tristan said. “I’ll see you when I’m back in town.”
Bob left shortly afterward. Tris and I both collapsed back onto his couch, taking a moment to settle.
“It’s been a long day,” he said, looking over at me. The golden late afternoon sunlight was coming through his living room window, and it made him look like he was glowing.
“It’s been a long few weeks,” I said.
“You’re damn right about that one.”
“I say we unwind tonight. A trip to the bar to celebrate the appraisal going so well?” I offered.
Tristan’s eyes widened a little. “Red’s Tavern sounds like heaven on Earth right now.”
“Oh,” I said, shifting on the couch. “I was going to suggest Nat’s. You sure you’re good to go to Red’s again?”
“Are you kidding? I loved it there,” he said. “Probably one of my favorite bars I’ve ever been to. I wish I’d gone sooner.”
I couldn’t tell if it was excitement or fear that was bubbling up inside me when Tris mentioned going to Red’s again. Every time I stepped foot in there from now on, all I was going to be able to think about was his kiss.
The kiss that we apparently didn’t talk about, even though we usually talked about everything. For fuck’s sake, shit had been weird ever since he’d told me he was moving.
“Red’s it is, then,” I said. “Just going to shower off before we go.”
“I need a rinse, too,” he told me. “Camping style?”
I glanced up, something flaring in my chest. When Tristan said “camping style,” he was referring to the way we’d showered off tons of times, together, using the little portable tank shower at the same time while we were camping. It had never been a big deal being naked next to each other. It was just a part of camping, a way to conserve water, and nothing I’d ever given too much attention.
But we’d never done it at each other’s houses before.
“Camping style? Here?” I asked. Maybe I was just overthinking it, like I’d been overthinking everything lately.
Tristan was already standing up and peeling off his T-shirt as he walked away, revealing the dips and curves of the muscles in his back, decorated with ink. “Come on. We installed the dual showerheads for a reason. I want to use them while I’m still here to enjoy them.”
I got up, following him down the hall. “We installed the dual showerheads for the resale value of your house,” I said. “You said the people on House Hunters always like them.”
“Well, I like them, too,” he said. “When we put them in, I fantasized about using them during hookups with hot chicks. Now I’ve had them for months, and I haven’t done that once.”
I cocked my head to one side. “Not even once? I guess you’ve been slacking on the hookups, lately,” I joked.
He caught my eyes as we walked into his bathroom, shrugging a shoulder. “I’ve had a bit of a dry spell. Maybe blame it on the fact that I’ve been so busy. C’mon, let’s rinse off.”