Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
It’s not long until we get to the restaurant, and on our way in, Mads nudges my arm with his. “I also have a small electric vehicle.”
“Huh?”
“At home. I have an electric car. I’ll remember to drive it next time. Gotta score some points after the SUV debacle.”
I chuckle, the grin on my face felt in my chest—real, not manufactured. “Kason Maddox, you’re probably the kindest person I’ve ever known. You already have infinity points.”
He grins.
I grin.
Why are we grinning?
“But is that really a good thing? When nice guys finish last?”
It would be impossible not to realize what a catch he is, or for Mads to finish last in anything. “Not when it comes to you. If that’s the case, this whole game of life is rigged.”
He holds the door open for me. “If a guy with infinity points can’t win, there’s definitely a problem.”
My stomach gets fluttery, but I do my best to ignore it.
I won’t ruin this friendship with Mads, I won’t ruin this friendship with Mads.
“Table for two?” the hostess asks.
“We have a reservation for Anthony,” Mads says, and I look at him, scrunching up my nose slightly, surprised he used my name. Mads gives me a look in return that says he’ll tell me in a moment.
The hostess leads us to a table by a window, and we take our seats.
“My name?” I ask.
“I’m careful with mine sometimes. People might notice me, of course, but I try not to leave reservations as Kason Maddox. The situation isn’t the same as being a Hollywood celebrity or anything, but I’ve had some weird situations.”
“Do you have a code name?”
Mads snickers. “I usually just use Kason and my middle name. I guess that’s the benefit of most people calling me by a nickname.”
“Do you miss being called Kason?”
“Sometimes. My parents use it, obviously. They’re not going around calling me Mads.”
The waiter comes over, a sexy guy in his early twenties with black hair and black-painted nails. His nametag says Sota. He gives me the kind of smile I’m familiar with—not one that says he’s trying to scope me out for a possible hookup, but one I recognize as most queer people would. There’s something different to the eye contact we make that straight people would probably never see or understand.
“Is this your first time here?” he asks, then gives us a quick overview of the menu. I order a glass of wine, and Mads gets a tea.
When we’re alone again, I ask, “What’s your middle name?”
He gives me a cheeky smirk. “Anthony.”
“What?”
“That’s my middle name.”
“Shut up.” No way. “Are you serious?”
“Kason Anthony Maddox.”
“Dude. We’re name twins.”
“Your middle name doesn’t happen to be Kason, does it?”
I roll my eyes playfully. “No. It’s Gian. Which is strange. It was my mom’s father’s name, and considering he disowned her at nineteen, I’ve always wondered why she named me after him.”
It takes me a moment to realize what I just did. I can’t believe I gave Mads that piece of me. I’m not good at sharing many of the truths about who I am.
“Shit, man. I’m sorry. That’s tough. You still don’t have a relationship with him now?”
Well, hell. I’ve gotten myself in a situation, haven’t I? If I don’t want to answer the question, I’m a dick since I’m the one who brought it up, but I also really don’t want to talk about it. “No. I never met him. He and my grandmother died in an accident before I was born.” I don’t even know if they knew about me, cared about me. What I do know is they were never willing to give my mom another chance. They walked away from the black sheep of the family and promptly forgot about her. Same as my uncle, until he got stuck with me.
I catch movement in my periphery and realize Mads is reaching across the table. He sets his hand on top of mine, giving it a squeeze. I can’t help watching the movement, savoring the feel of his skin against mine. It’s a caring touch, not one that comes with expectations or ulterior motives. It’s Kason’s personality in physical form…and I like it. Not for the first time, I’m thankful we’re becoming friends.
“I’m sorry. That’s really shitty.”
“It is what it is. I’d like to hear some of those stories, though.”
He frowns. “What stories?”
“The weird situations with your name.”
“Oh, I can do that. Let’s see what we want to eat first, so we’re ready when our waiter comes back—totally queer, by the way.”
“Right? I noticed that too.”
“Then we’ll get into all the strange things that come with being me.”
“Deal.”
Again, my smile is real. Malcolm might have done a lot of terrible things to me, but because of him, I have the jilted exes in my life, the best friends I’ve ever had. And because of them, I have Eric, Ana, Rylan, and now Kason, whose friendship is becoming even more important to me. I’m not sure how I got so lucky in the friends department, but I’ll do anything not to fuck it up.