Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Kit asked, “So, what are you going to do now?”
“I guess I’ll go back to the same hotel from last night.”
“Or you could come home with me.” He quickly added, as if he thought he needed to sweeten the deal, “Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. My housemates and I have a more-the-merrier policy when it comes to holidays and celebrations. You could spend the night and then join us for dinner if you wanted to…”
There’d been no signs all evening that he had any interest in me beyond friendship, so I’d kept my flirting in check. But now I wasn’t so sure, so I asked, “Just so I don’t jump to the wrong conclusion, are you inviting me over because I need someplace to sleep, or because you want us to hook up?”
He shifted his gaze to the sidewalk, a pink flush rising in his cheeks as he mumbled, “I’d like it to be the second thing, but it’s up to you.”
“That’s what I want too, but we had some drinks tonight. If you’re feeling tipsy, then we shouldn’t—”
“I had my last margarita over three hours ago, before switching to soda. I’m totally sober.”
“Good, same here. I just wanted to be sure.”
He glanced at me and asked, “So, are you coming over?”
I slung the strap of my duffle bag over my shoulder and gestured with a flourish. “Lead the way.”
3
Kit
I didn’t make a habit of inviting people I’d just met to come home with me, but after spending several hours together, I felt comfortable with Devon. More than that, I liked him. He was fascinating, not to mention smoking hot, and I really wanted to spend more time with him—some of that with our clothes off.
After we closed out the restaurant, I finally gathered my courage, choking out a proposition so awkward that he had to ask for clarification. Once I managed to explain what I wanted, it turned out he was into it. That was a huge relief. I’d been worried about making things weird between us and potentially ruining a new friendship.
When we reached the pink Victorian I shared with five other people, he looked up at it and said, “Oh wow, it’s so cute.”
I nodded in agreement. “I feel incredibly lucky to live here. I was actually homeless for a few months before this, until my friend Hal and my landladies took me in. He’s in Texas now because he fell in love with a cowboy, and I miss him. But I’m also thrilled for him, because he’s really happy.” Okay, Devon definitely didn’t need to know all of that. I was nervous about the night ahead though, and that made me ramble.
He turned to me with a concerned expression. “Were you living in a homeless shelter, or…”
“I was secretly living in an art studio on my college campus. I could have gotten expelled if anyone had found out I was doing that, so I was always on edge. But it wasn’t nearly as stressful as living on the street would have been.”
When we went inside, I knew right away that everyone had already gone to bed, because the house was perfectly still. I also knew some of my housemates had gotten a jump-start on their holiday prep, because the heavenly smell of freshly baked pie lingered in the air.
As I led Devon up the stairs, I whispered, “Everyone’s asleep, so we have to be quiet.”
“Okay.”
Since I was still nervously rambling, I whispered, “I’m currently renting two rooms on the second floor. One is my bedroom, and the other used to be Hal’s. He gave me his sewing machine and a bunch of other stuff when he moved to Texas, so I decided to leave everything where it was and use that room as my studio. I thought I’d be making a decent income from my custom designs by now. That isn’t really happening though, so I’ll be combining my stuff into one room by the end of the year. That way, I’ll save on rent, and my landladies can get another tenant in here.”
We paused on the landing, and I gestured at the studio’s open door. “If you want, you can put your things in there.”
I followed him into the room and stuck the squirrel and Devon’s backpack on my worktable. After he piled the rest of his stuff in the corner, he turned to a work in progress on one of my dress forms. “This is incredible,” he said. “You’re really talented.”
The red, sequined gown was a mermaid style, its fitted shape flaring into a full ruffle at the knee. It featured a plunging neckline and an elaborate, upright collar with long, red feathers radiating from it like a sunburst. “I sewed that, but I didn’t design it. The drag queen who commissioned it knew exactly what she wanted and sketched it for me. She’s wearing it in a holiday showcase next month.”