Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
I’ve never felt as self-conscious as I have the past five days. I want to blame the change up on my upcoming late-night show gigs, and learning that the man paid to protect me requires an ankle monitor, but it feels like more than that.
I didn’t even balk when Knox told me about Laken’s shady past. I’m not one to judge, but hoping Laken’s new accessory would scare Bella away should have been the last thought on my mind.
As I break through the kitchen door, I yank down the wig making my scalp itchy. The lush fibers brush against my shoulder as I recall that the hotel replenishes the water bottles in my room every morning.
“You’d lose your head if it weren’t attached,” I murmur to myself while pivoting on my heels halfway into the kitchen.
“Ouch,” I sob with a groan when my quick spin has me crashing into a firm chest.
While rubbing my stinging nose, I lift my eyes to the person shadowing me so soundlessly that I didn’t hear their steps. “You should watch…” My words trap in my throat when my eyes lock on to a pair of familiar angst-riddled eyes.
For the umpteenth time this week, Laken has followed me into the kitchen. Since Knox is running an errand, it is the first time another presence hasn’t dampened the hold he placed on me the instant he entered the elevator last week.
The tension is as immediate now as it was back then, and I want to forget how much it hurt waking up alone the morning following our fun night.
It was the same three nights ago when I got a little excited with the champagne in the limousine. I was almost tipsy enough to act recklessly, but before I could, Laken ordered Knox to deliver a package on his behalf like he was running the show before he ordered me to bed like a child.
I told him to shove it, but he was quick to remind me that not a single decision made while intoxicated is a good one.
I was on the verge of tipsy when I met him, so I couldn’t exactly argue.
It’s been three days, but I can still hear my bedroom door's bang when I slammed it shut after my dramatic stomp to my room. I acted like a child, but the tingles I’m experiencing now are nothing close to childish.
How can you be mad at someone and want to kiss them to death at the same time?
It is preposterous to have such starkly different responses for one man.
“What are you doing, Laken?” I ask when I can’t avoid the energy crackling in the air for a second longer.
I hate the hope in my tone that he’s followed me to issue an apology for his erratic behavior the past five days, but not as much as I loathe his reply. “I promised Knox I wouldn’t sleep until you slept, eat until you ate.” He works his jaw side to side. “Fuck until you fucked.”
Although it should be easy to harness my callous tongue since he doesn’t have a gorgeous blonde draped over him, I seem to have lost the ability to act cordially around him. “Oh… should I have checked that you’d finished with Bella before showing her out? I hope I didn’t spoil your fun.”
Incapable of acting nonchalant about the thought of him with another woman, I sidestep him before making a beeline to my room.
My hurried steps slow when Laken whispers, “If you want me to apologize for ruining your fun for the second time this week, you’re shit out of luck.”
“You didn’t ruin anything,” I fire back, detesting that he thinks he’s affected me in any way. “But would it kill you to admit you were wrong?” I thrust my hand at the living room like the audience from three days ago are messing up the Persian rugs with the dirt from their shoes. “They loved my performance. They couldn’t get enough.”
My mouth gapes when he uses my words against me. “You must be conscious of your bias to make ethical commentaries.”
“So you still listen to me even while acting like I’m not in the same room as you?!” I angrily shake my head when he doesn’t flinch at the anguish in my tone. “You’re an ass.”
“Me?” He follows my storm across the pristine marble floors, his stomps as pounding as my heart. “What I said to you that day was wrong, but come on, you didn’t give me much to work with.”
I stand in front of him, chest to chest, lips to lips, groin to groin. “People have one-night stands all the time. That doesn’t make them whores.”
“No, it doesn’t,” he agrees, shocking me. “But you should have been honest. You should have told me about him! I shouldn’t have been blindsided the way I was.”