Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84670 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84670 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
“How about you start from the beginning? You’re not making sense, and we can’t help until you do.”
Byron was right.
So, I rewound all the way to the night of the symphony performance and told them about how I’d nearly fucking kissed him. I moved on to last night’s revelation of why shit had gone sideways when we’d been kids and how Liam’s parents had royally fucked him over.
“And then…I kissed him.”
Those words hung in the silent room like an overripe storm cloud waiting to dump its icy rain on my head.
Byron opened his mouth, but Wilkins cleared his throat on the other side of the room.
“Forgive me, sirs, but brunch is now served.”
I jumped to my feet. “Shit. Sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude on your meal.” Even as I gave my apologies, my stomach growled because it was more faithful to Carol’s cooking than I was.
Sebastian chuckled and tossed an arm around my shoulder. “As if we wouldn’t include you.”
“A place setting has been prepared for you, Mr. Ashbridge,” Wilkin confirmed.
Byron sighed as he pushed to his feet and led the way out of the room. “We opted for brunch today because somebody didn’t want to get out of bed this morning.”
“Yeah, but your chef also makes a great brunch,” I added.
The conversation was put on pause as we settled at the dining room table and filled our plates with sausage, waffles, quiche, fresh fruit, and other delicate concoctions that were going to make me ten pounds heavier, but I didn’t care. Carol was an amazing cook. The one person who might beat her was Declan’s Chef, Donovan.
“So,” Byron prodded as he speared a strawberry. “You kissed Liam. I’m assuming you’re not talking a peck on the cheek.”
“No. It was a kiss. Not all-out crazy, but it was a romantic kiss. I spent the night—not sex. We had a sleepover like we were kids. Video games and junk food. Dragged his mattress to the living room and slept on it together in front of the TV.”
Sebastian shrugged. “Okay, everything is pretty innocent. You’re in the clear.”
I winced and debated whether to ask Wilkins to mimosa up my orange juice. “We might have…jerked…off…together this morning.”
“Oh, good grief,” Byron muttered.
“It’s not my fault. I woke up horny. And he was horny. And we were both hard. It was natural!”
“Your idea of natural frightens me,” Byron murmured.
“It could have been a lot worse,” Sebastian chimed in, but it didn’t feel like he was helping. He tilted his head toward Byron and smirked. “It could have been our first date.”
“Shut up,” Byron grumbled prior to stuffing a pile of fluffy scrambled eggs into his mouth.
I didn’t want to know.
“Anyway…” I drawled, dragging us to the main topic. “When I left, everything seemed okay, but it also felt like the calm before the storm. Liam is dealing with being raised by an extremely homophobic, overbearing mother who completely stifled his entire life—and I just want to smash her forehead with a hammer—while facing the fact that he might be bisexual or demisexual. Fuck, what if he’s been in denial all this time and he’s really gay? And he went through that marriage to Fiona—the woman, not the hippo. He’s totally the type to overthink things and panic.”
“He’s the type!” Sebastian exclaimed, jerking my brain from his black vortex of chaos.
“What?”
“I can see why you two were such good friends as kids. You’re in danger of overthinking and panicking right now.”
I opened my mouth to argue with Sebastian, but the words lodged in my throat. He was right. I was hovering right on the cusp of pure panic. After sucking in a couple of slow, calming breaths, I forced myself to focus on the most important thing. “What if he panics and ghosts me? Refuses to talk to me after what happened?”
Sebastian picked up his coffee and took a sip. “Do you have any more dates left in your agreement?”
It took a second to get my scrambled brain to do an organized search of our dates. “One! We still have one left. But he’s got to know that I’m happy to make the donation, regardless of whether we ever go out on that date. I was always planning to make the donation to the museum.”
Byron hummed. “Yes, but it’s still an excuse to talk to you. Even if he wants to run, he has to talk to you at least one more time if he wants to keep his job. It’s kind of horrible to trap him like that, but if you’re trying to help him…”
There. That was what I wanted. Okay, I wanted more than that, but my big concern was making sure Liam was okay. “What can I do for him? How can I help?”
“What you’re doing right now. Give him space to think about things,” Byron murmured. “When he wants to talk or needs more information, be there for him. Be supportive and patient.”