Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92688 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92688 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
I didn’t think it was possible that he could get any redder, but he did right after he inadvertently called me a dick. But instead of shutting himself up, his rambling got worse.
“And that thing with your throat, yeah, I was staring because of the way you were swallowing and stuff and it was hot, but I’m allowed to look at a guy and think he’s hot – it doesn’t mean I’m going to hit on him…you! Jesus!”
Nolan’s eyes were wide as he stared at me.
“Please don’t kick my ass.”
An unbidden smile traveled the length of my lips and I reached for the pad of paper, wrote him a message, and then turned my attention back to the stove but watched him out of the corner of my eye.
I didn’t name him after the guy from the Avengers. Loki means “trickster” in Norse legend which fit him because he used to always manage to get out of his pen and follow me around the property while I was working.
“Well, damn,” Nolan said softly after he finished reading the message. “Any chance we can just pretend the last thirty seconds didn’t happen?”
No chance in hell, but I didn’t tell him that. I merely nodded and wrote him another message. I wasn’t ballsy enough to admit he and I had much more in common than he thought, but I definitely wanted to put him at ease.
Before we go back in time, am I at least hotter than the guy who plays Loki?
Nolan visibly relaxed and a smile played across his pretty mouth. “In deference to my future husband, Tom Hiddleston, no comment.”
Nolan sat back down, and I was keenly aware of him watching me as I finished getting dinner ready. But the self-consciousness that he was just focused on my limp or on my throat wasn’t there this time around. I’d always noticed Nolan sending me secret glances when we’d been kids, but to know that he might be attracted to me now was a heady experience. It almost had me wishing I could test the theory further, but the reminder that I wasn’t worthy of a guy like Nolan returned swift and sharp. Even if I’d had a sound body and the ability to talk to him beyond some chicken scratch on a notepad or simplistic texts on my phone, I had nothing to offer a guy like Nolan. He might have been back in Pelican Bay because of whatever circumstances had forced him home for the time being, but I wasn’t foolish enough to believe he’d stay.
If he’d been any other guy, I wouldn’t have hesitated to pursue a mutually beneficial physical relationship. But my gut was telling me Nolan was the kind of guy who didn’t do no-strings hookups. And since I’d fucked with Nolan’s head enough when he’d been a kid, I wasn’t about to do it again.
When I settled a big plate of spaghetti in front of Nolan twenty minutes later, color tinged his cheeks when his stomach let out a loud growl. I smiled and handed him a fork and he immediately dug in. It wasn’t until he’d inhaled half the plate of pasta that he slowed down enough to actually savor the food.
“Thank you,” he said softly, his eyes meeting mine. I’d sat kitty-corner to him, so I was able to see the expressions play over his face as he spoke. “For everything,” he added.
I nodded, and any doubt I had about Nolan working at the center evaporated.
It wouldn’t make up for what I’d done to him as a kid, but if I could take even a little bit of that brokenness away from him that I’d spied yesterday, it was worth it. I would just keep my distance from him while he was here.
I reached for the pad of paper and wrote, So, you’re coming back tomorrow? Jerry didn’t scare you off?
Nolan read the message and then looked up at me. He smiled and said, “No, Jerry didn’t scare me off. I’ll be back.”
His words shouldn’t have sent a scurry of warmth skittering through me.
We didn’t talk throughout the rest of the meal.
A fact that I should have been happy about, but that, instead, left me feeling like I’d lost out on something. As I began collecting the dishes, Nolan went to the laundry room to change back into his clothes. He returned with my carefully folded sweats and shirt. After placing them on the island, he said, “Thank you for dinner. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I reached out to grab his arm as he walked past me.
I held up my finger to indicate he should wait, then went to turn off the faucet. When he saw me reach for my jacket on the hook near the door he said, “No, it’s okay, you don’t need to walk me out.”