Breathless (Less Is More Book 1)

  Breathless

  J.M. LAMP

  Copyright © 2017 by Joseph Lamp

  All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Book and Cover design by Joseph Lamp

  ISBN: 9781521338759

  First Edition: May 2017

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Chapters:

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  To everyone out

  there who is still waiting for

  their love story, it will be written eventually.

  Chapter One

  Elliot

  W HEN YOU PLAY wingman for your best friend on a double date, and said friend only wants to have sex with the guy he is on the date with, the guy that ends up sitting across from you is always a real winner.

  “Paul didn’t tell me you were so damn cute, Elliot,” Ricky says, twirling his straw around his lips. “I mean, honestly, you must really reel in the hotties.” He throws his scarf over his right shoulder and tilts his head with a smile.

  There are many types of gays in the world and Ricky is the exact opposite of what I’m attracted to. Ethan knows this.

  “I do OK,” I say, looking to the waitress bringing over our food. He leans his chin into his palm and expects more, I think, but he gets nothing else and looks around the room.

  Ethan gets back from the bathroom and sits back down next to me. “I miss anything?” he asks, smiling at Paul.

  “I was just telling Elliot that Paul didn’t give him enough credit,” Ricky says.

  “Well,” I say, leaning on my elbows and dragging my hands through my hair, “Paul also has not met me or even seen a picture of me before tonight, so it would’ve been quite hard for him to give you any information at all about me.” Ethan kicks me under the table and I excuse myself outside for a minute.

  The air feels nice and I don’t feel as suffocated as I did inside. I hate going and doing this shit for Ethan. He knows I do, too, so the least he could do is pair me up with a guy who is remotely like me; I wear scarves, but I don’t throw them over my shoulder like I’m walking down the runway, and I don’t twirl my straw around my lips like I’m sucking on the tip of some guys cock.

  I’m sure Ricky is a nice guy, but too nice to know that Ethan is just after his friends dick.

  I walk back into Gregor’s Pub and sit back down.

  “Needed a quick smoke,” I say. I don’t smoke, but the lie works and everyone smiles.

  The food is here shortly after and before anyone even says anything, I start plowing my face to the point where I couldn’t speak even if I wanted to.

  “Taste good, El?” Ethan asks, glaring over at me like I’m a kid at McDonalds making a scene because I didn’t get the toy I wanted.

  “Yeah,” I say with my mouth full. I look over at Ricky and he looks uncomfortable, but still smiles. I try to make the best out of the situation and say, “So, what do you do, Ricky?”

  “I cut hair,” he says. “Well, I make miracles happen really. Some of the people that come in there. Just wow.”

  “A haircut does make the man,” Ethan says, smiling again at Paul.

  Paul doesn’t talk much. Actually, Paul doesn’t talk at all and all Ethan has done is ask me questions and smile like a rabid-dog at Paul the whole night.

  “So what do you do, Paul?” I ask. Paul’s eyes widen like a terrified newborn kitten and he just shrugs his shoulders and awkwardly smiles at Ethan. Ethan says nothing in response and continues to smile at Paul. I feel like I’ve just watched Frankenstein’s monster come alive for the first time except this monster is really attractive and doesn’t have bolts in his neck.

  “Ethan,” I say, “can I see you outside for a minute?” Ethan lets out a heavy sigh and meets me outside a few minutes later.

  “Look,” he says, “I know you are probably pissed at me right now, but just like another half hour and I’ll have him locked in.”

  “Ethan,” I say, confused, “I’m pretty sure the guy is retarded.”

  “Yeah,” he says, “maybe, but look at him. I mean, at least God blessed him with his looks. And Ricky is cool too. You guys seem to be hitting it off.” I raise my eyebrows and look up at the sky trying to find a clue to give to him. “Okay, so maybe not, but just another half hour I swear and then you can be done.”

  Ethan walks back into the bar and I look back up at the sky, thinking of things I will demand of him tomorrow after he is properly satisfied by the box-of-rocks sitting across from him.

  I finish off my burger and play around with my fries. Gregor’s always has the best food; Ethan at least picks good places to have these dates of his. It would be nice if it wasn’t a place that we frequently go to together with our friends, though, because then I’m forced to remember great nights like these.

  “How about you, Elliot?” Ricky asks me. “What do you do?”

  “I work at a publishing house,” I say. “ProjectSimpleton. It’s been around for a good while now. I’ve worked there since my junior year in college.”

  His smile widens and he says, “It’s so hot when a guy is intelligent. I mean, I despise reading and books in general, but I love when other people do it.” I stare at him blankly, but his smile doesn’t waver.

  “Yeah,” I say, looking around for our waitress. “I like a guy that is intelligent, too. I really like a guy that cracks open a book once in a while.” Ricky’s smile slowly leaves his face and I think I’ve made him uncomfortable finally to the point where he’s lost interest. I look down at my watch and see that Ethan has five minutes left and then his half hour is up.

  “My last boyfriend was intelligent,” Ricky says. “He was a bottom, too, so it would’ve never worked anyway.”

  “You’re a bottom I’m assuming,” I say.

  “One of the best,” he says, winking and finishing off the last gulp of his water.

  “Well damn,” I say. “I am too sadly.” I lie because I know his interest will fall fast and it works.

  “We are all bottoms at heart,” Ethan says, winking at Paul.

  Three minutes left.

  The waitress brings over our checks and I see that she put Ethan and I’s on the same one.

  “I forgot my wallet, friend,” I say, looking over to Ethan. He knows I’m lying, but he doesn’t want to make a scene. “No problem, buddy,” he says. “I don’t mind doing favors for others.”

  He looks at Paul who lays out a hundred-dollar bill for his ten-dollar meal. Stupid and rich: exactly what Ethan looks for in a partner.

  “Well this was nice,” Ethan says, grinning from ear to ear. “Paul, would you mind walking me home?” Paul grins and gets up from the table, grabbing Ethan’s shoulder.

  “It was
nice meeting you, Elliot,” Ricky says. “Sorry, but I just can’t date someone like me. It’s exhausting really.” I get up and search through my wallet for some extra ones to leave for a tip. I also try to process the fact that Ricky thinks I’m like him in any way, shape or form.

  “Yeah, you too. We are just to similar I think.” I shrug my shoulders and shake his hand. He flips his scarf over his shoulder again and struts down the walkway towards the door. I roll my eyes and throw some ones on the table for the tip.

  “That was brutal to even watch,” I hear to my left, as I make my way toward the door as well. It is Hadley, Ethan’s sister and my confidant in all aspects of life.

  Hadley is a little under six foot tall with fiery-red hair and a perfectly symmetrical rack.

  “I didn’t even see you there,” I say, giving her a hug. I sit down on the barstool next to her, and say, “You just get off or something?”

  “Like an hour ago,” she says. “I’ve been watching you. You’ve looked like you were going to die from boredom since I got here.”

  “Thank you for rescuing me, bitch.”

  “And distract you from that princess you were sitting across from?” she says, throwing her hair over her shoulder. “I wouldn’t dare. Cute scarf, though. I should’ve asked him where he got it.”

  “He loved me until I lied and told him I was a bottom.”

  “But you are rarely a bottom, right? God, it’s sad that I know what role you prefer.”

  “I know,” I say, resting my head on my hand, “but that was literally the only way I knew to get him to lose interest and not ask me to go home with him. Also have you had a cock in your ass recently? Doesn’t always feel amazing, so yes, I would much rather take the opposite role.”

  “You gays and your craving for the cock,” she grins, tipping her beer back. “You’re too picky, El.”

  “I’m not picky,” I say. “I just don’t ‘crave the cock’ as you put it.”

  “If you say so,” she says, letting out a heavy sigh and looking over her shoulder.

  “What?” I ask, already knowing what comes next.

  “You know what,” she says. “It’s been over a year.”

  “This isn’t about Drew.”

  “It’s always about Drew and you know it.”

  Drew and I had been together for three years and out of nowhere, he broke up with me for no reason besides that he couldn’t do it anymore. I would’ve been satisfied with the fact except he uprooted his life to go live back home in Indianna this past year and I haven’t heard from him once since then. Plus, when he broke up with me, he could barely speak and was crying hysterically which made it even more confusing.

  “You’re thinking about him right now, aren’t you?”

  “Only because you just brought him up,” I say. “I did hear he was back in town.” Hadley’s eyes wander and dart away as soon as they make eye contact with mine. “What is it?”

  “I ran into him a couple days ago at the grocery store,” she says. “It was awkward and I wasn’t going to tell you because we only said a quick hey and then I hurried off.” My stomach drops a little and all I can do is nod. “I can’t look at him the same after he just left you hanging the way he did. Such a prick.”

  “Oh well,” I say. “I’m pretty tired so I’m going to walk back to the apartment. I hope Ethan’s enjoying himself.”

  “Elliot,” she says, “I didn’t mean—“

  “You’re fine,” I say, kissing her cheek. “I really am just tired. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” She nods with a smile and I make my way out of the pub.

  My apartment is three blocks east of the pub, but I take the longer route so I can stop and sit by the water on my way back. The bridge sits just north of the bench I like to sit at and the mixture of the sound of light traffic and the fish kicking in the water at night always calms me and makes me feel at peace.

  Like most nights, no one is around except for a few couples walking by to go to the diner open twenty-four hours just a few blocks past the bridge. No one walks down this street unless they are planning on going to the diner.

  I sit down and lean my head up towards the sky. There aren’t a lot of stars because the city is right across the bridge, but if I angle it just right, I can make out a few and see planes passing by that are entering and leaving the city.

  Drew being back in town does bother me. Three years is a long time to just up and leave when everything was perfectly fine. Well, things weren’t perfectly fine in reality. We were losing interest in each other and I honestly got to the point where I was just living with him day to day. But the fact that he just up and left still hurts.

  He has no social media, so I couldn’t creep on him or see if something did happen. I was left in the dark and still haven’t found a good way out of it. Him being back only leaves me with more questions and I hate the fact because even though I don’t want him back, I still want to know what exactly happened.

  “I thought I was the only one who came here to think,” I hear to my right. His voice brings me out of my thoughts and I’m relieved that Drew leaves my mind.

  “I’m usually here later in the evening,” I say. “After midnight.”

  The stranger sits down on the bench at the other end. The city lights make his features shine in the dark and I take in every detail of him. His hair is jet black and he is wearing a fitted vest over his silver button-up. His whole outfit is fitted to the point where I could probably make out the lining of his underwear if he stood back up and turned around.

  “Sorry,” he says. “I’m probably invading on your you time or something.” He laughs and runs his fingers through his hair.

  “No,” I say, “you’re fine. Kind of relieved you came when you did, honestly.”

  “Because you’ve been waiting for your next kill or…”

  “Definitely,” I say, laughing. “Nothing like a good looking guy to get my knife out of its holder.”

  “Good looking, huh?” he says.

  “Shit,” I say, “sorry. I forget that not everyone is a homo. If you hate the gays then let me get a good five seconds to run first.”

  He laughs and puts his hands behind his head. “Not everyone, true. Some of us are, though.” He winks at me from the side and it sends a shock through me. Could the night actually be getting better?

  “My name is Will, by the way,” he says, as he lets out his left hand, still resting the right behind his head.

  “Elliot,’ I say, returning the gesture. My eyes wander from his face to the city lights again.

  “Amazing view, isn’t it?” he says. “This is honestly one of the only places I can come and truly let my mind escape me.” He lets out a deep breath and closes his eyes.

  “Rough night?” I ask, turning to my side on the bench.

  “Rough week,” he says. “I’m a professor at an off branch of the college here. This fall semester has just been exhausting. If I have to read one more paper this week about why boyfriends cheat or why technology is a godsend, I will probably quit.”

  “You don’t agree that technology is a godsend?”

  He looks at me, smiles and turns his body sideways. “Not when the paper is about the great impact it has had on filtering your selfies and letting you befriend makeup artists on Instagram. I don’t understand some of the younger generation or why all of these kids are going to college in the first place. I mean, I’m not that old, but still.”

  “She sounds like she is going places,” I say, leaning on the backside of the bench.

  “Oh, he will go far I’m sure.” He laughs and leans his head up towards the stars. “So, how about you, Elliot? What do you do to make this world a better place one idiot at a time?”

  “I’m an editor at ProjectSimpleton. It’s a publishing—“

  “Publishing house,” he interjects. “Yeah, I have a colleague that has worked with you guys for one of her books. Marcia Avery?”

  “We love Marcia,” I say with a tad t
oo much excitement. “I love her work and she has made the business a pretty penny.”

  “How long have you been working there?

  “Six almost seven years now,” I say. “Started my junior year in college. How long have you been teaching?”

  “Six, actually,” he says. “I started as I was going through the process of my masters and it stuck. I was good at teaching and English was my favorite thing to learn, so I thought, why not?”

  “Not your dream job, I’m guessing?”

  “Don’t get me wrong,” he says, “I do love it. I love when a student actually gets the stuff I’m teaching and when I have that one person in the class who really shines because they love the subject matter so much. That never happens anymore, though. Today’s youth just doesn’t care as much; they are there because they’re told it’s the only way to be successful.”

  “Maybe you just don’t have the drive you had before?” As soon as I say it, I know it might offend him. I get too personal and comfortable too quick and I say whatever feels right. “Sorry, I didn’t—“

  “No,” he says, nodding, “you’re right. I mean, a lot of things have made me not love it as much anymore, but I mostly just don’t strive to teach anymore, sadly.” I look over at the bridge and see flashing lights; there must’ve been a wreck.

  “That looks bad,” he says.

  “I’m sure there is worse that has happened tonight in that big, beautiful city over there.”

  “Probably,” he laughs. “I’m sure a few unsuspecting people were murdered while sitting on a bench with a total stranger tonight.”

  When Will laughs, his smile widens and he shows his perfectly formed, beautiful teeth in the process. Everything about him is nice, I realize, as I slowly take in a new detail every other second. His jawline wide and masculine and his eyes are perfectly symmetrical with the width of his nose.

  “Is there something on my face?” he says, wiping his palm across his cheeks.

  I laugh and can feel the redness in my cheeks and say, “No. You’re just nice to look at.”