Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 109038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
After we clean off, I find Chase watching that video of me on repeat on his phone.
I grin at him, giving him an upward nod.
“You just came and you still want to watch that?”
“Of fucking course I do. Look at you.”
I laugh, grabbing the TV remote. “Do you want to watch Yard Line for the first time, or not? We can put on that horror series you like if you’d rather watch that.”
“No way,” he says, finally plopping down his phone. “I want to do it.”
He cuddles up next to me.
While we watch the show, I don’t expect much. I know he isn’t into sports, and he hasn’t watched any of Yard Line yet because he’s had bad associations with football in his life.
Months and months ago, he told me he was ready to watch it.
But I always waved it off.
I didn’t want him to have any negative associations with me in his head, even if it was just through me portraying a character.
We watch through the first episode, though, and he’s periodically gripping my forearm, dropping his jaw.
“You’re so fucking good at this,” he says after it finishes. “Like, you’re a genius.”
“Oh, give me a break.”
“No. This isn’t a fucking sports show. This is a beautiful story about a man’s life, and I’m only on episode 1. Calling this a sports show is like calling Breaking Bad a meth show.”
“I mean, it kind of is,” I joke.
“Except it’s a thousand times deeper and more complex than that. This was great, Logan.”
I kiss his hair.
“I’m going to cut up some fresh mango,” I tell him. “Want anything to drink?”
“All good, baby. I’m still drinking in your incredible acting.”
Before I get up to go to the kitchen I check my phone really quick.
And a message from Emily catches my eye.
Emily
WOW, Logan. Did you see the email? Williamson and Kone are a go!!!!
“Holy shit,” I murmur out loud.
Chase looks up. “Yes?”
I can’t contain myself. “It’s fucking happening,” I say, smiling wide and tackling Chase back onto the couch. “I got cast as the lead in that Broadway play.”
Chase buries his head against my chest and lets out a little scream. “You’re coming to New York?”
“For at least a year, permanently,” I tell him.
“No more red-eye flights.”
I just finished filming season 3 of Yard Line, and I have a whole year off before it shoots again. Until then, I’ll be on a Broadway run.
“No more scheduling every scrap and shred of time we can see each other in between projects. Holy shit, Chase, I feel like I could cry.”
“I get to have you near me whenever I want,” he says, clutching at my skin. “Say goodbye to your cock, because it’s mine now.”
“You know what this means?” I ask him. “I’m finally going to do it. I’m going to buy a real apartment in New York. I’m tired of hotel hopping every time I come, even though they’re all gorgeous places. Fuck, this is incredible.”
Chase is smiling wide, and I swear his dimples alone could make my heart burst.
The rest of the night is simple.
Chase and I share fresh fruit, watch a little bit more of my show, and then he insists on giving me a lazy blowjob by the pool outside a few hours later, under the stars.
But after a lifetime of constantly seeking the right things to do, or say, or think, I know now that it was all completely unnecessary.
Because none of this would have been “right,” on paper.
But it’s perfect. It’s the energy I need, and a depth of love that I didn’t know existed.
When he smiles, or kisses me, or makes me come for no reason at all, I think of all the empty spaces he found in me. The parts I’d been pretending didn’t exist.
I love him when he’s having bad days or good ones. I love being there to hold him, to touch him, when everything in his mind feels completely scattered in the wind.
“I love you,” he tells me in bed right before sleep.
He smells like him. I don’t know how his hair has magical properties of always smelling that good, but I’m not going to question it.
I bring him close to me, burying my nose in his hair.
“I love you so much. And you know you’re getting a key to my New York apartment, right?”
I cherish every part of the excitement I see in his eyes as he looks up at me, in the pale light coming through my bedroom windows.
“Yeah? You like me that much, huh?” he says. “I swear you’re getting a crush on me, Logan Stone.”
I kiss his temple, softly and slowly. “Want to know a secret? I’ve sort of had a crush on you since the moment I laid eyes on you. And now my crush is all-consuming. You know I had a dream the other night where I was just trying to think of different ways to make you laugh?”