Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 112850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
“How can you continue using that old, stale argument? I’m closer to coming out than I’ve ever been in my life. Let the studio fire me. I don’t give a shit anymore. I see a far better future.” Of course, I didn’t believe that either. In the hours I worked at the bar, I spent loads of that time researching Slade. He was considered a phenom at his craft. Moody as hell, which tracked with my dealings with him. His extreme talent made the world fall in love with him.
“I’m not ready to come out. Nothin’s changed for me. Maybe after we’re up and runnin’, and enough time has passed and we don’t fade out…”
Slade dropped my hand, rising to his feet, clearly frustrated with me.
“I’m going back to your house and finish hanging the drywall. Can you get him back?” he asked, not waiting for my answer before he walked away.
“Don’t be mad. I’m bein’ honest,” I said, slower at getting to my feet. Slade didn’t respond until he was behind the wheel of the truck, the door shut, locking him inside.
Augh. The tension was filling my shoulders as I let go of a low whistle for Whiskey. The meandering horse took notice, lifting his head toward me. He trotted my way.
When I gathered the animal, I glanced at Slade, who was staring at me.
“I’ll meet you back at my place,” I said. Slade stayed silent, starting the engine with a roar. He reversed until he was in the direction of both our homes, then he took off without saying a word. I watched him go, lost in the guilt of hurting Slade’s feelings.
When I no longer saw the truck, Whiskey nudged my arm, drawing me into his world. I lifted my hand to his neck, rubbing him.
I needed to go back and make amends. Hmm.
=♥=
Slade
Only the sound of the screw gun hitting the drywall penetrated the haze of worry and frustration I’d blown up inside my head. I absently lowered the gun and shot the screw in the sheet and stud, securing it in place.
Yes, I understood that only I knew the crazy insanity that followed around the actors and their families in my industry. Mace had no real idea what I dealt with to keep myself, this home, and him safe.
But I couldn’t use that simple logic to release my aggravation.
I didn’t want to leave. I had manipulated and begged every way possible to encourage him to come with me. I got that it didn’t make sense, and probably wasn’t feasible, but damn, I wanted him there with me.
My greatest desire was met with an equally intense opposite resolve. I got it. Even understood. Mace was always surrounded by open land everywhere he went. If he did come with me, he’d be stuck inside my home, me working a dozen or so hours, six days a week. I’d eventually lose him, I knew I would… Dammit, I was worried about our future.
“Do you know I’m in here with you?” Mace’s voice was cautious and spoke with concern.
Of course, I didn’t know, but I also didn’t try to hide any of these emotions coursing through me. I gave two more shots with the screw gun and then hung my head. I was shit to do more than apologize. All my feelings mattered, but not as much as the man standing in the entryway of the bedroom. “I’m sorry I left you like that.”
“I’m not,” Mace said with force. His boots clicked on the concrete of the floor as he came closer. “I’m sorry I made you worry. I’ll do better. I was goin’ through my own emotions while ridin’ Whiskey. It’s been years since I was horseback alone like that. You know. I got lost to it all.”
“Yeah,” I said then closed my mouth. I’d considered all that before I went in search of him, but he had to learn to have those moments with a security presence.
My heart gave a little squeeze, aching. If I was any sort of good boyfriend, I’d be exploring his mental health after such a day.
Hmm. Another thing to feel guilty about once I got my wits back.
I went for another wallboard, pulling one off the pile. Mace met me there, grabbing the other side. “Whiskey’s gonna be the perfect addition to help me corral our animals. He’s strong and easily follows my commands.”
We took the board, and he lifted it to the wall, easily holding it steady. I quickly used the gun, locking it in place. While I worked, I begged this brain of mine to end the drama I’d started that day.
“Stop bein’ pissy,” Mace said calmly. “I’ll do better, I promise. After I got past the guilt, it felt right to be in the saddle. I missed it.”
I nodded again, taking another board from the pile. We were close to finishing. Mace jumped in to help again, holding the board while I screwed it. “I’m not pissy. I don’t want to leave. I can manage our lives better from here.”