Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Not that I was jealous, or anything.
Besides, seeing Chase in a ritzy place might be interesting on its own.
“I’ll go,” I told Shawn.
“Hell yes,” he said. “You’ll enjoy yourself, I promise. The food is going to be killer.”
Shawn and I turned back to more plans for the guest bathroom in the house, but I was distracted as we talked things over. I still couldn’t stop bouncing my leg, and I bit at my bottom lip as Shawn tried to explain different options for bathroom sinks.
“You okay, Adam?” Shawn asked after I’d zoned out for a moment, thinking about Chase.
“Sorry,” I said automatically, pulling in a quick breath. “You were talking about a raised sink?”
“I’m more concerned about you right now, to be honest,” Shawn said. “You seemed so chill until I brought up the dinner. If you really don’t want to go, we can just tell Emmett you can’t make it.”
“No, no,” I said. “It’s not that.”
Shawn cocked his head to one side, keeping his eyes on me. “What’s up, then? What’s bugging you?”
I felt uneasy having him look at me like that. This was exactly the kind of social stuff I wasn’t good at. Shawn was a really nice person, and he really was just trying to be kind to me, checking in on me because I seemed “off.”
But I didn’t know what to say.
I sure as hell wasn’t going to blurt out what was going on in my mind: for fuck’s sake, I’m just way too into a guy that I can’t have. And, oh yeah, he’s also one of the main camera operators on your TV show, and we filmed very explicit videos the other day.
“Hey, love,” a voice came from beside the table. Rush appeared at our side, leaning in to press a kiss to Shawn’s lips. “How’s it going, guys?”
Shawn and Rush got caught up in a conversation for a minute, and I got a much-needed chance to hang back.
“You doing well?” Rush asked me before heading back behind the bar. “Need any food, snacks?”
“I’m doing great,” I said. “The brewery is nice at this time of day.”
He smiled. “Still another few hours before this place is filled with drinkers and dancers and fuckboys. Enjoy the rest of your meeting, I’ll get out of your hair.”
I turned back to Shawn as Rush walked off. “I have a question,” I told Shawn.
“Lay it on me.”
“What exactly is a fuckboy?”
Shawn nodded thoughtfully. “Kind of like a player, but less in-your-face about it. A guy who just wants hookups, no strings attached. Maybe a guy who kind of charms you, and you start getting feelings for him, but then he backs off quickly.”
I swallowed. It sounded like he was describing Chase, exactly.
I remembered one of the embarrassing Youtube videos I’d watched a few months back, all about tips and tricks to help with social confidence. Just like the articles, the video had said that one of the tips was to get a little bit vulnerable with acquaintances, telling them how you felt about things.
Shawn really did seem concerned about me. So maybe I could tell him at least a smidgen of the truth.
“I see,” I said. “Well, um, that’s what I’ve been nervous about.”
“Fuckboys?”
I nodded. “I’m totally fine going to the dinner on Friday. But I think I just have a fuckboy in my life, and I’m really nervous about that.”
“Ahh,” Shawn said, sitting back in the booth and putting his arms up on the top of the leather. “So you’re thinking about personal stuff, not anything to do with the renovation. That makes me feel a little better.”
I sure as hell wasn’t going to mention that it definitely had something to do with the renovation.
I breathed deep, trying to choose my words carefully. “I recently had some… interactions with a fuckboy, and I’m not used to it, I guess. I don’t want to get anything confused.”
“You don’t want to develop feelings?”
“Right,” I said.
Fuck. This was exactly the kind of conversation I’d heard the other Fixer Brothers guys chatting about dozens of times now, during breaks on the show or when they were busy sledgehammering. It was a completely appropriate conversation for two guys to be having, but for some reason I felt so awkward.
“I’ve got you,” Shawn said. “The first rule is, never get a crush on a fuckboy.”
Checkmate.
Already screwed that one up.
“Okay,” I said. “Any other rules?”
“Well, if you really think he’s unavailable, don’t let him get into your heart,” Shawn continued. “Fuckboys are usually really charming. Is yours a charmer?”
My heart squeezed in my chest. “Big time,” I said. “He’s probably the most charming person I’ve met in years.”
“Oof,” Shawn said. “Then you’ve got to guard yourself against those charms. Easier said than done.”
“Right.”
“The last rule, I guess, is the best one,” Shawn said. “Just have fun. Don’t let yourself think it’ll be serious, or permanent. Because it probably won’t be. But if you play your cards right, you can have a ton of fun before both of you move on.”