Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 101736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Except I liked planning now, and when I started to look ahead, I was surprised to find I wasn’t nervous. If anything, I was sort of excited about where this could lead. Vanderbilt wasn’t far at all, and she wouldn’t be under the watchful eye of her parents.
Her voice dropped to a hush. “Can I tell you a secret?”
Instantly, I flashed back to us more than a year ago, walking down the street toward her mother’s borrowed car, where she’d confessed her high school crush on me. Shit, we’d come so far since then.
My heart beat faster. “Sure.”
“I don’t want to swim anymore. I want to go inside, get naked, and . . . fuck your brains out.”
Holy shit. I couldn’t have grinned harder if I’d tried. “Who talks like that?”
“I do.” Her shy smile was seriously hot. “And you love it.”
God, I did. “Let’s fucking go, then.”
Colin and I wore black dress shirts and black slacks for Troy’s launch party. It was professional, but just casual enough we didn’t look out of place, and helped people identify us as the coordinators. We were part of a larger team, since the first half of the evening was an exclusive show that was managed by Warbler.
The venue was a throwback to Troy’s early days. Blanche’s Honky Tonk was one of the places he would perform at before he broke out, and it was where Erika had discovered him. The main floor had a stage, and the second floor had more of a lounge vibe to it with a small bar to one side. There was another bar on the rooftop, which had great views of the city skyline, and would have made for great pictures of the event, but we talked Warbler out of it.
Blanche’s elevator was ancient and small, which meant the large, heavy sound equipment for Troy’s performance would have to be carried by hand up two narrow flights of stairs. That also meant there would be accessibility issues. Plus, we’d have to contend with the weather—not just the heat and humidity, but the chance of a summer thunderstorm.
The biggest issue was the Stella factor.
Erika may have found Troy, but Stella was the one who’d used her name to make him a star. The multiple Grammy-winning artist had just wrapped her latest tour and lived in Nashville, so it was on the schedule that she’d drop by.
Only Warbler and Distinguished Events knew, and the plan was she’d join Troy during his set, and possibly do a song of her own. She wanted to make sure the focus was on him, though, and if word got out that Stella was performing on a rooftop, shit could get chaotic. We had a lot more control if we kept things indoors.
When we finished our final walkthrough and staff meeting, Colin and I moved to stand at the end of the bar on the main floor. We each chugged a bottle of water because it was T-minus fifteen minutes to the doors opening. This was the last chance we’d get before we’d need to be ‘on’ the rest of the evening.
My attention was fixed on the stage, watching the opening act finishing their setup, when my phone buzzed with a text message.
Sydney: I can’t stop thinking about what it feels like when you’re inside me.
Shit.
Her sexy text hit me like a sledgehammer made of lust. It’d been hours since we’d last texted. We’d both been too busy, and I pictured her now, hidden back in the stock room during a lull after the dinner rush at her restaurant. Her evening was winding down right as mine was ramping up, and I liked the idea that she’d used her first free moment to text me.
A smile spread across my face. I’d selfishly hoped a while back that I’d ruin sex with other people for her, but the truth was she’d done it to me. I began to type out my response, too distracted with my thoughts to sense the incoming danger.
Abruptly, the phone was plucked from my grasp.
My heart ground to a halt, but Colin simply laughed at my panicked expression, oblivious to the horrible dread that seized me, making me immobile.
“Seriously, bro. Who are you texting?” His tone was light as he glanced down at the phone he’d playfully stolen from me. “Maybe I should tell them you’re too busy to talk right now.”
“Gimme that back.” It came out in such a rush, it had to be unmistakable how freaked out I was. Plus, I jammed my hand over his, covering the screen, but this action made his suspicion spike. Or maybe he’d caught a glimpse of the name across the top of the screen.
Sydney wasn’t a common name around here.
Either way, he jerked the phone away, and when I stepped forward to grab it, he turned sideways and planted his free hand firmly in the center of my chest, blocking me.