Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 129207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
I’d rather be Ezra’s emotional punching bag than go back to living out of my car or being my father’s pawn to use and abuse.
The sound of people approaching has me stiffening, and as I glance back over my shoulder, I immediately relax, finding two of the hotel employees. One carries a bottle of champagne and a glass, while the other holds a perfectly folded towel.
“Miss Stone,” the champagne wielder says in a thick French accent. He bows his head, and I gingerly make my way to the side of the pool, watching him pop the top of the champagne and begin filling the glass.
He hands it to me, and I don’t hesitate to take a sip. “Shall I leave the bottle?” he asks as the other guy places the towel down on the bench next to my discarded clothes.
“Please do,” I say with a fond smile, more than able to get used to this level of luxury, but I suppose I shouldn’t become too accustomed to it. After all, the tour will be complete in four months, and after that, I’ll be back on my own. Though, I’ll have the funds to purchase my own home and make a decent start for myself. Unless Lenny decides I’m irreplaceable and sends me on the next tour with a band that won’t make me relive my agony every second I see their faces.
The man places the bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice by the side of the pool, and not a moment later, the two men scurry off, leaving me to my peace. With my glass in hand, I drift back through the warm water, sipping my champagne and taking in the night sky. Despite the pain from watching Ezra on stage, I think this might be the happiest I’ve been in the past eight years.
My champagne goes down like a treat, and before I know it, my glass is empty. As I turn around to go refill my glass, a wave of goosebumps rises on my skin. I lift my gaze, and there he is, sitting right there next to my clothes with his elbows braced against his knees and his heart hanging out on his sleeve for the world to see.
Ezra fucking Knight.
21
Raleigh
My whole body stiffens as I take him in. He doesn’t lift his head, but I know he senses that I’ve seen him. He could always tell wherever I was in a room, but when my eyes were on him, it was as though something inside him came alive.
My heart races wildly, and I put my empty champagne glass down beside the ice bucket, sensing that whatever happens next, I’m going to want to avoid having something in my hand that could potentially be thrown at his stupidly gorgeous face.
“You left,” his deep voice rumbles through the big room, and the sound is still capable of affecting me in every physical way.
I scoff, wishing he could have chosen to fight with me about this tomorrow after I was done indulging in this amazing pool. “What did you expect? That I’d hang around to watch skank one and skank two try to figure out the size of your dick with their fake asses?”
He lifts his head and looks at me, the fire in his eyes physically branding me and keeping me pinned. “That’s what this is about?” he demands, getting to his feet. “You’re jealous of them? Surely after everything, you know they mean nothing to me. They’re props for the show.”
“Oh, I see how it is. I should submit myself to having to watch that bullshit just because you needed me there. Okay, sure,” I scoff, letting him hear the thick sarcasm in my tone as I nod along. “But what about what I need? Because that sure as fuck wasn’t it. You didn’t even warn me, not a single mention about it because all you’ve wanted to do since I got here was hurt me. Well congratulations, you did it. Again, and again, and again.”
Suddenly I don’t think I’m referring to the past couple of days anymore, and I know he senses that, but as he stares back at me, he doesn’t pull me up on it. Instead, he stands and starts unbuttoning his shirt.
“You were jealous,” he repeats.
Oh no. This isn’t good.
His eyes don’t leave mine, and not a moment later, his shirt is on the ground.
“Of those two? No.”
His shoes come off, and he slowly strides to the edge of the pool, stepping down into it and letting the water soak through his ripped black jeans. A small smile lingers on his lips, and suddenly all I can think about is that kiss that ended way too soon. “Some things never change,” he says fondly, only those words are like a shot straight to the chest.