Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
We bickered all the way to his bathroom, where he finally put me down and produced a ridiculously huge first aid kit. I asked, “What did you buy that for, Armageddon?”
“It’s good to be prepared.”
“You’re prepared, alright,” I said, as I held up several rolls of gauze. “If the slippers had killed me, you could have mummified my entire body.” He tried to frown at me, but a grin slipped through despite himself.
I dropped the gauze back into the kit and hiked up the legs of my sweatpants. My knees were discoloring and were definitely going to bruise, but I hadn’t broken the skin, so I let the pant legs drop again.
After I washed my hands, I took a seat on the edge of the tub. Miller knelt down in front of me and went to work applying antibiotic cream to my scraped up palms, followed by a weird patchwork of bandages.
While he did that, I studied the sweep of his dark lashes, and the cute little line of concentration that appeared between his brows. Then my gaze dropped to his full lips. I wondered if they were as soft as they looked. I’d really like to find out…
He interrupted my train of thought by sitting back on his heels and saying, “You’re all set. Want some ibuprofen?”
“Nah. I’m—”
“Fine?”
“Yes.”
“Are you really, or are you just saying that?”
“I’m close enough.” We both got up, and for lack of any better ideas, I asked, “Want to watch a movie or something?”
“Sure.”
He used the monitors in his office as a TV, so we got comfortable on opposite ends of the couch. He scrolled through pretty much all of Netflix, and whenever he stopped on something, I said, “Seen it.” After doing this about twenty times, he turned to look at me, and I added, “But I can watch it again.”
He started to play the movie, and I said, “It’s really surprising when the killer turns out to be her sister.” Miller shut off the movie and stared at me. “But you knew that, right? This movie came out, like, fifteen years ago. I thought everyone knew that.”
“Or maybe we could just talk, instead of trying to watch a movie,” he said.
“Love to.” He put down the remote, and we both shifted around so we were leaning against the arms of the couch. Our feet met in the middle, but I resisted the urge to play footsie.
I asked, “What do you want to talk about?”
“You’ve heard all about my love life. Now it’s your turn, tell me about yours.”
“There’s not much to tell.”
“What was your longest relationship?”
“I dated this guy named Kenny for almost a year and a half. He lived in Boise, and he was nice enough, but… eh.”
“Boring? Too quiet? Never wanted to go out?”
“No, the exact opposite. We always had to be going somewhere and doing something, usually with a whole group of his friends. It took a lot of effort for me to get away and come to see him, but once I got there, I always felt like an afterthought.”
“Who did the breaking up?”
“I guess I did. I felt like I was always the one making the effort, and always the first to reach out. So, one day I decided to see how long it would take him to text me, if I didn’t text him first.”
“How long did it take him?”
“It’s been two years, and counting.”
“Ah.”
“Yeah. I dated a few other guys, but it was nothing special. Since nobody was out in my town, my only chance of meeting anyone was when I drove to Boise, which took a little over three hours, round trip. But as my aunt got sicker and sicker, I didn’t want to leave her alone for long periods of time.”
Miller asked, “Did you have any help taking care of her?”
“She had a couple of friends I could call. They’d come and spend a day or an evening with her, and my friend Jeannie would help out sometimes. But they all had families of their own that they had to get back to, so they couldn’t stay for very long.”
“You really sacrificed for her.”
“And she sacrificed for me before that, so it was the least I could do.”
“But now, here you are,” he said, “in San Francisco, with gays as far as the eye can see.” I grinned at that, and he asked, “Have you downloaded any hookup apps yet? It’s probably going to seem like an all-you-can-eat buffet, after the bread and water diet you’re used to.”
“That’s not really my style. I don’t need to be in love with someone to have sex with them, but I do need some sort of connection. Otherwise, it just seems weird and awkward.”
“I get it. I’ve always been like that, too.”
“Did you have any serious relationships before Butt Lift Bruce?”