Total pages in book: 13
Estimated words: 12091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 60(@200wpm)___ 48(@250wpm)___ 40(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 12091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 60(@200wpm)___ 48(@250wpm)___ 40(@300wpm)
I can hear him scoot closer. “What kind of DMs?”
God, what kind haven’t I gotten? “I’m sure you can use your imagination.”
“Dick pics?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Do you return the favor?”
“Hell no. That stuff is forever.”
“No kidding.” I have a feeling there’s a story there. But before I can ask, he says, “Why not go to cooking school or work in a restaurant?”
“Good question. For one, I’m just an amateur cook, and second, I’m afraid if I do it for a living, I’ll lose the passion. Sort of like my current job situation, not that I ever had any passion for it to begin with.”
“Guess you won’t know unless you try. Sometimes mixing your passion with work is a good thing.”
He’s obviously referring to his own career. “So it’s a good thing for you?”
“Absolutely. I mean, it has its drawbacks.” He mutters, “Not being out, for one.”
“No doubt you have plenty of admirers too,” I point out. “How do you handle it?”
“It can be challenging. Teammates hooking up left and right with female fans. I flirt, but that’s the extent of it.”
“That would be tough.” I frown, considering the likely similarities between our co-workers, mine just happen to wear suits and ties all day. “I’m out at work, but I don’t really care what those idiots think. That said, I understand your dilemma in a sport that sounds homophobic, but is also very public.”
Plus, his salary is well above my pay grade. And that only makes me wonder how decked out his kitchen is. Or his bedroom, for that matter.
My gaze springs to the ceiling. “Hey, did you hear that?”
“What?”
“I think… I swear I heard something.” I stand up and find the elevator doors. “Help!”
When we’re met with silence, I scramble to think of a different way. “Can you lift me up? Maybe being closer will help.”
“Good idea.” I hear the squeak of his sneakers as he shifts closer. “I can definitely try.”
Now we’re standing nose to nose, and I can feel his breaths puffing against my lips.
“How should we do this?” he asks, a little breathless.
“Maybe, um, you grab onto me and lift me as high as you can? I can use your thighs for leverage if you bend your knees a little.”
“Sounds good.” He fumbles with something. “Let me use my flashlight again so we can see what the hell we’re doing.”
I blink as the elevator is dimly illuminated again, momentarily throwing me off. He sets the phone on the ground, the beam of light shining up at us.
“Wait, when did you take your shirt off?” I ask.
“Oh, a few minutes ago, the heat… and I figured since you did I… I can put it back on if it makes you uncomf—”
“No need.”
His eyes briefly travel down the front of me, and I almost want to cover my chest with my arm, wondering what he sees. He’s the picture of athleticism with his chiseled abs and defined hip ridges that disappear under his waistband. I’m lean, but certainly lacking any sort of muscularity. But if he’s underwhelmed, he doesn’t show it. Instead, his gaze travels up to my mouth, lingering there a moment before he says, “Let’s do this.”
I blow out a breath and refocus on getting us out of here.
His hands clamp onto my bare waist, and I try not to focus on how strong and warm they feel. He bends his knees and then lifts me up in the air. I scramble a little trying to get my footing on his thighs. He stays steady, which is impressive, and lessens my worry that he’ll drop me. At least I won’t have far to fall.
My groin is level with his face, though, and I pray to the elevator gods that I don’t plump up. Jesus fucking Christ, focus.
His voice is strained when he asks, “Are you close enough?”
I feel guilty when his arms shake from the exertion. No way I could return the favor with the weight difference between us. “I think if I grab onto the lip, I can lift up a little more.”
I feel a sliver of air filtering in from the misalignment between the floors as he pushes me higher. As soon as I’m able to grasp on to the edge, I yell, “Hello? Anyone there?”
My plea is met with silence.
Goddamnit.
“If anyone is out there, we’re stuck in this elevator!”
That’s when I hear it—another muted voice calling for help, same as us. I don’t know why that hadn’t occurred to me before now. Suppose I was hyper focused on Jace’s wedding and okay, Caleb too. How could I not be? Even now, I can’t ignore how my skin is prickling being this close to him.
“I think there are other people trapped too,” I call down to him.
His breath is labored as he says, “Looks like we’re going to have to wait it out. No doubt the hotel is aware that people are stuck on these elevators.”