Pretty Wild (Boys in Makeup #3) Read Online Riley Hart, Christina Lee

Categories Genre: M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: , Series: Boys in Makeup Series by Riley Hart
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Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
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There was nothing on his page about gymnastics. Had he continued somewhere else? Stopped when he’d disappeared from the studio we’d gone to? Hell, I didn’t go anymore and I loved it, so what did I expect from him? When I was younger, I dreamed of going to the Olympics. That didn’t happen, obviously. Outside of that, I wasn’t sure what I wanted. I was happy where I was. And why was I obsessing about all this shit simply because I’d messaged with Clark?

My phone buzzed with a text from a number I didn’t recognize. Sorry. Business call. How about lunch at 1 tomorrow? Oh, and this is Clark.

I smiled. Looking forward to it.

Chinese? I remember you used to love Mar Far chicken. You’d talk about going for dinner after lessons. Hey, did you know that’s an Oregon thing? They don’t have it in other states.

No, I hadn’t known that, but I did think it was cute he remembered I liked it. Bet you’ve done a lot of traveling, huh? I found myself asking, which led to us texting back and forth all night.

4

Clark

Holy shit, I was nervous. Why was I so nervous?

I’d looked in the mirror a dozen times, wondering if what I was wearing was too fancy for Skylar. Which of course was ridiculous because this was just me and how I dressed, but him bringing up that nickname had thrown me into a tailspin and sent me down memory lane.

I stared at my dark-wash jeans, button-up shirt, the sleeves rolled to the elbows, and a nice pair of leather loafers. At least I’d changed out of the suit and tie that was standard for me when I had meetings or was showing an expensive property. It was important to look the part, my dad always said. And he was mostly right. People noticed how you presented yourself, especially in the business world. But it also meant that first impressions could be way off base and pretty superficial.

Okay, this was surreal. I had mostly put Skylar Davison out of my mind because that time in my life was painful to think about. It’d been a vulnerable period, as I was on the cusp of figuring myself out in the midst of middle school and raging hormones. Gymnastics had been my escape, though I’d never confessed that to my parents. I’d just been happy they finally signed me up for something I desperately wanted to do.

And then there was Skylar. He was likely my first crush, not only because he was so darned cute—with that dark-brown hair that would flop over his forehead and those deep brown, probing eyes that always sought me out—but also because despite being more advanced in the sport, he would always spend extra time with me and make me feel like I mattered. He was supposed to help all the kids in class, so I would brim with anticipation until he got to me. While he helped teach and spot me, we’d talk about anything and everything, and I wanted so much to spend time with him outside of gymnastics. But it never happened.

I could only assume my mom got wind of something between us—at least from my end. It was before I was out, before they couldn’t avoid the subject any longer. I had finally said the words aloud my junior year of high school, and of course they’d already had their suspicions. To their credit, they fully accepted me, but they still tried to steer my decisions. They wanted me to have the best experiences without the worry of stigma, and I got it. Being gay in a hetero world wasn’t something anyone would willingly choose.

I took the elevator to the parking garage, slid into my car, and punched the address into the GPS, still thinking about how much I’d looked forward to gymnastics and my friendship with Skylar. I knew Mom looked down her nose at them, particularly when Skylar’s mom picked him up wearing a too-tight blouse or shorter skirt than Mom approved of. Though she was perfectly polite to her face, behind her back she’d sometimes gossip with other parents, which embarrassed the hell out of me.

However, like most activities kids were involved in, gymnastics was bound to end anyway, but my leaving had been abrupt, and I’d wondered about Skylar over the years. And not only because he was good at the sport—really good—especially when it was put to music during floor exercises. And now that I knew he worked at the Playground as a dancer, I’d be more than curious to see him in action.

My stomach was full of swooping butterflies when I walked inside the restaurant. I spotted Skylar instantly, having gone through his social media that morning to get an idea of what he currently looked like. And he was essentially the same. Pouty lips, mischievous eyes, free spirit. Unabashedly himself, and it made me smile like it did when I was a kid.



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