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)
“I think they’re closer than you think.”
I shrug because she’s wrong. I have no prospects but her, and we just talked about how we don’t see each other that way.
“Want to know a secret?” Ana pops a fry into her mouth. “It’s one I’ve never shared with anyone.”
“Clearly. And just so you know, I’m the world’s best secret keeper.” I grin.
“I don’t doubt it. But anyway, mine is…well, I’m in love with my best friend, who also happens to be my ex.”
I wince. “Ouch. That can’t be fun. What came first? The relationship or the friendship?”
“We weren’t friends our whole lives like you and Donovan. We met at this art festival. We’re both really into stuff like that, and we just…clicked.”
“That’s how it was with me and Donovan. The first time we met, we just clicked. Granted, we were eight.”
“Justin and I, we started hanging out as friends and got really close…then we started dating…I fell in love with him, and then we broke up. I miss him and want him back. I never told him how I feel—the love part, I mean.”
Why is she telling me this? Maybe so I don’t take it personally that she isn’t into me? She wants me to know she can’t because she’s into someone else. “I’m sorry. Wanna use me to make him jealous?” I pump my eyebrows. “We can fake a relationship.”
“Eh, thanks for the offer, but I don’t think it would work. I just…sometimes the person we’re looking for is closer than we think.”
“Right? I can see that. If I were queer, Donovan would be my perfect partner.”
“If only.” Ana smirks, before changing the subject. We hang out for a while longer, and when the check comes, she says, “We should split it.”
That would be good for my finances—I’ve been trying to save money because my rent is going up—but I would also feel like a total asshole doing that. I brought her out for dinner. I asked her on a date, even though we’ve decided we’re better as friends. “How about I get it this time and you get it next time?” I offer, which is also a perfect way to make sure she knows I really do still want to hang out with her.
“Awesome. That sounds great.”
CHAPTER TWO
Donovan
I take my fiber, PrEP, then do my morning stretches. It’s early, but I’m used to it because of my work hours.
Despite the fact that I’ve never been into sports and I can’t say I love exercising, it is something I try to do now—the exercising, not the sports. Now that I’m in remission and have been for years, I try to take care of my body that way. I hit a growth spurt right out of high school and finally have some meat on my bones now. I’m not Mister Muscles or anything, but I’m proud of the progress I’ve made.
When I was dating Malcolm—my one and only ex who also happened to land me in the Jilted Exes’ Club—he used to make snide comments about my morning stretches, telling me how they didn’t actually do anything and making me feel silly about them. I look back at it now and wonder how I ever let myself get wrapped up in him, how I missed the signs that he’s an asshole who treated me like shit and made me feel bad about myself.
I wish I’d listened to Eric about him, but in the beginning, he played the part more, made me feel special and wanted when no one other than Eric had ever made me feel that way.
I shove Malcolm out of my head, finish my stretches, then head for the shower. Once I’m in my scrubs, I grab one of the breakfasts Eric helped me prep and pop it in the microwave.
I’ve never been much of a cook—something my dad playfully teases me about. He’s always been the cook at home, even when he was busy. He learned from his mama, his favorites being traditionally Southern meals that use a lot of oil and are delicious as hell. He was born in Tennessee. His mama had the only Black-owned restaurant in their small town. My dad had left when he turned eighteen, wanting to be out West. It’s where he met my mom. We don’t speak to her family. They didn’t like her being with a Black man, and she told them to fuck off, but we do try and go see our family out in Tennessee whenever we’re able.
Eric cooks differently from my pops, but it’s good in its own way. I scarf down my breakfast, pack up my lunch, then head out the door. We’re the trauma hospital on call today, so it’s sure to be busy.
I’m in my car when my phone buzzes. I smile, knowing who it is.