Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 354(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 354(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
“Yeah.”
Knowing it will take his mind off his problem, I decide to exaggerate things on my side a little as I say, “Good, now about Camille DuBois. The woman is fucking infuriating.”
Just as I’d hoped, Nikolai starts to laugh. It takes a while before he catches his breath. “You just lectured me about love and relationships. Did you miss the entire conversation?”
Frowning, I mutter, “I don’t care about the woman.”
“Yet,” he chuckles. “Give it time. Soon she’ll be under your skin, and before you know what’s happening, you’re fucking her brains out, and your best friend tells you just to let things happen naturally.”
Shaking my head, I growl, “You’re impossible to talk with today. I’ll call tomorrow when you’re in a better mood.”
Nikolai’s laughter comes over the line as I end the call.
Fuck I have to be careful with Camille, or I’ll end up in the same position as Nikolai.
Chapter 10
Cami
Last night was like a breath of fresh air.
Not the incident at the nightclub, but after, when Max watched a movie with me.
He smiled and even laughed a few times.
His smile. Holy hotness.
It made his eyes a million times more intense. There was a spark, like it was trying to ignite a fire, and I got the feeling if that happened, he’d be irresistible.
His smile changes him from serial killer to devastatingly handsome.
I wonder if he even knows how much it changes his features.
Dressed in a pair of jeans, a sweatshirt with a hoodie, and sneakers, as per Max’s request, I’m checking my camera bag when he comes down the stairs.
My head lifts, and the air wooshes from my lungs. “Jesus,’ I whisper when I see the gray sweatpants he’s wearing. My eyes lock on the outline of his manhood beneath the fabric.
Holy. Shit.
“You’re going to give every woman a heart attack.”
Or an ovary explosion.
He pauses at the foot of the stairs. “Why?”
“You can’t wear gray sweatpants in public.”
A frown forms on Max’s forehead. “What’s wrong with sweatpants?”
I don’t even have the mental capacity to process my words before they leave my mouth. “They look too hot, Max. It’s like me walking in the streets in lingerie.”
His eyebrow pops up. “I doubt that very much.”
“To women, gray sweatpants on a man are the equivalent of lingerie. How do you not know this?”
Not able to stop myself, my eyes sweep over the said sweatpants. Tingles spread through my abdomen, and I start to fuss with my camera bag.
“I’ll be back in a second,” Max grumbles.
My eyes dart up, and I blatantly ogle his ass as he walks back to his bedroom.
Letting out a sigh, I draw my bottom lip between my teeth.
Damn, I should’ve taken a photo of him in the sweatpants. It would sell for millions.
When he comes out of his room again, I let out a groan because the black cargo pants aren’t much better.
He still looks hot.
He comes toward me and asks, “Better?”
I shake my head and admit, “Honestly, you could wear old-man pajamas, and you’d probably still look hot. At least everyone will be too busy looking at you to notice me.”
The corner of his mouth lifts slightly. “Hot?”
I roll my eyes and walk to the elevator. “Don’t fish for compliments.”
Max swipes the keycard, and when the doors slide open, he says, “Cover your hair with the hoodie.”
I let out a sigh and scowl at him as he comes to stand next to me. “This is not going to work. The paparazzi will spot me a mile away, and they probably already know you’re my bodyguard, so you’ll be a dead giveaway.”
“It’s worth a try,” he mutters.
Max said I should dress comfortably, that way, I won’t attract attention. I don’t think it’s going to work, but I’m willing to give it a try to keep the peace between us. I just hope me wearing jeans is not on the front page tomorrow.
Pulling the hoodie over my head, I smile at Max.
I’m still in shock that he’s trying to be more human, and I wasn’t lying when I said I appreciate it. I feel less tense around him.
The elevator opens in the parking area so we can sneak out the back, and I let Max check our surroundings before I join him.
“Where do you want to go?” he asks as we walk toward the exit.
“Anywhere. I usually drive around until I see something that draws my attention.”
He stops walking and asks, “Do you want to take the car?”
I shake my head. “It will be nice just to walk around. I never get to do that.”
Nodding, he places his hand on my lower back. Where it annoyed me the first time he did it without my permission, his touch now makes me feel protected, and I have to suppress the urge to move closer to him.
When we reach the sidewalk, Max doesn’t remove his hand and steps closer to me. Our sides are touching, and every brush of our clothes sends tingles of awareness spreading through me.