Series: Fever Falls Series by Riley Hart
Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 96922 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96922 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
He hesitated a moment.
“Is this about Hacksmore? The shoot yesterday? Is TMZ saying one of my clients is birthing an alien baby? What is it?”
The quieter he became, the more my concern intensified.
“I think you might want to see it. I’m sending a link.”
My phone buzzed nearly immediately, as if he’d already had it ready to go, and I clicked it, my browser popping up. I waited for the website to load. Not TMZ, but just as bad: Glitz & Glam, a major trash site that enjoyed leaking the latest and most notorious gossip about celebrities. I went through my dossier in my head, trying to imagine who this was going to be about.
“I swear, if Toby Jackson went on another bender again, I’m going to lose my shit,” I muttered, reflecting on one of my less savory baseball-player clients.
Several images loaded.
I couldn’t even read the headline…because all I could see was me and Jace in the pond, lips locked, my back facing the camera, though fortunately not displaying my ass, as it so easily could have. The blood drained from my face. “Holy fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“What’s wrong?” Jace asked.
I couldn’t even get words out. All I could do was spew a series of curse words as I read the headline: Hottie Firefighter Caught with Former Child Star.
“Dax?” Carter’s voice came from the receiver. “Dax, you still there?”
This isn’t happening. It can’t be happening!
I was going to wake up in Jace’s bed and realize it was all some awful nightmare.
“Dax, please tell me what’s going on,” Jace insisted.
“Gimme…one minute,” I said through my teeth as I clicked on the link.
The original image of Jace with the Shar-Pei was on the screen, the caption talking about his rise to stardom as the video presented a slideshow of photos from his Facebook page and a clip from his video about his endorsement deal.
“Dax, what are you watching?”
“New pictures reveal Jace Kruse and former child star Donnie Gibson,” the caption read as the slideshow revealed a pic of us from the day before.
“Dammit!” I shouted, gripping my phone. I wanted to thrash about, to launch into a tirade, but as I glanced around the diner, I noticed I’d already attracted too much attention. Putting the phone to my ear, I said, “Carter, I’ll have to call you back.”
“Okay, talk to you soon,” he said, in that way he did when he could tell I didn’t need to be fucked with.
Served me right for having a fucking good time.
“What is it?” Jace asked, clearly dumbfounded.
He deserved an explanation. He deserved answers.
But I needed to throw up.
“I’ll be right back,” I said, hardly able to speak the words as I dashed off to the restroom.
I locked myself in a stall and leaned over the toilet, taking my time as I relieved myself of what little of my parfait I’d managed to get down.
My nerves were shot. One moment I was filled with hot rage and the next trembling as my thoughts were forced back to my past.
I slammed my body up against the stall door and bashed my fist against it. “Fuuuuuccckkk!!!” I called out in a long curse that left me out of breath as I dropped to my knees.
Outside the stall, the restroom door creaked open, and the sound of footsteps silenced me. Then I heard a knock at the stall door.
In that moment, I wasn’t a twenty-nine-year-old man anymore, with years of professional experience, having championed all the bullshit of my childhood and become a self-made man with an entire life that had nothing to do with my past.
I was just Donnie…fucking…Gibson.
22
Jace
“Um…you okay, man?” I asked as I rapped on the stall door again.
As I waited for a reply, another guy entered the restroom and eyed me curiously before approaching the urinal farthest away from the stall Dax had confined himself to.
Dax muttered to himself on the other side of the stall. His words were incoherent, but even the guy at the urinal turned, seemingly disturbed by how Dax was Golluming his way through sentences. The guy gave up on his mission, and without so much as washing his hands, headed out.
Probably for the best.
What the hell had happened?
We’d had an incredible time the day before, and an even better night. And then breakfast seemed nice and pleasant enough. What sort of work crisis could have made all that vanish in a moment, leaving him totally incapacitated?
I continued waiting, figuring Dax had to come out at some point. After a few moments, the stall door opened, and Dax leaned against the side, looking miserable as fuck, his face white as a ghost’s.
“We need to talk,” he said.
We headed out to his rental, which we’d taken to the diner. He sat in the driver’s seat, and I sat in the passenger seat. He finally pulled out his cell, looking at it before saying, “There are pictures of us from yesterday, in the woods.”