Textual Relations Read Online Lauren Rowe

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
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“Is it okay if I sleep over at Eddie’s tonight?” Drew calls to my back.

“Of course. Have fun.”

“I guess that means if you want to finally have your boyfriend over, the house will be all yours.”

“No, we’ve already made other plans, not that it’s any of your business.”

As I make my way down the staircase, I hear Drew calling Eddie from his room. Quickly, I gather my purse and overnight bag, since Grayson and I have booked a room at our usual hotel for the night. After shouting goodbye to Drew, I head outside, and two minutes later, I’m settling into the backseat of an Uber, since Grayson is planning to drive us from the restaurant to the hotel.

“That’s a nice perfume,” my female Uber driver says, as I latch my seatbelt.

“Thank you. My boyfriend gave it to me for Valentine’s Day.”

“What’s it called? I’d like to get some.”

“‘True Love.’” I smile at the memory of Grayson giving me the purple perfume box, its name embossed in swirling gold script on its cover. Yet again, clever Grayson had found another way to tell me he loves me, without saying the actual words.

“Aw,” the driver says. “That’s sweet.”

“My boyfriend is very sweet—the sweetest man I’ve ever met.”

I look out the car window, as certainty washes over me. He’s so sweet, I think, I’ve just now decided I’m going to tell him I love him tonight, as soon as we walk into our hotel room. And once I’ve said the magic words and heard him say them back to me, I’m going to pounce on that sweet man and give him a night of hot sex he won’t soon forget.

12

GRAYSON

“To an amazing launch day!” Victoria says. She raises her glass, and everyone at our table—a group that includes Victoria, Selena and me, Victoria’s business partner and his spouse, and the three amazing coders who’ve worked tirelessly alongside me for months—enthusiastically join the toast. A few more toasts are given, at which point another round of drinks are ordered and individual conversations begin blossoming around the table.

“On a personal note, Grayson,” Victoria says. She leans in to be heard by only Selena and me at the table, as the rest of the group chatters enthusiastically among themselves. “Cheers to you for making my best friend the happiest I’ve ever seen her. That’s saying a lot, given how long I’ve known her.”

“No need to thank me,” I say, shooting Selena a grin. “This woman makes me so damned happy; I keep pinching myself to see if I’m dreaming. But then I think, ‘Stop pinching yourself, dummy! If this is a dream, don’t wake yourself up!’”

Victoria and Selena giggle at my stupid joke and we slide into easy conversation about various, non-work-related things. After a bit, though, Selena places her linen napkin on the table and says, “Excuse me. I’m going to hit the ladies’ room before the food arrives.”

She winks at me as she rises, and then saunters away with her hips swinging, well aware I’m watching her gorgeous backside as she goes.

“So, Grayson,” Victoria says, “I know we agreed not to talk too much shop tonight, but have you come to a decision about which industry we should micro-target next?”

“Yeah, actually. I’ve thought about it and . . .” I’m distracted when my phone on the table buzzes with a text from Selena. It reads;

Selena: Meet me in front of the restaurant. There’s something urgent I need to tell you.

Instantly, anxiety floods me. What urgent situation could possibly have arisen between Selena leaving for the bathroom and now? Did she leave the table because something was bothering her?

“And . . . what did you decide?” Victoria asks. “Don’t leave me hanging, Gray.”

“Sorry. I have to send a quick text. Forgive me.”

With my heart lodged in my throat, I quickly tap out a reply text to Selena, asking her if everything is okay, and when she quickly replies that everything is wonderful, that I should meet her out front as soon as I can, I exhale with relief and rise from the table.

“Excuse me,” I blurt. “I have to . . . say hello to an old friend I saw over there.”

As I take my first few steps away, I try to walk slowly. Normally. Like my heart isn’t crashing in my ears. But as soon as I’ve turned a corner and my dinner companions can’t see me, I begin sprinting through the restaurant like a bat out of hell toward the front door. Selena’s never summoned me like this before. What’s going on?

Outside in the cold night, I’m relieved to find Selena looking anything but upset. In fact, she looks practically giddy—red-cheeked and bright-eyed, like a kid with a huge secret to spill.

“What’s up?” I say, as I come to a stop before her.



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