Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
“Not in a gross, fetishizing way. I’ll shut up now.”
The thing is, I kinda don’t want her to shut up. I want to know how Donovan and I are sexy. I mean, I’m hot. And he’s hot, if guys are your thing. It’s not like I can’t tell when someone is good-looking, and I would say D’s gotta be like a nine. But I guess I never thought about us being sexy together, and now I can’t evict it from my mind.
“Whatever. We’re just us,” is how I respond, unsure what else to say. I put pizza on a plate for each of us, then pop hers into the microwave first.
“I’m sorry. Did I make you uncomfortable?”
Yes. Only probably not in the way she thinks. And I can’t even figure out how or why because it’s not like this is the first time someone has wondered if Donovan and I are together. But they’ve also never talked about connection and moving together and sex stuff at the same time. Maybe that’s what’s fucking with my head. “No, I’m fine. Just tired, and my ankle hurts.”
And I’m being dumb, so I decide to stop being dumb. Donovan and I are who we always have been, and I need to try to get laid or something. But then, I know I won’t do that. Not when I’m married to Donovan. Still, that must be the issue, though.
My weirdness right now has nothing to do with anything other than that.
CHAPTER TEN
Donovan
The house smells like tomatoes, garlic, and Italian spices when I walk in. Music blasts out of Eric’s phone, which sits on the kitchen counter. He’s got his back to me, hopping on one foot while singing into one of his crutches like it’s a microphone.
Not gonna lie, it’s probably the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. I can’t help smiling. This is what he does. Makes every situation, every mundane thing better and more fun.
I close the door quietly, then sneak up behind him. Eric turns when I reach him, startles, but he doesn’t stop, just grabs my hand and tries to spin himself, losing his balance in the process.
“Don’t hurt yourself.”
“I’m fine, D. I have no life. Let a man dance.”
He uses his crutches, though, and we do our best to move around together in a way that resembles dancing. He laughs when he stumbles again, but I catch him, and then the song ends.
“You’re adorable when you dance and cook.”
“I’m adorable all the time.” He waggles his brows, and like always, just being around Eric gives me a light, happy feeling.
“And of course, cocky.”
“Confident. There’s a difference. I’m confident when it comes to some things.”
And honestly, he should be and he’s right. Eric is adorable all the time.
“It smells good. I’m starving. I cleaned up some at work, but I’m gonna go change and be right back.” I kiss his temple, and Eric gives me what can only be described as a dopey grin. I mean that in the best way possible.
I head to my en suite and jump in the shower. My cock has a slight chub for some reason, and I reach down, giving it a slow stroke, but then decide I don’t have time to do that. Plus, maybe it’s weird to stand here and jerk it while Eric is waiting for me.
It’s been…interesting living with him again. I forgot how much he walks around in his boxer briefs. I can guarantee that after dinner he’ll strip down into those or a pair of low-slung nylon shorts where the band of his underwear sticks out the top, which everyone knows is the sexiest thing in the world next to gray sweatpants.
Having him so close again makes it hard not to notice how attractive he is. Eric is…well, he’s gorgeous. He’s got that boy-next-door charm, a great body, and a smile that pulls you in. It’s impossible not to notice that, and though I see him strictly as a friend, my cock doesn’t always get the memo—which is why I try not to look when he’s so willing to be naked or half naked in front of me, and also why I’m sporting a full erection now.
Fuck my life.
I will not jerk off thinking about my best friend, I will not jerk off thinking about my best friend.
I ignore my aching cock and clean up. By the time I’m done, I’m thankfully soft. After drying off, I tug on underwear, shorts, and a T-shirt. I make it into the kitchen just in time to see Eric trying to figure out how to carry serving dishes to the table.
“Hey, wait. Let me do that.”
“I planned on it, but you were in there for like ten hours. Here I am, spending my day making a meal for you after your hard day’s work, and you’re jacking it in the shower.”