Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 79147 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79147 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Peeking in the freezer, I see some frost-bitten hamburger, pizza pockets, and a frozen lasagna. I opt for the lasagna, figuring Hayden might want to eat some when he gets home.
Once it’s in the oven, I turn the television on because it feels too quiet. It’s strange how fast I’ve gotten used to sharing my place with someone else. It’s not that Hayden is here all the time, but he’s here enough that it almost feels a little lonely without him.
I head to the desk by the bar, pull a sketchbook out, go into the living room, plop down on the floor, and open it. My phone buzzes on the coffee table. I pick it up and see a text from Damon, this dude I hook up with from time to time.
Wanna play? he asks.
Damon is always a good time. I always enjoy a good time, but there’s this nagging desire in me not to leave this spot. To chill, wait for Hayden to come home, eat dinner, and maybe watch a movie or something.
Nah, I’m good. Maybe another time, I reply.
Cool. Cat’cha later, Damon sends back and then I set the phone down and start to doodle.
It’s about forty-five minutes later that the door opens.
“Honey! I’m home!” Hayden calls as he closes the door behind him.
“Perfect timing. Can you check that lasagna in the oven?” I ask, unable to pull my eyes from the picture on my paper.
“Sure.” I hear the oven open and then he says, “Looks ready. Want me to pull it out?”
I can’t help but chuckle.
“Fucking horny bastard,” he teases and then I assume takes the lasagna out of the oven. I don’t pay much attention to him and then a minute later, a shadow casts across the paper where I’m drawing.
“What’s that?” Hayden asks.
I turn and look up at him and grin. “Math Man. Saving the world one small business owner at a time. Look, he has a cape and everything.”
“What?” Hayden says, with what sounds like a little bit of awe in his voice. He kneels beside me, and I hold the book out where he can see it.
“I was bored and just fucking around. What do you think? Oh, I forgot his glasses. Hold on.” I scribble a pair of dark-framed glasses on Math Man’s face and then show Hayden again. They have the same dark hair, same long, lean build and eyes.
“I…” he starts and then his words trail off.
“You what?” I ask.
“I look damn good in those tights,” he replies, and we both start laughing. “And look at my bulge. I mean, I know I’m packing, but you might have gone a little overboard.” He’s being playful and funny, but there’s a little something different to his voice. The tone isn’t the same; I could swear I hear a slight quiver.
“Nah. I didn’t go overboard.” I wink at him then rip the page out of the sketchbook and hand it to him. “Here you go. You can have it. I’m starved. Are you hungry?” I push to my feet.
Hayden doesn’t look up at me for a moment, just continues to kneel there looking at Math Man. The urge to run my fingers through his dark brown hair hits me, and I sort of frown, not sure where it came from.
“Food? Lasagna? Yes? No?” I ask.
He shakes his head, sort of pulls himself out of whatever trance he’s in and stands. “Yeah, I could eat. I’m gonna go put this in my room, okay?” he says and I nod.
He takes the paper to his room while I go into the kitchen and scoop lasagna onto two plates. I set them on the bar, then pull two beers out of the fridge just as Hayden comes back into the room.
“So how was work today, dear?” I tease.
He smiles. “It was good. How was your day?”
“I’m exhausted. I did nothing but cook and clean the day away. The kids were outrageous, and I just wished you were home all day.”
He laughs just as he’s about to take a drink of his beer. I nudge him in the side. “It was good. And the only cooking I did was throwing a frozen meal in the oven. Spent the rest of my day tattooing and working out with Travis, so it was cool. I know I already said this, but thank you again for helping Doc out. I don’t want to see him get taken advantage of. Things are already hard enough on him right now without him feeling like he made a bad decision on top of it.”
Hayden frowns. “What’s wrong with him?”
I take a long swallow of beer, sigh, and say, “He has some nerve shit going on. He gets real shaky sometimes. Never knows when it will hit. He’s had to stop tattooing because of it. That shop is his life.”