Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 160782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 804(@200wpm)___ 643(@250wpm)___ 536(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 804(@200wpm)___ 643(@250wpm)___ 536(@300wpm)
He takes a sip of his drink and nods. It is then I notice that he is still holding my hand across the table. I immediately pull out of his grasp.
He smiles and looks at his outstretched arm on the table and pulls it back slowly. “You are different to most men I have met, Adrian.”
I raise an eyebrow. “How so?”
“You’re very masculine and yet have an inner gentle quality. You’re intensely sexual and yet you don’t sleep around, even though you are one of the best-looking men I have ever met. Your two best friends are straight and yet you are entirely comfortable being gay. You’re very intelligent and portray strength as you run the company and look after your two best friends, but it makes me wonder. When all is done and dusted, who looks after you, Adrian? Who satisfies you sexually…emotionally? Who loves you when you come home from work each night?” His eyes darken and drop to my lips.
I sit back affronted and look at him in horror. Who says that on a first date?
“That’s very deep.” I stammer. “You got all that info on me from dinner six months ago?”
He smiles into his drink. “Perks to being a psychologist.”
I smile as I drain my glass. “My best friend is in love with a psychologist and he reckons it’s the biggest mind fuck in history.”
“Is that Joshua?” I nod and smile. “Is he back with Natasha?” he asks.
“No, but hopefully they will work it out.”
“You have an affection for Natasha?”
I smile. “I adore her. Joshua’s life is crazy, super rich, and yet Natasha is this beautiful pure soul who has loved him since they were kids. They are first cousins and have fought this attraction since they were teenagers. I don’t know two people more in love.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Wow.” He smiles as our meal arrives. “Have you ever been in love Adrian?”
I swallow nervously. “I thought I was once.”
He smiles wistfully and takes a mouthful of food. “Do tell.”
I shrug my shoulders. “It’s quite pathetic when I say it out loud really. I entered my first relationship when I was fifteen and we were together six years. We were madly in love and I wanted to come out, but he didn’t. I couldn’t live my life pretending I was someone that I wasn’t, that he was just my roommate. My parents knew about us so I thought it would be ok but, in the end, it wasn’t, he freaked out and ran. He even hooked up with a girl to prove to the world he was straight. I will never forget the night he came to me crying, to tell me that she was pregnant and that he was going to marry her.” My gut twists at the memory and I take a large gulp of my drink. “And now I have the honor of every time he gets drunk, him calling me and telling me how much he loves me and misses me and that he made the biggest mistake of his life and yet he can do nothing about it because he is now a father of three.” I look around the room in annoyance that he got me to say that out loud. “So, when you ask me have I ever been in love, I tell you if that’s love I want nothing to do with it ever again.”
He looks at me affectionately and grabs my hand over the
table again and I squeeze it in a thankful gesture. I can’t believe I just told him that, I have never told anyone other than Josh and Cam.
“I see.” He nods.
“You?” I ask. Trying to take the spotlight off myself.
He nods and takes a sip of his drink. “I was married,” he says quietly.
Oh shit, that’s right. My stomach drops.
“What happened?” I ask quietly, already knowing the horrible answer.
“He died eight years ago in a snow skiing accident,” he says sadly.
I squeeze his hand again. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “What does that feel like? To love somebody so intensely that you want to marry them?” I ask as I smile.
He shrugs. “Scary I suppose.” He smiles broadly as he puts his elbow on the table and leans on his hand. “You will find out one day. I wouldn’t write yourself off just yet. How old are you anyway?” He frowns.
I smile. “How old are you?” I ask.
“Probably too old for you,” he answers.
I smile. “Without a question.” He smirks. “I’m forty-two.”
“You are old,” I smile. “I’m twenty-seven.”
He smiles warmly at me. “Let’s forget about age and pasts and futures and just enjoy some time getting to know each other while we are both in Sydney. What do you say?”
“I don’t normally hang around with hot middle-aged men.” I smile.
“I don’t usually hang around with blond Americans either so we are even.” He smiles at me with a rather beautiful twinkle in his eye.