Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 130673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 653(@200wpm)___ 523(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 653(@200wpm)___ 523(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
She stretched her hand for me to kiss. I lowered it between us and gave it a stern shake. My smile, however, was blissfully charming.
“Does my reputation precede me?”
“Oh yes. In fact, two years ago, I was on the brink of giving you a call.” She ran the fingertip of her index finger along my chest, and I smoothly changed positions to angle myself backward and escape her touch. I was a master flirter. But I also had no interest whatsoever in more than a few pictures in the Daily Mail crowning me as a new tech mogul.
“I went through a nasty breakup from Tim McFadden,” she explained. McFadden was a rock star. “I needed a PR facelift. A friend of mine who did Broadway at the time—Farah Singh—told me you did a great job for her when she needed a fake wedding date so her parents wouldn’t fix her up with the next-door neighbor.”
“I remember Farah.” It was hard to forget, when she’d paid me $20K for a sex-a-thon weekend in Santorini. “Good girl,” I mused.
“I can be a good girl too. Or bad. Depending on what you’re into.” She pouted sassily, her body almost flush with mine.
I felt the camera lights flashing across my face as the photographers started asking her questions.
“Claire, is this your new beau?”
“Larsen, is there anything you want to share with your fans?”
“Does this mean you and McFadden are done for good this time?”
“Are you planning to download the app? Is there hope for the average Joe?”
This was a trap, I realized. Claire had come here looking for a photo op too, to show her ex she’d moved on. With the industry’s biggest whore—me.
“What I’m into is my fiancée, whom I am tragically in love with.” I gave her a lazy grin. “So I’m afraid you’re both out of luck and options, but I’m happy to help you open an account on App-date if you need someone to tease McFadden with.”
While Claire’s face went from indulgent to furious and she stomped away from me, something depressing occurred to me. I wasn’t lying. I was one hundred percent in love with my Dylan. I needed her like air.
She was it. She was everything. The beginning, the end, the best part of my day. Losing her was my worst fear. She added dimension to my otherwise flat life. With her, I could tackle anything. Without her, nothing was worth doing.
And I loved her. Loved her, loved her, loved her.
I needed to tell her that.
Now.
No, not now. Now would be premature and awkward. I couldn’t tell her over the phone—she’d probably think I was drunk. I needed to tell her as soon as I got home tomorrow. And if she didn’t say it back…well, I had an entire lifetime to make her fall in love with me. I was a stubborn bastard too.
This time, it was three in the morning by the time I checked my phone.
Dylan: Are you still going to be able to make it tomorrow?
Dylan: Totally okay if not. I’ve still got time to ask Row to come with Cal and babysit Grav. Serafina is staying in the UK with the nanny.
Like hell he would. First of all, she was downplaying how much my being there meant to her, and I knew it. Second, I’d rather feast on my own bowels than look like a bad boyfriend in front of Row.
Rhyland: I’ll be there.
Dylan: You really don’t have to.
Rhyland: Why are you still up?
Dylan: I could ask you the same thing…
I peered down at the semi behind my jeans. Touché. The mere thought of her staying up so she could talk to me gave me a chub.
Dylan: I know this weekend is super important to you.
Rhyland: No. You’re super important to me.
She was typing, deleting. Typing, deleting.
Dylan: You’re just saying that bc you want your dick wet before I go to the gig.
I groaned. Dylan still struggled with words of affirmation when they weren’t directed at her kid. But I wasn’t gonna take the L. I’d wear her out. I’d make her as obsessed with me as I was with her.
Rhyland: And? Is it working?
Dylan: Yes.
Rhyland: Good night. See you tomorrow, Cosmos.
Dylan: See you tomorrow <3
DYLAN
Dylan: Hey! Are you on your way?
Dylan: I tried to call but it threw me to voicemail.
I stared at the unanswered messages, willing myself not to freak out. Cal and Gravity were sitting at the dining table making friendship bracelets and drinking hot cocoa, even though it was a thousand degrees outside.
We had to leave in about three hours. Every instinct in my body told me to brace myself for the worst. That he was going to disappoint me, break my heart, never show up. After all, that was what happened last time Tucker went on a fishing boat. He never returned home. Decided he was better off without me.