Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 33698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
“Loveland is quite protective of you.”
“It’s nice. I mean, it was only my dad and me, so they’re like family too.” Dylan slides his fingers into mine as the plane touches down. The door opens a few moments later. Dylan puts his hat and glasses on before guiding me off the plane and down the stairs. Two black SUVs sit waiting for us.
“I take it this is Irish?” says a man in a suit walking toward us.
“You call her Clover. Irish, this is Chris. Chris, this is my girl Clover.” I can’t help but love that he introduced me as his girl.
“It’s nice to meet you.” I give him a smile.
“It’s really nice to meet you too.” He smiles back at me, but I can tell he’s assessing me. He’s unsure of me.
“Shall we?” Dylan motions toward the waiting SUVs.
“Yeah, everything is ready.” He hands Dylan a folder. “The contract we talked about. There is an NDA in there too.”
“She’s not signing an NDA.” Dylan’s hand holding mine tightens.
“It’s fine. I can sign whatever you need me to.”
“I’ll look over the contract and give it back to you tonight.” Dylan doesn’t say bye to Chris. He leads me toward one of the SUVs.
“He’s not going to like me,” I say when we’re alone in the SUV. Well, kind of alone. There is a driver.
“Chris will be fine. He’s only being a stickler. Don’t worry about him. In fact, if I’m not around and you need something, you can always ask him, and he’ll handle it.” Yeah, I won’t be doing that. It would be awkward.
I glance out the window as we drive into the city. Dylan points out a few places to me as we pass by them. I take it all in. It feels good to experience something new with Dylan at my side.
“Will we get to sightsee or anything?” I ask when we pull into a parking garage that goes underground.
“Maybe.” He pulls his hat off to give me a kiss before he puts it back on and opens the door for us to get out. A few people who look like security stand nearby. Dylan puts his hand on my back, guiding me toward a side door.
Once inside, we go straight to an elevator and directly up to our room. “We don’t have to check in?” I’m not sure what the heck Dylan does for a living, but I know not just anyone gets this sort of treatment.
“Nah, it’s been handled.” I step into the suite, my mouth falling open as my eyes take all of it in.
“This is a hotel room?” I almost don’t believe it. It looks like one of those super fancy big city penthouses that you see in magazines.
“Yep.” Dylan tosses his hat and sunglasses onto a table along with the folder Chris gave him. “You hungry?”
“A little bit.”
“I had them bring up a bunch of stuff.” He leads me farther into the suite. It has a freaking dining room. He starts lifting lids to reveal the food. “I say we eat and make use of the massive tub before I have to do some work.”
“Okay.”
“Irish.” He pulls me down into his lap. “It’s just a hotel. Doesn’t mean shit. All that matters is that you came with me. Those four days without you almost killed me.”
“Me too,” I admit. He brings a piece of steak to my mouth. I open it, letting him feed me. I don’t think there’s much I wouldn’t let Dylan do to me at this point.
CHAPTER 17
DYLAN
I slip out of bed and grab my phone. It’s about time to get to the stadium. I debate what I’m going to tell Irish. If I reveal that I’m a singer now, will she take off? If I get her to the venue, she won’t have an easy way to leave. No one there will actually tell her what I do. Like I told her earlier, my circle is tight. The staff isn’t going to say anything. It’s not like anyone goes around saying, “Hey, singer Dylan.” If she stays in the room set up for her, she won’t see any costume changes or the makeup artists. But realistically, how long am I going to keep her in the dark? It’s starting to feel ridiculous.
I decide to tell her when we get to the venue. I take a quick shower and let Chris know that I’ll be ready to go in an hour.
Irish is still snug under the white comforter, looking innocent and sweet and not at all like the hellcat that dug scratches into my back and shoulders. I sweep the hair away from her cheek. “Irish, you hungry?”
She scrunches her nose and slides deeper under the covers.
“Tired still?” I rub her back. Maybe I will leave her here. Sitting at the venue in some strange room might be weird for her. I can’t really spend time with her. My breaks are timed tightly.