Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
My pulse jumps—maybe I’m feeling slightly guilty. “I didn’t. I thought about it, though.” But it felt weird since I was just thinking about you and your stupid underwear band.
I take the bowl of pasta from him.
“You should have. Christ, I think you were right. I need to get laid. Ana was over today, and my brain was doing some weird stuff.”
The bowl almost slips out of my hand, and I set it on the table. “See? I knew you liked her. And you said the two of you were just friends.” I head over and grab the sauce.
Ana would be good for him. Eric deserves someone like her, and I really like her, so I know she’ll never be strange about how close Eric and I are. Malcolm hated him, and Eric hated Malcolm too. He was always jealous of Eric and accused me of being secretly in love with him, which couldn’t be further from the truth. He also accused me of cheating on him with Eric, which is rich, considering he was the one with numerous boyfriends.
“What? No. I wasn’t thinking about her. Just…other stuff. It’s hard to explain. I need to get off my feet.”
“Shit. Sorry.” I pull out one of the chairs at my small table, and Eric plops down. I take the crutches and lean them against the wall for him. “What do you want to drink?”
“Just a beer is fine.”
I grab one for each of us and set them on the table, before getting plates and cutlery. Then I join Eric, and we scoop food onto our plates and begin to eat. “God, this is good. You’re going to spoil me, and I won’t know how to handle it when you go back to work—not that you have to keep cooking for me every day. I don’t mean that.”
“I like cooking for you. I can try to when I’m working too. Your job is more important than mine, so I can do more around the house.”
I frown. “My job isn’t more important than yours.” Why would he say that?
“You’re an RN. You work in the emergency department, dealing with traumas and sick people. I mow lawns.” Eric shrugs as if that’s not important.
“You do more than mow lawns, and even if you didn’t, that’s important work that needs to be done as well. Do you really feel that way? You’re just as needed as I am.”
He shakes off my concern. “Sorry. I’ve just been feeling weird lately. I think it’s the injury and getting fired. I’m really not that down on myself.”
“You better not be down on my best friend. Seriously. I won’t put up with it. Not even from you.”
He smiles, and then I smile, and we just sit there smiling like idiots.
“You’re a dork,” he tells me.
“Takes one to know one…though we both know you’ve always been way cooler than me.”
“You better not be down on my best friend. Seriously. I won’t put up with that. Not even from you,” he counters, using my own words against me.
“Good point. Now let’s eat.”
We ramble about our day while we finish dinner. He tells me about Ana spending her lunch here, and how cool she is, and what a good time they have together.
The truth is, I’ve never heard Eric talk about someone this much. He’s never dated seriously, never went on and on about how he feels about someone, unless you consider silly crushes when we were kids. I think that’s partly why it was weird when I first started dating Malcolm. Eric and I would actually argue about him, and we never argue about anything.
He would also act weird and get annoyed when I spent time with Malcolm, which then made Malcolm think Eric had feelings for me. That always ended in Malcolm and me fighting too. I knew Eric didn’t have feelings for me, though. I saw it for what it was: Malcolm was my first relationship, so it was the first time Eric had to share me with anyone. It was probably just an adjustment for him. That makes sense to me because as much as I would love to see Eric with Ana, part of me feels uncomfortable when he talks about her. I don’t think jealous is the right word, but…off. When two people are as close as us, it has to be difficult when someone new comes around.
“That was good. Thank you.” I grab my plate, stand, and take his too. “I’ll do the dishes since you cooked.”
“I won’t argue,” he teases.
“Somehow, I didn’t think you would. Remember that time when we were kids and you hid all the dirty dishes instead of washing them? Like your mom wasn’t going to notice all her dishes disappearing.”
He laughs. “Yeah, didn’t think that one through. And then she made me wash them all, and not only were they harder to clean, but my room stank like old food for two weeks. You helped me clean up, though…and wash the dishes.”