Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
“When?” Jule demanded. “When precisely is it going to fucking pass because it’s been twelve years of this bullshit and nothing’s changed.”
“I know it feels that way. But all we can do is take it one day at a time.”
“The fuck does that mean, one day at a time? What’s the other option? You think I can skip Tuesday like you skip real shoes?”
Trey didn’t take the bait. “It means that if you feel like something’s too overwhelming, you need to stop thinking of it like it’s endless and break it down into small parts instead. A month, a week, hell, even an hour.”
He clenched his jaw, squeezed his hands into fists, dug his nails into his palms, and glared.
Undeterred, Trey continued explaining. “It’s a tool I learned in AA. When I first tried to quit, I kept slipping because I’d have a bad day or a good day or a whatever fucking day and I’d want a drink and then I’d think about never having a beer again and that was too much so I told myself, fuck it, I’ll have just one, but it was never only one.” He sipped his coffee. “Eventually, I learned to stop thinking of it like something I have to do forever. I promised myself I wouldn’t drink for the next hour and that was manageable. When that hour ended, I’d promise myself another hour. Eventually one hour turned into two and two turned into a day and…” He smiled. “Now I’m at almost six years and when I get there, I’m going to promise myself that I’ll make it to seven.” He squeezed Jule’s shoulder. “I know you miss him, Jule. Take it one day at a time. This too shall pass.”
Chapter 14 – Age 29
Jule was having a typical Friday night working on his couch when his door opened. That could only be one person. Heart immediately galloping, he set the laptop on the coffee table and stood. “Tor?”
“Yeah, it’s me.” Tor walked into the room and stopped a few feet away from him. “Hey,” he said softly, his gaze roaming from Jule’s face to his feet and back up again.
“Hey, yourself.” Jule flicked his eyes up and down, taking Tor in.
The sight of Tor always sent a charge through him. Nobody would describe Tor as well-dressed. His hairstyles were never stylish. He wasn’t particularly tall or particularly broad. In theory, Tor shouldn’t stand out. And yet he did. His blue eyes glowed with intensity and intelligence. His strong body was always primed, ready to defend, to fight, to fuck. And his face. Tor knew how to shield his emotions, he was an expert at it, but when he let them show, his gorgeous face reached inside you and filled you with everything he was feeling. Tor was the most complex, infuriating, intoxicating man Jule had ever seen and he burned for him.
“Why’re you all the way over there?” He moved toward Tor. “Come here.”
“Clocking your mood, trying to decide if I need to brace myself.”
Jule frowned. “Brace yourself?” He circled his arms around Tor’s neck as Tor wrapped his around Jule’s waist. “For what?” They moved together in unison, lips parting, mouths connecting, tongues sliding.
When the kiss eventually ended, Tor skimmed his knuckles down Jule’s face. “I was at the house today. Talked to Trav. He said you know about the call.” He looked at Jule carefully, assessing him. “I assumed you’d be pissed.”
Jule sighed. “I am.”
“You haven’t punched me yet so you can’t be that mad.”
He pulled Tor in closer. “Maybe I’m getting too old to fight all the time.”
When they were younger, Jule pushed and Tor pulled back. He yelled, demanding to know where Tor was living and what he was doing, and Tor refused to answer. He escalated with volume, with words, with fists, and Tor got calmer, dialing down the rage that filled him and transforming it into something else, something that burned just as hot but was infinitely more pleasurable. That had been their dance for years now. Push and pull, harshness and softness, fighting and fucking. And at the end, Jule always relented, always followed Tor’s lead like he had done with everything for as long as he could remember.
“Are you going to tell me why Trav has your number and I don’t? Why he can call you and I can’t?” He didn’t demand, didn’t accuse, didn’t shout. He just asked.
Tor kept touching his face, kept looking into his eyes. “Because it’s not a secret that he’s my brother so a call from him now and then won’t cause problems. Can’t risk having people figure out we know each other.”
He considered that answer and thought about the recorded call from Jimmy’s. Tor very likely hadn’t said a word and Travis very clearly understood that he wouldn’t. “Are you involved in something where the cops might be listening in on your calls, Tori?”