Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 65884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 329(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 329(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
“Ty.”
I did a double take at Carson. “What are you doing here?”
“You know Gus. He invited everyone—even the football team. Arlo and a bunch of the guys are…well, somewhere in there.” He gestured toward the mob scene nearby.
“Oh, right. Cool. Have fun.”
I slipped outside and headed down a long driveway packed with cars. Carson followed me. Once again, a few months ago, I would have welcomed him with a knowing look and an open fly. Now…I wished he’d take a hint so this didn’t have to get weird.
“Wait up.”
“I can’t. Later.” I gave a tight smile and went to search for my Jeep, parked at the end of Langley’s street.
This section of town was called the Bluffs. It was semi-rural, and eerily quiet. On a clear night, you could see stars forever.
Fun fact: Smithton was built on a hill with the university at the center. Restaurants like Bear Depot and Vincento’s were at the bottom of the hill off Main Street with other businesses like Yoggi’s Yogurt, Coffee Cave, the market, drug store, a gazillion boutiques, and affordable student housing—which was where I lived, along with more than half the student population.
Next came the residential area where Walker lived, and beyond that was farmland. The area in between was called the Bluffs, even though it didn’t overlook anything. It was just a divide between fields of grazing cows and civilization. A perfect spot for parties if you asked Langley, since his closest neighbor was a quarter of a mile down a tree-lined road. Or murder, I supposed.
It was also ideal for clandestine hookups. Trust me, I knew what I was talking about.
Hey, this was college. I’d gone from sharing a dorm room to sharing an apartment with a teammate. Privacy was a luxury, and I understood why Carson might think the stars had aligned for a no-fuss, low-risk fuck. Over the hood of my ride or in my back seat.
Or…we could go to my place. Brady was at the party. He wouldn’t be home for hours. If I was interested. I wasn’t.
I jiggled my keys in my pocket and sighed with frustration at the sound of footsteps behind me. I turned to deal with Carson, but he was on me, shoving me against the passenger side door, his warm breath on my neck as he pressed the heel of his hand on my zipper, massaging my cock through a layer of denim.
“Jesus, I want you so bad. Let me touch you, Ty. I missed this so much. I want—”
“Whoa!” I pushed him off me with a growl. “What the fuck?”
Carson blinked in surprise, and I couldn’t blame him. But I wasn’t playing this game anymore.
He licked his lower lip. “What do you mean? Didn’t you want me to follow you?”
“No. I didn’t. I’m not…” I huffed a laugh, unsure how to explain myself.
“You’re seeing someone,” he guessed, narrowing his eyes. “Who?”
“It’s not—”
“Oh.” Carson’s mouth formed a perfect O. “Don’t tell me…you’re fucking the redhead.”
Not a question, a statement.
“Jesus.” I raked my fingers through my hair. “I don’t—”
“Hey, it’s cool. I kind of wondered what was going on. I’ve seen you with him on campus. A lot. I get it. He’s a new flavor, Internet famous, and—”
“It’s not—it’s not like that.” Walker was more to me. Much more.
“Sure. Does anyone know?” Silence. “No shit. Interesting.” More silence. Carson raised his hands in surrender. “Okay. Whatever.”
He made a meal out of adjusting his semi and turned away.
“Hey, Carson?” I waited for him to face me, hating that this was necessary. “Don’t say anything.”
He scoffed. “Who am I gonna tell? Just…call me when you get bored. Or when he gets bored of you.”
I worked my jaw, gnashing my teeth in an effort to control a new burst of anger I wasn’t sure I was entitled to.
So much for being out of the closet.
The string of half-truths and lies of omission felt heavy as fuck. I mean…how was it that my ex-fuck-buddy knew about Walker and me, and my agent knew who Walker’s dad was? Those were our secrets. No one else was supposed to know that stuff.
I still believed it was perfectly acceptable to keep our private lives under wraps. And it wasn’t as if anything had changed. It was just that Carson was the last person I’d tell. He was, well…insignificant. Not a friend, not an enemy—just someone I used to fuck.
I felt trapped by the things I didn’t say. I wasn’t real anymore. I hid good things while pretending to be transparent. Playing it safe so I wouldn’t lose something I didn’t have anyway. Walker wasn’t mine to lose. He wasn’t coming with me to Florida next year. He’d laugh if I suggested it. Or would he?
Would the Jackals care if I had a boyfriend? Did I want a boyfriend?
See what I mean? I was a mess.