Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 82508 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82508 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
“You’re … defending him. Are you, like, friends?”
I stare at the ceiling, tempted to tell her about Jacobs and me, but the thing is, we’re only hooking up. I don’t even know if I can say that we’re friends.
We’re two guys who are hanging out and having sex. Does that make us friends?
We make each other come. Exclusively.
And have fun.
“How long are you staying for?” I ask because I could think about her question all damn night and still not find an answer.
“I don’t know. I don’t want to be in New York by myself for the rest of summer, and all my friends at Harvard have gone home for the break.”
“You can stay here as long as you don’t get caught. We’re not supposed to have guests in the dorms.”
“Thanks. I’ll probably only need a few days to work something out. I had to get away from Daddy.”
Welcome to my entire existence.
“The saddest part is he probably doesn’t even care that I left.”
I’d like to say that’s not true, but I have no idea.
Dad’s a very traditional type of person. Where men are superior and women are playthings or possessions and should be seen but not heard. Our mom is an ex-Playboy Playmate. Something I wish I didn’t know about my mother and happy as fuck that none of the guys at Colchester have found out. High school was a pain in the ass.
Those “yo momma” jokes, I’ve heard them all.
It’s so much easier being in a different state where they’re too busy to visit. Because if Dad is proud of one thing, it’s his picture-perfect family. The trophy wife he loves to show off and boast about her being in Playboy once upon a time, the son who will follow in his footsteps, and his own little princess.
I don’t think he gives an actual shit about any of us, only the image. Except maybe Mom. They do appear to be in love.
“I’m sorry Dad can’t see how amazing you are,” I whisper.
She doesn’t reply. She’s probably asleep again.
It’s not the first time I’ve wondered what Baby and Dad’s relationship would be like if I wasn’t around. Would he take her seriously if she was the only heir to his fortune?
More importantly, would I be able to survive without Dad funding my lifestyle?
Jacobs’s judging face fills my mind.
Right.
First-world problems.
I try to get to sleep, but all I can think is how much more comfortable I’d be if I were in Jacobs’s bed with him.
Tomorrow night.
And if my sister is staying a while, maybe the night after that too. And the one after that.
I spend the next week sneaking out of my room after Baby’s asleep, taking the stairs between levels, and knocking on Jacobs’s door. We make each other come with our mouths, our hands, and once he made me come by grinding on top of me, his cock dragging along mine. Then, when morning comes, I sneak back into my room and pretend I stayed there the whole night.
A few times while Jacobs has been choking on my dick and fingering my ass, I’ve been tempted to ask him to fuck me, but it seems we were all talk while he was drunk. And maybe I was a little overconfident on that front, but I’ve been thinking about it.
A lot.
Whenever I’ve contemplated telling him, I get scared off by the fact a dick is bigger than a finger.
He hasn’t brought it up either.
One day … maybe when he admits he actually likes me. I did say I’d make him work for it, after all.
By day, we’re still seen as rivals even though we’re working as a team on the ice as much as in bed at night. Camp is seriously still the most fulfilling thing I’ve done in my life.
I’m always chasing that high, the adrenaline only stupidity and attention-seeking behavior can bring, but coaching these kids is a different kind of fun.
It leaves a lasting impression on my soul instead of a quick adrenaline high followed by a depressing crash.
After another fulfilling but exhausting day, I get back to my dorm to find my sister sitting across my bed, so I flop down beside her.
“Sorry we’re not spending much time together. This camp thing has a crazy packed schedule.”
“Mm, you look exhausted,” she says.
“Thanks. You’re beautiful too.”
She smiles. “You know, you’d probably get more sleep if you stopped sneaking out at night.”
My face falls. “Say what?” My voice is comically high-pitched.
“I got up to pee in the middle of the night and noticed you were gone.”
I swallow hard. “Oh, last night? Yeah, I, uh …” Come up with a good lie, damn it! “Snacks! I was … getting snacks.”
Why does the one person I can never lie to have to be so damn observant?
“Yeah, no, that was three nights ago. Then, two nights ago, I randomly woke up and rolled over and you were gone. And then last night, I set an alarm to wake up to check … So … Who is she?”