Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 68882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
“I like it when you come by and I’m not in trouble,” Hud says before giving me a side hug. “Be safe out there. People suck.”
“Same goes.”
I wave and close the front door behind me, then hurry down the walkway to my car. Coming over here was two-fold.
To see the cousins and my brother, and so that I had a decent place to park while I go for a run on the waterfront.
It’s my favorite place to run in the city.
The trail spans over five miles, so I can go as far as I want, and the view can’t be beat.
The Seattle skyline is always beautiful, but this morning, it’s also clear enough to see Mount Rainier in the distance, and it makes me smile.
I love my home.
With my earbuds in—but not loud enough to drown out my surroundings—I take off down the path, headed away from the city first. I want that view to be my reward on the way back.
I let the rhythm of the music set my cadence. Losing myself in the run is a drug that I never thought I’d become addicted to, but here we are anyway.
And the fact that I’m not stick-thin always garners looks from passersby, who can’t believe that a curvy girl can be fit enough to run.
But I stopped caring about what others think of my body a long time ago. Now, it’s my job to help other women stop caring about what others think of their bodies, too.
I turn a corner, getting ready to head back the way I came, when, out of nowhere, a big body slams into me and takes us both down to the ground.
One of my earbuds falls out, stopping the music.
“Oh, God.”
I try to roll away, but I’m pinned.
“I don’t have any money.”
“Shit.” The man, the very heavy man, raises his head and gives it a shake, as if he’s dizzy. “Oh, man. I’m so sorry.”
“Get. Off. Can’t. Breathe.” I push on his very sweaty, very bare chest. “Off.”
“Oh, right.” He rolls away, and I take in a gasping breath. “Shit, I’m sorry.”
He holds out a hand to help me to my feet, and I accept. His hand is firm and a little calloused.
“I looked down at my watch for just a second, and then you were suddenly there, and—”
“And you plowed me over.” I search the grass for the missing earbud.
“What are we looking for?” He searches with me, which is kind of endearing. Geez, I think the tackler is endearing? I must be concussed. “Keys?”
“Earbud.”
“Ah.” After a few seconds, he reaches down and picks it up. “Found it. You know, you shouldn’t listen to music while you run. Especially alone. You need to be aware of your surroundings.”
I narrow my eyes on him as I take my earbud out of his hand and ignore his sexy torso. He’s tall. He must be the same height as my dad and all my uncles, and they’re a bunch of tall guys.
It’s where I get my height from.
“Thanks for the advice.” I slip it back into my ear. “I can hear everything over the music.”
“Did I hurt you?”
“Nothing that an Epsom salt bath won’t cure. Be careful out there.”
And with that, I turn and jog away. When I turn the corner to circle back around, I see that he’s still watching me, and when I run past him, I simply say, “Don’t be a creep.”
“No, ma’am,” I hear him mutter, and when my back is to him, I grin.
If I had to get tackled in the park, a sexy tackler was the way to go.
Today is a filming day, so when I get home, I hop in the shower and get myself ready. I’m known for not wearing a ton of makeup, but I do put a little on my eyes before pulling my hair back into the ponytail that’s also part of my brand. Then, I pick out a pair of teal leggings, a white T-shirt, and a matching teal jacket to go over it before heading to the kitchen.
I always keep most of my recording equipment set up. I’m the only one who lives here, and it’s a pain in the ass to take all the lighting gear up and down.
So, it just stays.
Just when I’m about to open the fridge, my assistant, Becs, hurries through the front door.
“I’m late,” she says, flailing her arms around. “And I’m sorry.”
I glance at the time. “You’re literally one minute late. We don’t start the flogging around here until you’re four minutes late. It’s in the rules.”
She smirks. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t easy leaving my warm bed this morning.”
“And who was making it so warm?”
Becs licks her lips. “His name is Lenny. He’s a musician. I mean, he’s no Leo Nash or anything, but he plays the harmonica.”