Everything About You Read Online Jeanne St. James

Categories Genre: Angst, College, Contemporary, Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 94460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
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He wasn’t so skinny any more, either. His shoulders were broader than what I remembered and he had filled out all over. His thighs, his chest… Even his face.

He wasn’t fat, but solid. Very muscular. It was clear he spent a lot of time working on his physique.

He looked good.

Better than good.

But I reminded myself none of that mattered.

I nodded. “I would, Roe. I didn’t know you lived here or I wouldn’t have signed the lease. I don’t want to make this awkward for either of us.”

He glanced back over his shoulder at my kids. They were both starting to get antsy, obvious by their shuffling feet and the impatience on their faces.

Both were about to break. I needed to get back to them before they went into full meltdown mode right there in the lobby. I didn’t need Ronan to know that I was a failure as a parent as much as I had been as a boyfriend. And husband.

When I turned my attention back to my former lover, I realized he’d been watching me. Closely.

“No, you don’t need to move. We’re adults now. We can act like it, right? We’ll probably hardly run into each other, anyway.”

Sure. “We’ll probably be like two passing ships in the night,” I half-teased on a stilted laugh.

“Right. Two passing ships in the night,” Ronan repeated dryly. “With one being a battleship so it could blow the schooner out of the water when they least expect it.”

Damn it. “Roe…”

His broad chest rose as he took a slow, deep inhale and then pushed the air out just as slowly. “It’s fine. Stay. I don’t want you to uproot your kids because of me.”

I was tempted to tell him that my kids had no roots here. Not yet. That meant now would be the perfect time for me to find somewhere else to live.

But, honestly, I was relieved about not having to move again. At least right now. Even if I kept running into him. Then, if things got weird or unbearable between us… I’d reconsider it. By then I might have a few paychecks under my belt at my new job and hopefully be more financially stable.

I didn’t want to tell Ronan any of that because I was embarrassed by how far I had fallen.

It was my business. We were no longer friends or lovers, nor did we share a future.

We were nothing to each other anymore.

Not a damn thing.

That thought caused sharp shards of pain to explode through my chest.

I pressed my hand to my heart and Ronan’s dark eyes followed the motion. “You okay?”

No. “Yes, fine. I need to get back to my kids.”

He nodded.

It hit me then that he’d be heading up to his apartment, too. We would have to ride the elevator together and I’d have to introduce my “friend” to my children.

The past meeting my future.

I didn’t know if I could do it. Not yet.

Not today.

“Can you do me a favor?” I asked in a whisper, hating to have to ask this of him.

I waited to get a bunch of flak for my request, but surprisingly, I didn’t.

“What?”

“Can you wait to use the elevator until I get my kids upstairs? I’m sorry to have to ask that of you, but…” How messed up would it be if we lived on the same damn floor?

His firm but soft, “Go,” had me nodding in relief and I went.

CHAPTER 4

Ronan (Then)

I barely ducked in time to avoid an elbow coming from my left, then a few seconds later, a half-inflated beach ball being batted around overhead. The music was cranked so loud I doubted I’d be able to hear my professors for the next week. But it needed to be at a deafening level to even be heard over the cheers, hoots, whistles, stomping and beer chugging chants.

Noise. That was what it was. An out-of-control commotion made up of questionable music and drunk college students trying to talk over each other.

No, not talk. Shout. They were well past the decibel level where talking could be heard.

Guaranteed, everyone would have a hangover tomorrow or, at minimum, a headache.

Some of the party-goers still wore clothes, some were half-naked and others… not a stitch of clothes could be found. Some bare bodies even had paint on them like at a NFL or college football game. Only the drawings and words would have to be pixelated for national TV.

It seemed like an endless sea of thoroughly pickled cocky guys and ditzy girls. Maybe that wasn’t one hundred percent true but close enough. The cocky and ditzy part, not the pickled part. That was definitely true. It also wasn’t so much a party as a hookup haven, even though I was being both looked over or looked through.

It was not quite my scene but I was also disgusted and amazed, as well as fascinated and amused all at the same time. However, the amusement waned a bit when the guy standing next to me rushed to the corner to puke. Not in a plant or vase or a trash can.


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