Total pages in book: 191
Estimated words: 182070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 182070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
Zac was going to rent his own room… to go with us to a quinceañera.
Zac Travis was going to a fifteen-year-old’s party.
“You sure you want to do this?” I asked for about the tenth time as we walked from the car toward the entrance to the hotel. He’d parked in literally the furthest spot away from the entrance. His reasoning was because he didn’t want anyone to park close to him.
Zac huffed, pulling his suitcase along. He’d tried to take mine too, but I’d taken it from him. “Kiddo, how many times have I been around your family?”
“A lot. But that was back in the day, before you turned into Mr. Hot Shit,” I explained, pulling my suitcase along too.
He grunted. “I’m not exactly on a team right now.”
“So?” I didn’t need to egg him on into feeling bad for himself. He could do that pretty well on his own. “For now. It doesn’t mean you’re not still Mr. Hot Shit to some people.”
I just happened to glance over and see a little smile crack his face. “But not to you?”
“Nah.” I elbowed him. “But on a serious note, I’m worried you’re going to get harassed. Did you tell Boogie you’re coming? And are you sure you don’t want to go stay at Paw-Paw’s instead?”
He elbowed me back, lightly. “I told him. He offered to let me crash on his couch, but….”
“How the hell could you sleep on his couch? He has that dumb short one he bought because he liked the way it looked.”
“I haven’t seen it.”
“Well, you’re not missing out. I slept on it one night and woke up the next morning with shoulder and back pain. You’d probably need a realignment afterward.” I nudged him again. “You know? Because you’re old?”
That got him to look at me. “I get it. And, yeah, there’s no point in stayin’ at Paw-Paw’s because they’re all in Lubbock for the weekend. Mama’s gonna kill me for not tellin’ her ’til the last minute I was comin’, but it’s fine.”
She probably would kill him for it. He’d told me he tried going back home once a month, if he wasn’t staying there with them long-term during the off-season. I was sure he had to be at least a little disappointed his family wasn’t in town, but I hadn’t thought about inviting him because… well, he probably had things to do. He hadn’t said anything else about the White Oaks, and I hadn’t had the heart to bring it up.
“Why aren’t you staying with family anyway?” he asked. “I remember that one time we went to Corpus Christi with Mama Lupe and she stuffed eight of us in one room, ’member that?”
I laughed. “No one invited us, and no, I don’t remember that. Did Boogie have to spoon you all night on the floor?”
“Only half the night.”
I snorted. “Well, if you change your mind and don’t want to see everyone, run. I told Connie you were coming, but that’s it.”
It was his turn to laugh right as we hit the sliding doors to the lobby.
“You know what? Do you want me to book your room under my name? You famous people usually do that, don’t you? So your fans don’t know where you’re staying?”
“Us famous people? Cut it out,” he groaned. “But yeah, that’s what’s… done. Or you get your assistant to book it, or your manager’s assistant.”
“So see? Give me your credit card.”
Zac slid me a look as he reached behind him with his free hand and pulled out his wallet—a crisp newish looking navy blue one—and bopped me on the top of my head with it before I plucked it out of his hand. Then I tried to wave him away. “Beat it, kid, otherwise it’ll defeat the purpose if someone recognizes you.”
His eyebrows went up at the same time as a grin spread across his mouth. “Beat it?”
“Scram? Skedaddle?”
This fool laughed.
“Go. Don’t show anybody your face. I don’t need you getting kidnapped.”
He booped me on the nose before taking a step back and grabbing my suitcase to take with him.
It only took a second to check in with my reservation and a second more to get another room two down from the one I’d be sharing with Connie and the kids. With four different keys in hand, I trudged toward Zac and handed him his. “Here you go. It’s on the same floor as ours, just a couple doors down.”
“LITTLE B!”
My shoulders dropped, and I turned slowly around, excited and irritated at the same time. Then again that pretty much described my relationship with Connie completely. I couldn’t live with her, and I couldn’t live without her.
One glance toward the door had me finding my big sister hauling ass through the sliding glass doors in what had to be five-inch heels like she was trying to win a gold medal. Connie could run faster in heels than flat-footed, that was a fact. An impressive one too. At least I thought so.