Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 129881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 649(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 649(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
So, it’s not that weird.
I suppose I could get over this, over him, and move on. We’ll be friends and nothing more. Why torture myself with wanting someone I’m not supposed to have?
Or, option two, I could talk to someone who knows the ins and outs of being a sponsor so well they’re bound to know if these so-called rules are flexible in any way.
This person also loves me like a son (he has yet to say those actual words, but the intent is clear) and will undoubtedly lead the charge for team Fake (Felix and Jake) because my lifelong happiness is important to him.
Are you shocked I’m going with option two? You shouldn’t be.
Standing on the porch, I smile at Maria, Dean’s wife, when she opens the front door and greets me in her apron.
I immediately think about Jake.
“Felix. Hi.”
“Hello.”
“Dean didn’t tell me you were stopping by this morning.” She holds the door open for me, and I step inside.
“I’m surprising him,” I say. “Is it okay that I’m here? I know it’s early.”
“Of course. You’re welcome here anytime. You know that.” Maria stands on her toes and pulls me in for a hug.
It’s crushing, her arms locking me in so tight against her little frame. It’s a mother’s hug.
I love hugs like this.
I smile as I pull away. “You smell like syrup.”
“You caught me making french toast.” She winks. “Perfect timing.”
My mouth waters.
Maria’s french toast always comes with optional ice cream. She’s a straight up goddess.
“Awesome,” I say.
“Dean is out back on the patio with Carsen. I’ll let you know when breakfast is ready.” She squeezes my hand before stepping away, moving into the kitchen.
I walk through the family room and stop at the glass door.
Dean is sitting in a chair, his back to me, while he watches Carsen run around in the yard.
“Good morning,” I say, stepping outside.
Dean glances over his shoulder at me. “I should’ve known you’d show up when we’re having ice cream for breakfast.”
“Yes. Shame on you for not anticipating this.” I pull up a chair and sit beside him, stretching my legs out. I wait three seconds. Four. “Good morning to you too, Felix.”
Mouth twitching, he sips his coffee, the steam disappearing into his graying mustache. “Good morning, Felix.”
“I missed you last night at the meeting.”
“That piece I was working on ran late. I didn’t close up until after ten.”
“I know. Just wanted you to know I missed you.”
“But you still went. That’s what matters.”
“I missed you too, Felix.”
“I’m not saying that.”
“It’s okay. We both know you’re thinking it.”
Dean sighs, shaking his head. “Sometimes I forget how young you are, and then you speak.”
“You love me.”
“I tolerate you.”
“You love me as much as you love Carsen.”
“Not even close.”
“You would weep at my funeral.”
The mug Dean’s lifting pauses an inch away from his mouth. “If I say I missed you, will you move on from this?”
“Yep.”
“I missed you too, Felix.”
“Aw.” I beam at him, making him laugh.
“I do care for you,” he says, so quietly, I almost think I’m hearing things.
I feel my face flush. “I know.”
The door opens behind us and Maria steps outside, offering me my own mug. “Seven sugars and extra cream, right, sweetheart?”
“I’m so in love with you. Seriously,” I tell her, taking a sip. I hum as the heat warms my throat. “It’s perfect.”
“Seven sugars,” Dean mumbles. “How do you not have diabetes?”
“Huh?” I ask.
“Carsen!” Maria calls out. “Come help me for a minute please. I need you to taste test the bacon.”
“Okay!” Carsen high fives me as he runs past and follows Maria inside the house.
“He’s getting big,” I say.
“Gonna be three next month.”
“I didn’t just come over here for breakfast.”
“Is that right.” Dean smirks.
I sit up straight. “You knew that already?”
“I know you pretty damn well, Felix. And I’m guessing whatever you came here to talk to me about, has to do with that guy you’re sponsoring.”
“How do you know it has to do with Jake?”
“Because you always bring him up whenever we’re together. Usually only takes you a minute.”
“I do not.”
Actually, I think I do.
But he’s just so… everything.
“You haven’t mentioned him yet, so I’m assuming something happened.”
“Like…”
Oh, how cool would it be if Dean guessed what happened with Jake last night and tells me how happy he is to hear about it, and how much he was hoping for it to happen?
That would seriously make my day.
“I don’t know,” he says suspiciously. “Are you not sponsoring him anymore? Did he slip up?”
“No. Nothing like that. He’s amazing.”
“Is he?”
“He’s doing amazing. So great at being sober. Maybe the best at it.” I avoid his stare and look down at my mug. “Um, so hypothetically, let’s say a sponsor wanted to date his sponsee.”
Dean curses under his breath.
“And this sponsor is pretty damn certain his sponsee also wants to date him. Which, like, never fucking happens. This sponsor isn’t lucky like that.”