Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
I was wrong.
The towers, the arch of the cables, and the orange, not red color remind me of a graceful dragon sweeping across the water. It’s absolutely beautiful and so much larger than I ever imagined. As we drive onto it, I sit up in my seat and lift my eyes to the towers that seem to go up forever and the huge cables that are so wide I don’t think I could wrap my arms around them.
“Can we walk across the bridge while we’re here?” I ask Roman when we pass a group of people stopped and taking pictures in a smaller lane along the outer edge of the bridge.
“We’ll do whatever you want.”
I look over at him and smile—not that he sees it. His eyes are on the road where they should be, considering traffic is so heavy.
“Jace and his wife live over there.” He points across the bay at a row of houses that curl around the water’s edge.
“Have you been here before?”
“San Francisco?”
“Yeah.”
“A couple of times, but it’s been a few years.” He exits the highway when we reach the end of the bridge, and I stare out the window, trying to soak in every detail.
“What time are we meeting them for dinner?”
“Around seven. They’re coming to us since our hotel has one of the best restaurants around. I told them I would confirm the time once I got us checked in.”
This is the first time he’s told me we’re staying at a hotel. I thought we were meeting his friends, then possibly staying with them, and if I didn’t feel comfortable, we’d find a place to park and sleep in my van.
“Roman,” I whisper, and he looks over at me as he stops at a red light.
“You want me to be happy, right?”
My eyes slide closed as my heart squeezes. “Yes.”
“Then let me take care of you.”
“Okay,” I give in. After our conversation this morning, I won’t deny him anything that makes him happy. Even if that thing makes me a little uncomfortable since I don’t want him to ever think I’m taking advantage of him or his generosity.
It takes us some time to reach the destination set into the GPS, and as soon as we begin to drive down a paved road, I see multiple off-white houses curled around the edge of sweeping hills that act as a backdrop.
My stomach feels weird when we stop in front of the largest building. All the cars around us are brand new and luxurious, with their high-end emblems and shiny paint glittering under the sun. Roman’s car would have fit in among them, but my van sticks out like a sore thumb, and I know that when I get out, I’m going to have the same problem. I don’t fit in with the people walking around, the men in polo shirts and crisp shorts, the women all wearing sundresses and heels.
The moment we come to a stop, a kid who’s no older than seventeen is there to open Roman’s door, and I have to admit it’s impressive that he doesn’t seem taken aback by the state of our vehicle. “Are you staying or dropping off?”
“Staying, under King.” Roman passes him the keys for the van. “And we have a few bags.”
“Cool,” the kid says, smiling and walking off with the keys… and my only means of escape.
Roman looks at me, where I haven’t moved to unbuckle or get out. His brows drag together as he walks around the front of the van to my door before opening it.
“What’s going on?” he asks quietly, leaning across me to unhook my belt.
“Nothing.”
“Elora.”
“It’s nothing,” I repeat with a forced smile, and his eyes narrow on my cheek.
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I just feel a little awkward, but I’m fine.”
“Why would you feel awkward?” he asks, staying in my space and not allowing me room to get out.
“Look at me.” I tug on the edge of my shirt. “I don’t really fit in here.”
“The way you look is permanently etched into my brain, Elora.” He leans back, pulling me with him. My feet land on the pavement, and he curls around me, his mouth lowering to meet mine. When he leans back, he doesn’t go far. “Not one fucking thing is wrong with you.”
Without another word, he takes my hand and walks with me toward the door that a man in a vest and white dress shirt opens for us.
When we step inside the hotel, I look around. From the marble floors to the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, the place screams class and elegance. Everything I’m not. I look up at Roman when he squeezes my hand like he knows what I’m thinking. He doesn’t say a word, but it’s written on his face that I belong with him, and that’s all the reassurance I need to tuck my insecurities away, straighten my shoulders, and walk to the front desk at his side.