Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
“Figured that,” he replied. “And I need an answer.”
“We were kind of friends in high school.” A huge exaggeration considering Killian and I only had a few conversations, most of which weren’t friendly. Well, except for the kiss. That was friendly. No, that was panty melting, heated, and hot as hell.
“Name?” He lowered his voice, “Your real name?”
“Savannah Grady.” There was a subtle flicker of something in his eyes as if he’d heard my name before, but that was highly unlikely considering I hadn’t seen Killian since I was fifteen.
There was a loud ruckus down the hallway, and I glanced over my shoulder. That was when I saw him.
It was like being slammed in the chest with a mallet.
My breath stopped.
My heart thumped.
My belly dropped.
Killian was no longer a kid. He was a man. I mean, I knew that. I’d seen pictures of him, but nothing could’ve prepared me for seeing him in person twenty feet away.
A tingling of familiarity sifted through me then a warm rush of heat.
I stepped back to lean against the wall and used it for support as I stared at him chatting with the blond guitarist, Crisis.
There were men, and then there were men, and the latter were the kind who oozed sexiness. They didn’t have to be attractive physically, although Killian totally was; it was how they carried themselves, how they stood, how they wore their clothes.
It was the unassailable factor. The confidence. The indifference to what others thought of them. And Killian was all of that, just like he’d been in high school, but even more so.
Yep, Killian Kane defined Greek god.
Not perfect. Not gorgeous. Not stunning.
Earthy. Raw. Strong.
Jesus, the pictures didn’t do him justice. Well, they did, but in person, my body totally reacted to him as goose bumps scattered and nerves tingled.
Tattoos covered his muscled forearms and were stark against his white T-shirt. He wore snug jeans and carried his drumsticks in his right hand with a water bottle.
As if he knew I was staring at him, his gaze shifted from Crisis to me, and I was met with Killian Kane’s captivating green eyes.
“You need to leave.” The deep voice barreled into me, and my head snapped around to the security guy.
“But he’s right—”
“Now,” he interrupted. He latched onto my forearm arm and pulled me off the wall. I saw my chance slip away as he led me down the corridor away from the band and Killian.
“Luke.”
My breath hitched as Killian’s voice sifted through me. I’d recognize it anywhere. That Irish accent that was smooth as butter, yet had a distinct firmness.
Luke stopped, and whether I wanted to or not, I did, too. “Kite. I’m getting rid of her.”
Wow, getting rid of? As if I was a piece of garbage he was taking out into the back alley. I stiffened, raising my chin and tried to jerk my arm from him, but he held tight.
Footsteps approached, and I stopped breathing as I watched Killian’s long, lean legs stride toward us. God, it was the same as in high school when he walked down the hallways, that immeasurable confidence in each step.
“Let her go,” he ordered.
Luke’s hand dropped, and I stepped away from the scary security guy.
My eyes flicked to Sculpt, who followed Killian, and then to the other two guys in the band, Ream and Crisis, their eyes on me curiously.
Killian stopped in front of me, and any poise I may have had shot out the top of my head. I was a bowl of jelly as my knees went weak and heart slammed into my ribs.
“Killian,” I managed to whisper.
Eleven years. Eleven years since I’d stood this close to him, heard his voice and breathed in his scent.
“Savvy Grady.” His eyes shifted to my fake ID, and the barbell piercing in his right brow rose. “Or should I say Sara Smith?”
I felt the heat in my cheeks, and since I was fair skinned, heat meant two pink blotches high on my cheeks. Shit. “Uh, well, I didn’t get tickets in time and you weren’t offering backstage passes.”
“So, you made your own.”
It wasn’t a question. “Kind of.” I bit my lip as I glanced nervously at the other guys then back at Killian. “I didn’t make it myself because I have no clue how, but a friend of mine does, and he makes stuff like this all the time for people, but he did it for free since I didn’t have money to come to the concert anyway and….” Oh, my God. Too much information. I was rambling. “Well, I’m going to donate to the charity when I have the money.”
Killian’s mouth twitched and I heard a chuckle from Crisis who was behind him to the right. Ream frowned and Sculpt looked curious, but his body was a brick wall with his wide stance and crossed arms.