Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Okay, now that I can get on board with. Parental torture is my forte. “In that case, I’ll have the same.”
Peyton leans back in his seat. “Food-wise, we’ll have one of everything on the menu.”
The waiter glances between us. “This isn’t another college prank, is it? You’re not going to order all this stuff and then ditch?”
They must get that a lot here.
“Not at all. My father left his credit card at the front desk if you want to check.”
“Not a problem, sir. The menu is quite extensive. Would you like the—”
“Just bring out everything as it’s made. Don’t worry about what order it’s in.”
“Very well. Enjoy your meals.”
“Will your dads be mad?” I ask when the server leaves.
“Nah. All I’ll have to do is go home and say, ‘I’m totally bisexual now!’ All will be forgiven.”
My throat is dry, and I reach for my water to take a sip. On the way to putting the glass to my mouth, I quickly ask, “Are you?”
“Bisexual?” Peyton asks.
I nod as I swallow the cold water, but my mouth is still too dry.
“In theory.”
“In … theory …”
Peyton smiles, and I notice it’s the one thing he has that he doesn’t get from his dad. When Talon smiles, it’s playful and goofy. When Peyton smiles, it’s with a confident eye glimmer that convinces me he knows all the answers and has his shit together.
Peyton goes to say something when our waiter comes back over with drinks. Does this guy have a coming out radar? Ope, someone’s about to admit they like dick! Better put a stop to it.
He takes forever to pop the cork and pour us a glass each, and I’m this close to telling him to go away. I need Peyton to elaborate.
He doesn’t.
Instead, he takes a sip of his champagne and screws up his face. “I was going to allow myself one glass of this, but honestly, it tastes gross.”
“So uncultured,” I joke. I sip mine and almost hate that I love the taste. Expensive wine. Expensive food. The tastes of growing up wealthy, while delicious, always makes the sense of entitlement churn in my gut.
“Very uncultured,” he agrees, and I know that shouldn’t shoot jealousy through me, but it does.
The Talon-Millers do wealthy the right way. I don’t even know if that makes sense, but after spending very little time with them, I already know they’re down-to-earth. They have personalities bigger than Mars, but it has nothing to do with the millions they’re worth.
Their image isn’t their money.
They’re everything my family hates and everything I want to have.
“But anyway, you were saying?” Let’s get back to the important part.
“What was I saying?”
Gah. He’s killing me here.
“Something about you being bi. In theory.” I take another sip.
“Ah yes. Well, you know, there’s only ever been this one guy. One hookup.”
The Dom Pérignon gets caught in my throat, and as I cough, it comes out of my nose.
Peyton laughs while passing me a cloth napkin. “So uncultured.”
I wipe my face. “Sorry. I wasn’t expecting that. After our hookup, I told myself it was nothing, went to college and tried to date girls, but it took until the end of freshman year for me to admit I was gay.”
Peyton turns the stem of the flute in his hand, twirling the champagne he’s clearly not going to drink. “I told myself it was nothing too. Like you said that night, it was a bit of fun but not for you.”
“I’m pretty sure I didn’t say that. You said that, and I didn’t disagree with you. I was too busy freaking out about finding that missing piece of myself that I still wasn’t ready to admit that I’d found.”
He huffs and leans forward. “And here I was thinking I was so bad at gay sex that I never wanted to try again for fear of embarrassment.”
“I scared you off that much, huh?”
“Being dismissed after having sex with someone kinda does that to a guy.”
Hello, guilt. “Fuck. I’m sorry—”
Peyton holds up his hand. “It’s all good. Though it’s nice to know it was because you were freaking out, not because of anything I did or didn’t do. And I’m sure if I met a guy who gave me butterflies the way you did that night, I would’ve gotten over my inexperience and gone for it. But it never happened again. Not yet anyway.”
“Ah. That’s why you’re bi in theory.”
His blue eyes meet mine. “It’s not really in theory, though. I know I am. It’s just … sometimes downplaying it makes it easier to say out loud. I haven’t told anyone, though I think my dads knew I was lying when I said our hookup didn’t mean anything.”
“Yeah, with the way they set us up, it’s obvious they think we both want it to happen again.” I’m on board with that, but I don’t think Peyton is.