Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
She presses a hand to her heart. “Your very own savior.”
“Yeah.” I smile. “I guess you could say that.”
“That would make a good song,” she encourages.
“Actually, I have been writing down a few lyrics. Did you want to take a look?”
She nods and claps her hands. With a laugh, I go and get my song book and hand it to her. She takes it enthusiastically and glances down at the lyrics, reading them. “I like this,” she says. “You should finish it.”
“That’s the plan, I’d like to get some of my own heartfelt stuff back into the next album. Everything I write at the moment is for the sake of the fans and the label. I want my own words to be put back into it.”
“I can help you,” she offers.
I beam at her. “That would be amazing.”
We spend the next hour or so working on the song coming up with a heap of lyrics. But the rumble of a bike stops me mid thought and I jerk my head up to see Maverick rolling behind the bus, relaxed on his bike, big body looking like it has not a care in the world. Amalie shoves me a few times, and I look at her. “Is that him?” she asks.
I nod, grinning.
“Ohhhh,” she chirps. “He’s so handsome!”
“He is, right. Watch this.”
I grin and hold up a peace symbol. He smiles, and his hand raises off the handlebar and he returns it. Amalie giggles and waves to him. He waves back. “He is kind of scary, isn’t he?” she asks me as we watch him.
I look to her. “Yeah, he is, but it’s a good scary. The kind that makes you feel really safe when he’s around.”
“I wouldn’t want to annoy him.” She grins. “He’s huge.”
We both laugh and I can’t wipe the silly smile from my face.
He came.
Of course he did.
What made me think he wouldn’t?
~*~*~*~
SCARLETT
I want to see him.
I’m pacing across my room, sick of being held up in this space, not being able to go anywhere or do anything. I’m tired of spending all my time on the bus or in a hotel. Surely, I can slip out for a few hours? Susan has gone to do some shopping, and I’m frustrated. I can’t go with her; the second I walk down the street people bombard me. And sure, I can cover up enough, and most of the time they will allow me out when I’m wearing the right kind of disguise, and it usually always works, but right now they don’t want me out at all.
Because of Trey.
Damn him.
I pick up my phone and text Maverick.
S – Are you busy?
He responds a minute later.
M – Just having a beer. Why?
S – Want to sneak me out for a ride? I’m restless!
It takes him a bit to respond, but he finally does.
M – Where are you staying?
I give him the address, and he tells me he’ll be past in ten. Happiness floods my chest. I swore I wouldn’t have too much one on one time with him, but dammit, he’s the only person I know that can get me out of this damned space for a little while and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t really really want to see him. Ever since I told him about Trey, we haven’t had a good deal of time together. In fact, I’d almost say he has been avoiding me, so I’m thrilled to see he’s willing to take me out.
I dress in a pair of jeans and a tank, then I grab a coat to pull over my shoulders, and a big floppy hat and sunglasses. That usually does the trick. Most people don’t tend to even look that closely. It’s only if I stop for some food, or try to eat out or go into a really crowded place like a mall that people tend to recognize me. I grab my phone, and then I rush out of my hotel room and down into the lobby. Security is standing in the front lobby, watching anyone that comes in or out.
Dammit.
I forgot about them.
I peer around and notice an emergency exit at the back of the hall. You’re not really supposed to use those, and I’m fairly certain they get an alert when you push the door open. Will it set off an alarm? The elevator dings open, and a family comes out. There are six of them, two parents, four kids ranging from maybe six to about fourteen. I could blend with them.
It’s worth the risk.
I take off my hat and sunglasses and approach them.
The oldest girl, a teenager, turns a funny shade of white and her hands press to her mouth.
“Please don’t scream!” I smile. “Hi, how are you?”
“Oh, my god.” The girl laughs. “Am I dreaming?”