Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 60198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
The whole swapping places thing only works because his boyfriends don’t know I exist. When Anders started getting me to do this for him a few years ago, he suggested I pierce my brow. That was going way past the line, and I told him to fuck off.
“Does that happen often?” the girl I’m with asks and steps closer. I should probably find out her name.
“First time I’ve been kissed by someone, but we get mistaken for each other all the time. Sometimes I think our parents can’t even tell us apart. For all I know, I was born Anders and he’s Law.”
“Your name is Law?” she asks with a giggle.
“Lawson. Our parents wanted us to grow up to be lawyers or something. Anderson and Lawson sounds like a bloody law firm.”
“They’re cool names. My name is boring. It’s Jodie.”
“Thanks for the dance, Jodie, but I think I’m gonna head home. I’ve had a long day and an even longer night.” And my shirt is still damp.
“No worries.” Jodie takes off towards her friend, and I make a beeline to the exit.
It’s a short walk home to our apartment, and I text Anders on the way, telling him I’ve gone home. He responds by calling me a pussy.
My brother, ladies and gentlemen.
Walking through the streets, I can’t help thinking about my brief kiss with what’s-his-face. It may’ve been short, but it’s fuelled a fire. I want more. Not from him, but in general.
I can’t ignore it anymore.
2
Reed
This is the first and last time I let my neighbour set me up on a date. Deb is great. She let me use her Wi-Fi when I first moved into my apartment last week until I could set up my account. She knew I didn’t know anyone in town and tried to set me up with her daughter. When I stammered, she said, “Oh, I’m guessing you were hoping I had a son instead.” And that’s how I ended up here, waiting at a restaurant for some guy who’s not her son but her accountant. He’s twenty minutes late.
I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to date again. Being dumped by your long-term boyfriend sucks. It’s not great for my confidence or my ego to find out he was a lying asshole.
Welcome to Loserville. Population, me.
God, what if my blind date turned up, got one look at me, and then left? I stare down at my chinos, dress shirt, and sweater. Fuck, when did I start dressing like a teacher outside of the classroom too?
“Hi,” a deep voice says beside me.
I’m met with brown eyes smiling down at me. “Anderson?” I ask.
From his closely trimmed beard to his wild, dark hair on top his head, he’s about as close to the perfect male specimen as you could get. But by the look of his hoodie and jeans, I’m definitely overdressed.
The guy clears his throat and takes the seat opposite me. “I prefer Anders.”
“I’m Reed.”
“I know. My client said.”
“I’m sorry about her. I’m new to Brisbane, and she kind of adopted me. Apparently that means she’s comfortable enough to set me up with someone she doesn’t know very well.”
Anders smiles. “She did say ‘You’re gay, right? My new neighbour is gay. He’s a teacher. You’d love him.’”
“Does she think you’d love me because I’m a teacher or because I’m also gay?”
“Who knows with straight people.”
I laugh.
“Are you new to town or new to Queensland?” Anders asks. “Let me guess. Melbournite?”
Do I look like a pretentious hipster? “I grew up about two hours north of here. A small suburb on the Sunny Coast.”
“Oh, so you’re used to Queensland summers. They’re hot as balls.”
I snort. “And you’re an accountant? No, offence, but you don’t look like an accountant.”
“You don’t look like a teacher. A PE teacher, maybe.”
What else does a guy do when he’s not getting laid other than work out? Maybe my breakup with Ben six months ago was for the better. With how Anders is eyeing me, I think it’s definitely paid off.
“PE teachers are usually fat, so I take offence,” I joke.
“I mean, you look fit.” His eyes travel over my arms. “Muscly.”
“You look fit yourself.” It’s been six long celibate months. I may not want a relationship, but I am a man.
“We ordering dinner?” he asks, his voice gruff.
“Sure. Or …”
“Or?”
“Or we could take it to go.”
He swallows hard, and his Adam’s apple bobs. “Or we could forget dinner completely.”
“My place?”
Anders stands. “Lead the way.”
We’re out the door and on the street faster than physically possible. “It’s two blocks in this direction,” I say and tilt my head to the right.
We walk in hurried silence, the only sound being our feet on the pavement and the cars on the street. We make it a block before hesitance makes me wary. Now that we’re doing this, he’s gone quiet.