Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 49178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 246(@200wpm)___ 197(@250wpm)___ 164(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 246(@200wpm)___ 197(@250wpm)___ 164(@300wpm)
It was nice to have these moments, especially lately, when it felt like my mind was constantly running at a hundred miles a minute, ever since Sam arrived at the ranch.
Back when the news first broke that he’d be coming, I remember being worried that I’d get in a fight with him, or that it’d be unbearably awkward and it would ruin the vibes of the entire ranch. None of that happened, though. I should have been worried about the complete opposite—falling for him all over again.
I hadn’t prepared myself for that possibility. Didn’t even think it was possible, not after how intense a heartbreak I suffered the first time around. I typically was someone who learned from their mistakes.
Apparently not this time. At least not when Sam is my first thought in the morning and my last thought before bed. I couldn’t shake him. Couldn’t shake his kiss, his touch, his laugh, his jokes, his ass, his smile, his dick, his—
“Benny?”
“Ah!!” I launched my paint brush up into the air. As gravity is wont to do, it pulled the brush right back down, white paint streaking the side of my face.
I blinked and turned around.
Sam stood behind the fence, lit up by moonlight, mouth slightly open like he wasn’t sure if he should laugh or apologize.
“Sorry,” he said, eyes wide. “Didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”
I wiped my cheek with the back of my hand. “You didn’t sneak up. I was just… distracted.”
He climbed through the fence and walked over, squatting next to me in the grass. “You’ve got some right—” He reached out and brushed my cheekbone with his thumb, catching a streak of paint.
His fingers lingered.
My heart kicked against my ribs. He must have just showered. He smelled like clean soap and soft lavender, his hair still a little wet.
“You’re lucky that didn’t land in your eye,” he said, still touching me. His voice was soft. Lower than usual.
I gave a snort. “I’m lucky it didn’t land on my dick.”
He laughed. “Would’ve had to help you clean it off if it did.”
The air between us dropped. Thickened. Shifted from playful to primal in a single heartbeat.
I looked at him. Really looked at him. There were parts of him I still recognized from our youth and others that had shifted and morphed into the man he was today. He wore a slightly oversized black T-shirt and black shorts, his lean legs on full display. Legs he had no idea how to use when it came to dancing, but that was totally fine with me. I enjoyed our line dancing sessions. We had four under our belt already, and I could see the improvement happening.
“You don’t have much left, do you?” Sam asked as he broke whatever spell had been cast between us by looking away.
“Just this part of the fence.”
“Nice, nice.” Sam sat crossed-legged in the grass. A barn owl gave a couple of hoots that echoed out into the quiet night sky. Our knees touched, my body reacting by becoming as taut as a high wire. “You know, I can’t stop thinking about that day in the creek.”
I swallowed audibly. “Oh, really?” This peaceful painting session had taken quite an interesting turn.
Sam spread his hands out in the grass behind him and leaned back, looking up at the stars. “It was really fucking hot. But also… it felt right. That was the first time I’d ever done anything like that with another guy and, I dunno, I wasn’t nervous or anxious. I didn’t feel ashamed or bad about it. I just… I wanted more. Is that bad?”
Flames licked at the base of my spine. Not just at the fresh memory of what we’d done, but at the fact that Sam admitted to liking it so much. I’d been worried that maybe he’d done it once and “gotten it out of his system”—even though deep down I knew that wasn’t how any of this worked. “It isn’t bad at all.” I’ve been wanting more for years now. “Society’s bullshit hang-ups teach us what to feel bad about, but sometimes those lessons are built on pure lies and self-hating bigotry. If your heart, if your body, if your soul feels happy about it, then there’s no shame to be had. Even if others try their damnedest to project it onto you.”
Sam nodded at that, head still tilted up at the stars, but I noticed his eyes were closed. As if taking in my words was more important than taking in the vast expanse of the universe. “You’re so right. Why do I feel shame about being attracted to you in the first place? Is it not everyone’s goal in life to share their love with someone they can call their best friend? It’s like I have the winning lottery ticket and instead of claiming it, I ask if I can return it. How fucking insane is that?”