Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
So I’d have to make it up to him. And maybe I’d start now.
It was Saturday, and surprisingly, I didn’t have much on my schedule except an early afternoon errand and some work on my computer later to set up for a couple of open houses tomorrow.
I rolled out of bed, then started the coffee and searched for the right frying pan.
Grabbing eggs and bacon from the fridge, I began cooking breakfast, which almost never happened. But maybe Skylar could use the sustenance after a night of sweating his ass off at the club. I felt my neck heat up as I thought of those shorts—if you could call them that—and all the men ogling him. I would’ve died under the pressure, but he seemed to eat it up. Turned out my childhood friend was pretty wild. At least according to my standards.
I made myself a cup of coffee, took some gulps, then reached for the sharp cheddar to add to the scrambled eggs, hoping Skylar liked it.
“I won’t lie,” Skylar said, shuffling sleepily to the coffeepot, “it was the smell that woke me. Please tell me those are for us and not for like, a potluck brunch at your mom’s house.”
“Well, that would just be cruel.” I chuckled. “Thought you could use a good breakfast—well, technically, brunch—after burning all those calories.”
He actually blushed, and turned away to reach for a mug. It was cute seeing him less confident than he normally was.
He planted himself on a kitchen stool with his coffee, and watched me plate our food. With his hair disheveled and his face scrubbed free of makeup, he looked like a younger version of himself, and just as appealing.
Friends. Do the friends thing, I reminded myself. Think about the jizz-hands.
That did the trick, though I almost gagged.
I topped off our coffees and joined him at the counter. “So what are your plans today?” I asked as casually as I could muster while he dug into his eggs.
“Not sure. Some errands maybe and then work later.” He swallowed a forkful. “Why do you ask?”
“I, uh…” I stuttered as I lifted a piece of bacon. “Do you feel like hanging out?”
When his eyes lit up, my stomach did that dippy thing again.
“What do you have in mind?”
“Well, I have a property for sale in Lake Oswego, and it has this private waterfront view…”
“Fancy.”
He wasn’t wrong. It was one of the richest neighborhoods in Portland.
“I have to drop by there for a minute, and thought maybe you’d want to tag along? We could go for a walk along the water.” I winced, second-guessing myself. “Probably sounds boring.”
“No, it sounds perfect,” he replied around a yawn. “I’m not always ready for a party. I like my quiet moments too.”
“Yeah?” I asked, and he nodded. “Okay, cool.”
Once he declared himself stuffed, he went off to change while I cleared our dishes. We did a couple of loads of laundry before heading out the door. So domestic, and I liked it. Liked having someone around to help with the mundane things.
The early afternoon breeze felt perfect as we drove with cracked windows, the sky was a perfect blue, and the sun was blazing. We made small talk about what I did for a living, and I told him about some of the properties I sold, which were a mix of commercial and residential.
Once we got to that part of town, Skylar seemed in awe as we drove through the streets to the gated community. He didn’t comment any further, just took it all in, and I could see how from his vantage point, these houses might look like mansions. For me, having sold a whole range of properties, these were modest in comparison, but still pricey because of the waterfront view.
When we arrived at the house, I installed a lockbox on the door so other realtors could bring their clients to the property, then asked Skylar if he wanted a tour of the place.
“Hell yes,” he said as I pushed open the door.
We moved from room to room, which had been staged to help it sell more quickly. It wasn’t exactly my taste, but a lot of thought went into which design was used, and it definitely fit the style of the architecture and current trends in other houses on the market in this area.
“Would you ever want to live in a place like this?” Skylar asked, scrunching his nose at an abstract statue on the table behind the sofa, that neither of us could make heads or tails of.
“Nah, not my kind of thing,” I replied, and his head snapped up in surprise. “I like my creature comforts, but I don’t really care about all this space.”
“Right? Plus, more to clean. I’d be hopeless.”
I snickered. “I’m sure whoever buys this can afford a cleaning service.”