Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 91507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Did they know each other?
No.
They’d never known each other. Not really.
“Get out and don’t come back.” Rafe could not allow the madness that was Hopkins Lovette to destroy his plans.
“What?” This time the blond stepped in front of Hopkins. Rafe focused his ire on him.
“I said get out, all of you. You’re fired.”
“Rafe—”
Rafe swung his gaze to Mark, who shut up, then back to the problem. Hopkins had moved around the blond and now pinned Rafe with a determined stare. “Let them stay.”
Even as he crossed to the stage, even as he launched himself up, even as he stalked Hopkins, Rafe knew he was letting his emotions get the best of him. But knowing didn’t mean he could stop.
Having Hopkins at the club could put everything at risk. If Roland ever found out Hopkins was still in the city or that he’d never left to study... If he figured out Rafe had lied to him all those years ago...
Christ. Rafe didn’t even want to think about it.
It could not happen.
He grabbed Hopkins by the shoulders. “Why did you have to come here?”
“You think I wanted to? Get over yourself.”
“Hey, get your fucking hands off him.” Now it wasn’t just the blond coming to Hopkins’s rescue. The entire group pulled Rafe away.
“I’ll leave, but don’t fire them. They don’t deserve to be punished because of me.”
“Fuck that, all for fucking one and one for fucking all. We’re outta this dump.” This came from the one with black hair and a permanent scowl. He tugged on Hopkins’s hand.
“Guys,” Hopkins said. “Don’t throw this away.”
“Listen to Z.” The shortest one wrapped a slender arm around Hopkins’s waist.
“Come on, babe.” As a group they guided a protesting Hopkins away.
Rafe should have been relieved. He should have been levelheaded. He should have, but he wasn’t. There was only a weird empty ache in his gut and the sense he might have made a huge mistake.
“What the hell, Rafe?” Mark finally spoke up as soon as the dancers disappeared.
Suddenly weary, Rafe rubbed a hand down his face. “It’s a long story and I really don’t want to explain right now.”
“Fine, but you know they were perfect for the Prince party, right?”
Yeah, he knew. Jesus.
He knew.
Chapter Five
He was shaking.
Jesus, why the hell did his legs feel like they were made of rubber? For fuck’s sake, it wasn’t the first time he’d faced Rafe. It wasn’t even the first time he’d had Rafe’s hands on him. Though, hell, he didn’t remember them ever heating his skin quite so much. His arms sizzled where Rafe had gripped them.
They hurt in a way that turned his blood to lava. The part of him he was most ashamed of wanted more.
Stupid. Dangerous.
Hop shook those thoughts right out of his head. He was done getting into trouble.
Z and Tam led him backstage. Curious eyes watched them go, those who’d waited for their audition and those who’d likely come running at the first sign of drama. Yep, that was him—a fucking natural disaster. Gather round, everyone. Watch him blow his life apart.
It wasn’t anything new.
Except this time, his friends had become collateral damage.
“Guys, please. I love how you’re being all supportive and shit, but it’s insane to throw away this opportunity because of me.” What kind of person would he be if he let them make such a huge sacrifice?
“Shut up.” Ansel’s voice was so full of affection it caught Hop by surprise. With an attitude as wide as the Atlantic, Ansel wasn’t the type to get mushy.
They made it into the semi-private dressing room and Tam pushed him into a chair. The relief he felt at not having to remain upright was so great, he didn’t argue. Resting his elbows on his knees, Hop hid his face in his hands.
What had he expected from their reunion?
Too bad it wasn’t the conflict that caused his knees to shake. It was the moment before, when their eyes had met and it had felt like everything Hop needed was within reach. Talk about pathetic.
“So, you and Mr. Marson...” Z trailed off.
Hop couldn’t bring himself to look up. He didn’t want to see their faces. He didn’t want to meet their eyes. His mask wasn’t strong enough. It’d surely crack under all the pressure. He remained quiet, reliving the moment over and over again.
Rafe’s icy control and powerful presence, Christ, but Hop hadn’t been prepared for it. The way he’d jumped onto the stage in one leap like he was stalking prey. Hop had been caught, but he hadn’t moved. He hadn’t backed down.
At least he had that to be proud of. It was a small comfort, since his actions meant the Boyz were, once again, adrift.
“Don’t do this, you can’t give up.” His words were muffled, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
“Like we’d want to work for that asshole.” Z’s palm rested on Hop’s shoulder.