Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 99736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
“It attacked me,” Anders says. “The end.”
“Aww, man, totally cut me off and make it anticlimactic, why don’t you,” Law says. “But yeah. He’s been scared of cats ever since.” He starts laughing again. “But fuck, it was funny. Like, picture a little Anders—”
I don’t know why, but I’m picturing an eight-year-old with a full beard.
Law wheezes and he continues. “This little kitten would not stop chasing him all over the yard—”
“It was not little!” Anders yells. “It was the size of a dog.”
“A Chihuahua maybe,” Law mutters.
“It had huge teeth, and need I remind you domestic cats are related to like lions and shit? They’re fierce.”
“Mmmhmm.”
Law and Anders’ brotherly bickering is the most normal I’ve seen him act in my presence. I’ve seen it from a distance before, like the other night in the club before he realised I was there. Never up this close.
I pick up Lucky and cuddle her. She hates it but doesn’t fight me. “Think you can live with the big bad kitty?”
“I’ll be fine. That thing’s not a cat.”
As if understanding, Lucky lets out a little kitty growl, though I think it’s because I’m holding her, not at Anders.
It rattles Anders all the same.
Being roommates is gonna be fun.
* * *
Being roommates is gonna be torture. Sweet, wank-inducing torture. Because one dinner down, I’m harder than an iron bar underneath the table. All Anders has done is relax and show this whole different side of him. I’ve seen him with Law before—their weird bond and brotherhood that seems stronger than any other sibling relationship—but I’ve never seen him fully relax.
It’s even hotter than the nervous twitching. Maybe. Hmm, nah, I love it when he’s all awkward too.
I’m so fucked.
“I think she likes you,” Law says, looking behind Anders’ chair where the cat hasn’t left his side.
Lucky meows in response.
“She has … particular tastes usually,” I say. “It took a week for her to stop hissing at me every time I fed her.”
“I dunno, that sounds like she has great taste,” Reed says.
I rub my temple with my middle finger, and Reed laughs.
“I need a smoke,” Anders says and stands.
He smokes?
“You’re back on that shit?” Law asks.
“Sorry, Mum,” Anders says sarcastically and heads out to the balcony. Unsurprisingly, Law follows.
I watch their identical asses as they go.
Reed clears his throat. “You better be checking out Law’s ass because the other one is even more off limits than my boyfriend.”
“I actually can’t tell whose I’m looking at,” I say, only half-joking.
“Brody—”
“Yeah, I know,” I say, feeling defeated. “You don’t have to say it. But why do they have to be so damn pretty?” Pretty’s probably not the right word for their rugged appearance, but … so pretty. Like Jason Momoa pretty.
Reed laughs. “Yeah, it’s kinda unfair.”
Fucking whatever. Reed is your typical blond, blue-eyed, and gorgeous type. He’s traditionally good-looking. Anders is something else.
Which is probably why I’ve been imagining running my hand over his bearded jaw and gripping that top knot on his head and pulling to the point of pain.
“I’m serious, Brody. Anders is a no-go.”
“Wow, you sound just like him.”
Reed’s blue eyes widen in realisation. “Wait, he’s the guy you said keeps rejecting you? And you asked him to move in? What is wrong with you?”
“Wrong with me? I’m helping the guy out.”
“And hoping to fuck him in the process.”
I mock gasp. “I object.”
Reed gives me his I call bullshit face. “Okay, Counsellor.”
“He’s adamant it’s not going to happen, and I do have some dignity.”
“Do you?”
“Fuck you.” I laugh.
Reed stares at the balcony doors even though all we can see of the brothers from here is the occasional red glow of Anders’ cigarette. Reed bites his lip, and it’s his tell. He’s never been good at keeping anything from me. I know him and his tics too well. “Just … be cautious around Anders.”
“Spill it already,” I say.
Reed’s eyes come back to mine and then out to the doors again, and now I’m really starting to get suspicious.
“Fuck, what is it? Is he a recovering addict or something?” I don’t know why my brain immediately goes there, but it would explain the twitchy behaviour. “I can’t have that shit in my home. If I get charged with a—”
“Calm down. Nothing like that. I wouldn’t put your career on the line if it was drugs. I mean, well, if we want to get technical, I don’t think that’s a cigarette he’s smoking out there, but—”
I wave him off. “Weed is practically legal. As long as he’s not growing the stuff, it’s not ice or heroin or heavy shit, it won’t matter.”
“I know you need to keep your record clean. Even if it’s ironic that lawyers are usually the biggest criminals of them all.”
“We just know how to play the law to our advantage.”
Reed coughs in between saying “Criminals.”