Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63741 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63741 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
“Yes, I’ve closed everything out for the day.” I started the end-of-day procedure a few minutes ago, so all that’s left is to power down my devices, put my tablet in my purse, and set the alarm as we go out.
The bar is just a block away, making it an easy walk even though the weather is chilly. Temperatures drop quickly here after the sun goes down, at least in the wintertime. Zeb holds the door for me when we get there, and we all go in.
It’s an upscale bar, but not unwelcoming. The atmosphere is quiet and friendly, definitely not the place for noisy revelry. I hope it helps me keep my emotional distance when I’m surrounded by the three of them.
Eyes follow us as we cross the room to a leather-upholstered booth. I’m very aware of the picture we present, little me with three huge men in tow. Unbidden, my mind veers toward Lexy and Ava, and what it’s like when they go places with their men.
My skin heats, and I’m thankful for the low lighting. Me with these men can never happen, for so many reasons, and for the sake of my future, I need to keep a grip on myself.
Of course, the men let me sit down first, which means I’m trapped after Frank slides in next to me, Griffin and Zeb opposite us. Both of them look at Frank like he’s done something wrong, which confuses me, but I let it go. With the three of them sharing a house, they’ll have all sorts of interpersonal dynamics that don’t make sense to others.
“What’ll you have?” Zeb asks me. Griffin turns his head to glare at him, and I feel a tremor of alarm.
The sudden tension I’m sensing can’t possibly be about me. Can it?
No. Lexy can’t be right, because if she is, my life is going to become completely unmanageable.
“Let me look at the menu,” I say, keeping my tone light. “And I’ll be buying my own drinks, but thank you.”
“Come on, Ember,” Griffin says. “We can’t buy you a drink?”
“It’s sweet of you to offer, really—”
“Sweet,” Griffin snorts, sounding more out of sorts than his personality usually allows.
“—but it’s not necessary.”
“Not necessary,” Zeb repeats to Griffin, with an undertone that signals he means more than just the words.
“And what would you know about it?” Griffin fires back.
“More than you.” Zeb sounds both surly and smug.
Maybe this isn’t about me, but it sure feels like it is, and I’m suddenly very uncomfortable. “Actually, I’m going to head home,” I say, closing my menu. “I just remembered the buses on this route don’t run at night, and I don’t want to miss the last one. You all have a good time.”
Frank stands to let me out. His expression is even sterner than usual, and it seems to be aimed at both Griffin and Zeb. “See you tomorrow,” I say, eager to escape the storm clouds gathering around the men.
“Where’s the nearest bus stop?” Frank asks. “You should let us walk you. Or we could give you a lift.”
His tone is neutral, nothing like Griffin’s constant flirtiness, but I still feel like there’s more to what he’s saying. Maybe spending all day with just the three of them is making me paranoid.
“The bus stop is actually right outside,” I tell him. “I appreciate it, but I’m fine, really.” I smile at him, and at Griffin and Zeb—both of whom wear somewhat stony expressions—and make for the door.
I’m in luck; the right bus pulls up just as I leave the bar, and I hurry to catch it, thankful that I won’t have to wait in the cold and worry about whether any of the men are going to come out and check on me or ask me again about them giving me a ride.
Things have been fine at work, as far as I’ve noticed, but as soon as we stepped into the bar, the energy between the three of them shifted in a very weird way. Maybe they’re having some kind of disagreement and I just happened to get caught in the center of it, but something tells me it goes deeper than that.
FRANK
“What the fuck was that?” I demand as soon as I sit back down.
Zeb looks toward the opposite wall, ignoring me, while Griffin acts like I’m only directing my question at Zeb, even though he knows damn well they were both out of line.
“You can’t even let the girl order a fucking drink?” I scowl at them, wondering if I should follow Ember out, or if that would only make things worse.
Everything about our new location is great. The commute is shorter; it’s quieter and easier to focus on my artwork; there are no fans coming in looking for selfies or autographs like there are at the main location; there’s just the three of us and Ember.