Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 133886 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 669(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133886 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 669(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Greer had his analyst complete a quick needs-based assessment using Dylan’s handwritten notes from his meeting with the brothers. The report proved stunningly favorable in moving forward, helping everything fall into place a little faster than normal. BikeBro had some product issues and their bookkeeping was a mess, but overall, they didn’t require the resources Greer had suspected from the three minutes he’d been inside their apartment.
A ding from Greer’s cell phone caught his attention. He looked down to see Skye’s name in the notification bar. He picked up the phone, swiped a finger over the lock screen and read her text.
“Why do you want his number, Greer?”
Greer’s thumbs flew over the small keyboard of his phone. “I want to check on him. He was pretty messed up last night.” It seemed reasonable and truthful enough. He pushed send, dropping the phone back on the mattress. He hadn’t completed two additional sentences in the rough-draft contract when the phone vibrated again.
Of course, he picked it up. “I should ask permission before I give out his number.”
Greer’s head started shaking no at the terrible idea. He couldn’t make his fingers move fast enough in order to keep her from texting Dallas right then. “You know I’m safe. I’m not going to bother him. I just want to check on him. Ducky seemed worried.”
He gave himself a mental high five for throwing Ducky into the mix.
The three typing dots kept Greer glued to the small screen until no words ever came. Minutes passed with nothing more before he dropped the cell back on his bed. Greer refocused on the agreement. He read the same sentence three times, trying to make himself concentrate on anything other than Skye’s pending text message.
Reasonably, he understood even if he didn’t get the digits, he had his way into Dallas’s life by way of the investment opportunity. He’d already decided to keep an eye on the entire project himself—at a distance, of course. Those three brothers had no clue how a business truly operated.
Skye didn’t have to give him Dallas’s number. He could get the phone number by himself.
Greer clicked the Wilder search engine icon and quickly typed BikeBro into the search bar. He expected to find a website link. Instead, he found a list of videos. Dylan had told him the company used YouTube as a marketing source, but he hadn’t given it another thought. What an error that had been.
Drawn to the shirtless cover image of Dallas bent over his bike, his face showing the strain of the exercise, Greer clicked on their channel. Dallas dominated more than half of the video listings. He looked over the sizable subscriber count and average views of each video before clicking on the first one. Their branding seemed spot on. BikeBro was clearly the most prominent part of the video.
When Dallas started speaking, Greer lost the battle with his will. His gaze fixated only on Dallas. For someone who had managed his obsessive tendencies for most of his life, it was insane how badly he wanted him. The utterly handsome man, with the deep rich voice, caused Greer’s dick to stiffen, pressing uncomfortably against the underside of his laptop.
At the sound of the text notification, Greer absently reached for the phone, barely able to take his eyes off the screen to see Skye’s message contained ten numbers. If they weren’t Dallas’s digits, he would know soon enough. He started to type a message, but his gaze riveted back to his laptop’s screen. Everything about Dallas just did it for him. He was hot as hell, no question, but also a good instructional trainer.
He watched Dallas for several seconds until the need to talk to him overpowered everything else. Greer paused the video and sent a text to the number. It took an insane amount of time for him to form a single introductory sentence.
“I’m checking on you.” Greer pushed send, and started the video again, watching several more minutes as Dallas spoke to the class attendees. He seemed to have an infinite amount of energy. His voice barely seemed labored as he rode. In length and in intervals, Dallas explained the benefits of using BikeBro for a workout. It was damned impressive.
Greer’s phone dinged, the vibration rattling in his hands. He casually lifted the device as if every one of his thoughts, all day long, hadn’t been centered on this exact moment. The return message was simple and to the point. He suspected the trainer was very much the same way. “I think you have the wrong number.”
It wasn’t the message he hoped for. That would have been: “Hi Greer, come fuck me, then do it again, then let me do you. I’ve been waiting for you.” But at least it was a start.
Greer typed quickly in response. “If this is Dallas Reigns, then yes, it’s the correct number. I’m Greer Lockhart. We met last night.” He pushed send, keeping the phone in front of him, staring down at the screen. His heart did a weird tripping thing as he waited. Greer again homed in on the desperate feeling that seemed to run rampant when he let his mind wander about Dallas.