Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
He nods. “I would have asked sooner, but you’ve kind of been avoiding me since the moment we finished.” He shrugs. “So, what better time than now?”
I am shocked. Floored. This is the last place I thought his question would go. I mean, seriously? Is he really asking me that right now?
“I haven’t been avoiding you.”
“You basically ghosted me.”
“I did not ghost you.”
“Change your gender and your name, and you could be a Shadow Brother.”
What can I even say to that?
You could tell him that he’s right…
“Listen,” he adds, and his voice is so soft, so tender, it takes me by surprise. “I’m not judging you. And I’m not upset. I just want you to know that I enjoyed that night. Really fucking enjoyed it. So much so, I was hoping for a repeat. I want to make sure I didn’t do anything or say anything that would give you reason to avoid me, you know?”
“You wanted a repeat?”
“Hell yes.” He reaches out and gently squeezes my thigh. “Lots of repeats. As many repeats as I can get, actually. That night with you was incredible, Katy. You were incredible. I didn’t hurt you, did I? Scare you somehow? Because if I did, you need to—”
“You didn’t hurt or scare me, Mack,” I whisper quickly, unable to let him go even another second thinking he might have done something wrong. “I promise.”
My fingers fiddle with the edges of the Twinkie package in my lap. “I got a little freaked out because we work together,” I eventually find the strength to push out. “But I enjoyed that night too. So much I scared myself.”
Mack squeezes my thigh again. But he doesn’t say anything else. Doesn’t ask me any more questions. Instead, he hands me his cell phone once he’s pulled up his Spotify app. “Every road trip needs a soundtrack,” he states. “It’s already hooked up to the Bluetooth. Just need you to play DJ.”
The change in subject is an unbelievable relief, and I’m eternally grateful. I blow out the breath I’m holding and curl one corner of my mouth into a smile.
“Mr. Music Man is putting me in charge of our road trip playlist?”
“I trust you, babe.”
Yeah. Scary thing is, I’m starting to trust him too.
Katy
At a little after eleven in the evening, Mack pulled us into our final stop in Raleigh, North Carolina. We finished the day with almost ten hours of driving, and he booked us a room at a Marriott that was just off one of the highway exits.
He’s still refusing to let me pay for anything, but there’s no way I’m going to let that slide. If he keeps this up the whole way back to New York, I’ll just sneak a check into his mailbox at school.
I grab my toiletry bag from the sink and run a brush through my wet hair.
I don’t know what it is about being in a car all day, but it always makes me feel like I need a shower. Which is crazy because it’s not like I was doing anything besides sitting there, playing music, and eating half of Mack’s junk food snacks.
Of course, I didn’t get to take a full shower because of my foot, but I did manage to wash off my body and my hair via the sink. Not the most ideal scenario, but it’s the best I can manage.
Once I toss on a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top, I finish my nightly routine of brushing my teeth and washing my face.
When I hobble out of the bathroom on my crutches, Mack is perched on the only bed in the room, watching television. He requested two queen-sized beds, but a room with a king-sized bed was all they had available.
I still have no idea what the sleeping arrangements are going to be, but I’m electing not to think about it. Beggars can’t be choosers and all that.
Though, beggars certainly were begging the other night when you told him to take you to bed.
“Feel better?” Mack asks, pulling me from my thoughts, and I force a smile to my lips.
“A lot better.” I toss my toiletry bag on the chair that holds all the stuff I brought in from the car. “Bathroom’s all yours,” I add, and he doesn’t hesitate to jump off the bed.
“Fantastic.”
It doesn’t take long before I hear the shower water switch on, and my mind decides to remind me that there’s a completely naked Mack Houston inside this hotel room with me. Visuals of his tight ass and firm pecs fill my head, and I force myself to sit on the edge of the bed and grab the remote and find something to watch on TV.
I flip through what feels like a hundred channels, but I can’t stop thinking about all the things I definitely shouldn’t be thinking about.