Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Ironically, some of those composition notebooks were now worth an unimaginable sum, especially the one where I’d written the first draft of “Not Mine.”
But they weren’t just reams and reams of my song lyrics. They were also filled with my private thoughts. From the preteen angst in the first volume, where I admitted I’d secretly trashed Rosie’s favorite orange bucket hat because I couldn’t stand looking at it anymore, to the most recent entry, where I admitted I’d imagined Trace’s hands on me when Jake had kissed me last night.
Those thoughts were between me and myself, so those notebooks would never be sold. My estate planning documents even had instructions to destroy them immediately in the event of my death so my secrets would be forever kept.
I opened the windows to let fresh air in and picked up my guitar to play something. “Into the Watercolor Morning,” a song that would always remind me of the Grand Canyon, was a new favorite. So I played the chords and sang the lyrics about chasing something I couldn’t hold.
The song was about letting go. Not letting go of Trace exactly, or of wanting him. But letting go of an old part of myself. One that had felt stuck in a dead end.
The rap on the van door startled me. I glanced up, heart rabbiting in anticipation of another confrontation with Trace… but it was only Brennan.
“Hey,” I said, suddenly breathless.
“Hey,” he said. “Mind if I come in? I need a sanity check.”
I gestured for him to come in and sit on the passenger seat, which was turned to face the van interior. Then I hopped back on the bed and sat with my feet dangling. “What’s going on? Something with Val?”
He nodded, looking miserable. “He stayed over last night. In my van. In my… bed.”
I felt my eyes widen. “Did something happen?”
“No,” he groaned. “That’s just it. He didn’t even touch me. No cuddles. No brushing up against each other. Just… two bros sleeping side by side, completely bro-like. It was fucking torture.”
“I don’t understand. Why’d he even stay over?”
“Right? That’s my question. He said he wanted to come say good night to Pup, which, fine. That’s normal. Val loves that cat almost as much as I do. But then he kind of hovered awkwardly until I started saying good night and moving him toward the door.”
Brennan looked down at his hands. “He just kind of blurted out, ‘Hey, I was thinking maybe I could stay here tonight.’ And I, like, looked at him. I must have seemed really confused because he kind of winced and mumbled about a strong epoxy smell in his van from some work he’d done. But, like, that makes no sense because he told me earlier yesterday he couldn’t glue his mount-thing down because he left his epoxy back in Vegas.”
“Babe,” I said gently. “Is it possible he’s actually into you?”
He looked at me with a flat look. “We’ve been over this. He’s straight.”
I nodded. “And I told you about my cousin Tommy. Also straight. On the verge of marrying his girlfriend when he fell for a dude. Definitely not straight anymore.”
“Val and I have been friends for three years, Will. Best friends for at least two of them. And we’ve only spent like six weeks apart in all that time. Don’t you think something would have happened by now if I had any hope?”
I hesitated before nodding. “I guess so. But could there be another explanation? Maybe he’s scared of something.”
Brennan shook his head. “He’s been living solo in a van for five years. He doesn’t get spooked easily. If anything, I’m the scaredy-cat.”
I reached out and ruffled his hair while bouncing my eyebrows. “Maybe he thought you were scared, and he decided to keep you company.”
He opened his mouth to disagree, then seemed to remember something. “Oh. Shit. Maybe?”
“Wait, what? You were actually scared?”
His eyes shifted to mine and then away. “I mean… there was a guy last night that was kind of looking at me funny. I mentioned it to Val, but then…” He huffed out a laugh. “I realized the guy was only trying to read the Veteran’s Day Fun-Run slogan on my shirt. I think he was a vet himself. I, uh, might have forgotten to tell Val that part.”
I didn’t have a chance to say anything before he blurted, “Okay, fine! I deliberately didn’t say anything because Val moved closer to me and put his arm around me. There, are you happy? Jesus.”
I snorted and burst out laughing. “Yes, I’m happy. Happy to know I’m not the only person who does stupid shit. Finally, another idiot.”
His cheeks were flushed, and he started laughing with me, even though he was embarrassed. “Do you really think that’s why Val stayed over? The vet guy was ancient. He was like forty-five or something! Probably served in one of the world wars.”