Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 36975 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36975 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
“I don’t know; I don’t keep tabs on you guys twenty-four seven. He could have been looking for a hookup for all I know. It’s not my business.” Asher’s not that kind of guy. Although, it’s not like we have many conversations. Boomer stops pacing and stands in front of me. “Before all this shit went down, Demi did let something slip. Who is this chick you met?”
“When did she tell you about her?”
He pulls out his phone and says, “She sent out a text about ten minutes before we got the call about Asher.”
“Oh shit.”
“So, who is she?” Boomer asks with a smirk.
“She’s the pianist that we went to see—Andrea Cole.” I can’t fight my own smile because I want to see her again.
“Interesting. So is she the one? Or is it too soon to tell?”
“She’s the one. No damn doubt about it. Didn’t you know right away?”
“Yes. I was just curious. I’m sure all the women will look forward to meeting her, and the guys will enjoy ribbing you a bit.”
I growl, knowing they’ll intentionally try to make me jealous. It’s a rite of passage. I take a deep breath. “I’m not like everyone else. I’ll control my caveman tendencies.”
“Okay… we’ll see. Let’s just be glad it’s only me that heard that.”
“I heard it too,” Beast says, coming up from behind me.
“Who are we talking about?”
“Cyber has met the one. Or sort of met her. He got a glimpse of her.”
“Cool. How’s Asher?” We shake hands with him.
“We don’t know yet,” Boomer says.
“Let’s go inside and see,” I say, needing to drop the whole “future wife” subject.
Chapter Two
Andi
The music comes naturally as every note falls effortlessly from my fingers. Tonight was different, though. Of course, it was already a special evening. I got my first spotlight and then so much more. Tonight, I felt as though I was playing for someone else. Just one person. His eyes were on me throughout most of the performance, yet I can’t forget that he was here with someone else. I should completely forget about him.
After all, I can’t date anyone. It’s not right. My life isn’t safe for dating at the present time. Not with him out there, watching, waiting. There are days when I can’t sleep, knowing I’m being watched, followed, stalked, and the cops have been useless. State after state, I’ve been begging and pleading for assistance, to no avail. It’s almost as if they don’t even consider it a real thing. I have to be physically assaulted by him before the police will do anything. By that time, I could be dead.
No. No matter how much I want it, I can’t think about finding anyone who would want me, not even the man who couldn’t keep his eyes off me throughout the performance. Of course, there were plenty of people who never took their eyes off the stage because I was the star of the night, but this was different. His gaze touched me, lingered, burning his mark on my skin and claiming me as his.
I took my bow and looked into the crowd as the show ended, searching for his eyes and hoping they were on me. When I do find them laser-focused on me, I blush profusely. My flushed appearance could be blamed on the hot lights and the exercise of playing for so long, however I know that’s not the case and I suspect he does too.
It’s foolish and wrong because he clearly brought another woman here to see me. Secretly, in the depths of my soul, I hope they’re siblings and it was just a nice family outing or something. However, there aren’t many brothers who take their sisters to things like this. Looking away, I scan the crowd and see the back of a man’s head as he storms through the throng of people, pushing his way out, and my stomach flips. It’s an eerie sense of danger shooting up my spine. Immediately, my need to run and escape is necessary.
I’ve never seen my stalker, but I’ve always gotten the feeling that he’s been to many of my concerts. Politely, I make my way to the dressing room and hide, locking the door before anyone can enter. A moment later, someone is knocking.
“Who is it?” I call out, my voice cracking in the process.
“It’s Bee.” I take a calming breath because it’s only my manager and cousin. Unlocking the door, I open it, and she comes in with a scowl on her face. “What’s going on? You look spooked.”
“It’s nothing.”
She tilts her head and scowls before dropping her purse down onto the chair. “Bullshit, it’s nothing. Sit.” I do what she says and take my seat in front of the dressing table. She steps behind me and starts undoing the pins in my hair, setting them on the table. “Tell me the truth.”