Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
CHAPTER FORTY
Holden
A man’s fist is not a replacement for the body of a beautiful red head with lips that could take him to his knees, but I worked with what I had after Greer left.
I was going to change and go to the gym, but since I was nearing the point of utter exhaustion, I fell onto my bed.
Thoughts of her crowded my mind, but it was the look on her face when she was about to drop to her knees to take my dick in her mouth that pushed me to palm my own cock.
I came, and after another shower, I thought I’d fall into a deep sleep. I gave up on that after five minutes. I got dressed, had a tall glass of water, and took off out of my apartment, headed to nowhere in particular.
Part of me is considering taking a stroll along a few streets on the Upper East Side, but that will land me right in stalker territory if I run into her.
If I do venture to her part of the city, I want it to be after she extends an invitation to me.
My stomach reminds me with a growl that I’m hungry. The mini-meal I shared with Greer wasn’t enough to fill me up.
I have no issue eating alone, but if I can convince a family member or friend to join me, that makes for good food with a side of great company.
I slow my pace while glancing at the contact list in my phone.
The choices are widespread from business contacts to people I’ve lost touch with.
I’m about to send a text to Rook to see what he’s up to when my phone’s screen lights up with an incoming call.
Laughing, I answer immediately. “Rook.”
“This shit is getting old, Holden.” He chuckles.
I immediately jump back in my mind to our conversation at the hospital last night before we went our separate ways. We hugged, said goodbye, and agreed to meet up later this week for a drink or dinner.
“What shit?” I ask because I’m lost.
“Look to your left.” He’s still laughing. “This is unreal.”
My gaze darts to the left, and I join in on the laughter as I end the call.
Standing just a few feet away from me, holding a pizza box, Rook shoves his phone in the back pocket of his jeans.
By the time he’s right in front of me on the sidewalk, my laughter has subsided, but I’m still sporting a wide grin on my face. He is, too.
“How the fuck does this keep happening?” He shakes his head. “What made you choose that shirt to wear today?”
I glance down at the black T-shirt I’m wearing. It bears the logo of the boarding school we attended when we were teenagers. I balked when my grandparents told me I was heading upstate to go to the Buchanan School. I wanted no part of it, but the experience was one of the best of my life.
Not only did I meet Rook and Declan, but I also learned a lot about myself during my time there.
We all became Buck Boys, as the students and alums are called. I’ve been an ardent supporter of the school since I graduated. I go back yearly to speak to the graduating class about business and life. I donate monthly to their various programs.
“The real question is what made you choose to wear it, Rook?” I point at his shirt, which so happens to be an exact match to mine.
The fact that we both have on faded jeans only adds to our twinning look.
“I need to go shopping for new clothes.” He gives me a side hug before shoving the pizza box at me. “That, my well-dressed friend, is a pepperoni pie from Franzini’s.”
I’m not surprised. Rook knows the eatery in Brooklyn makes my favorite slice. It doesn’t hurt that one of the paralegals who works for Rook’s law firm is the sister of the guy who owns Franzini’s. I know Rook gets a deal whenever he places an order, but he’s a stellar tipper, so it all balances out in the end.
I glance past him. “Where’s Kirbs?”
“Still with Chesca,” he says. “I get her tomorrow.”
“So I’ll see you again tomorrow?”
“Of course you will. Come over for dinner.” He gestures toward the double glass doors of my building and the doorman standing at the ready to open them. “Do we need to make a beer run, or do you have some?”
“I have a few bottles in the fridge.”
“It’s time to eat.” He takes off toward the door. “Did you find some chocolate cigars we can surprise Declan with?”
Since I’m the one who brought up the idea of getting Declan cigars at the hospital during the wee hours of this morning, I need to get on that. Rook thinks it’ll be hilarious to present Declan with a box of chocolate ones. I think our old friend would prefer a real cigar to celebrate the birth of his son, but I’ll defer to Rook on this.