Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 160684 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 803(@200wpm)___ 643(@250wpm)___ 536(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160684 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 803(@200wpm)___ 643(@250wpm)___ 536(@300wpm)
He swore he sensed it before he saw it. Her face twisted in pain and she suddenly crashed to the floor. There were a few gasps and a laugh that he knew was coming from Lucy.
Bitch.
Without thinking, Grady jumped to his feet and rushed toward her.
Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Effie closed her eyes as she lay on the stage. Her back was spasming and it hurt. Why the hell had she attempted that move? Why had she thought this was a good idea?
Dumb. So dumb.
At one stage she would have kicked ass at this.
That was before.
It felt like her life had two acts. Before the accident. And after. And the after was complete and utter shit.
She had to move. She’d already humiliated herself. Now, she had to pick herself up, get off this stage and take the bus home. Walk several blocks. Then, cry herself to sleep without Brooks hearing her.
And considering he was the most observant sixteen-year-old she’d ever met, and they lived in a tiny one-bedroom apartment that was going to be pretty impossible.
“Oh, babe. Are you all right?”
She opened her eyes to see Chardonnay standing over her, concern on her face. That was nice. At least she wasn’t laughing at her. Yep, she’d heard someone laugh after she’d fallen.
Who did that?
“I could use a hand to get up,” she said in a husky voice. This wasn’t good.
Not good at all.
Why did you think it would be? Why did you think your back would be able to take this?
It could have handled the dancing if she didn’t get too carried away . . . but pulling herself up and down and twisting around a pole?
No. Just no.
Chardonnay didn’t move to help her, though. Instead, she tensed, looking away.
Awesome. She guessed she’d crawl her way out of here. At least she never had to see these people again, right?
“Are you hurt?”
Fuck.
Don’t be him. Don’t be him.
She turned her face toward that cold voice.
Fuck it.
She really had the worst luck, didn’t she? It was definitely him. He was now staring down at her with concern.
He’s probably wondering how the hell he’s going to get you off the stage so he can continue with his night.
“Effie, right?” he asked.
“You know my name.” Wow.
His face softened. “It was on your interview form, sweetheart.”
Well. Hell.
Too much to ask that he’d seen her across the room, fallen instantly in love, and questioned everyone for every detail he could find out about her so he could whisk her away on his yacht.
Urgh, no, not his yacht.
“I get sea-sick.”
“What?” he asked. “Did you hit your head?”
“It would seem that way, but no.”
“Are you sure? What hurts, then?”
“Nothing. I’m fine. Sorry. I’ll just get out of the way.”
His eyebrows rose as he crouched next to her. Wow, he was even sexier close-up. “Who said you’re in the way?”
“So. Darn. Pretty.”
“Did you just call me pretty?”
Uh-oh. Damn you, mouth.
“Nope. I was talking to Chardonnay.”
Chardonnay started laughing. “Nice as that is to hear, I don’t think you were talking about me.”
Yeah. She really wasn’t.
“What do you need? Grady asked.
“I think I’m okay, other than my pride. And my butt. It’s okay, it can take it. It’s well-padded.”
He frowned. “Don’t speak about yourself like that. Are you sure you’re not in pain? What caused you to fall?”
“Uh, just slipped, I guess.” She decided to ignore his small scolding about how she’d talked about her bottom.
“Hmm.” He didn’t look convinced. Which didn’t make sense. “It looked like you were in pain before you slipped, Twinkletoes.”
Twinkletoes? That was cute. Even if wrong.
Focus, Effie.
Sometimes, it was hard to get her brain to think about one thing. Scatterbrained is what Nan used to call her.
“Ah, I’m fine.”
“Is that so?” he murmured. “Then can I ask why you haven’t moved?”
“Um, well . . . I . . .”
“Babe, just tell us what hurts,” Chardonnay told her. She didn’t sound impatient, just concerned.
“It’s my back. I’m so sorry. If you just give me a moment, it will stop spasming and I’ll be able to move.”
“Will I make it worse if I pick you up?” he asked.
“Ahh, no. But you don’t want to pick me up.”
“Have you got a flesh-eating disease that I might catch?”
“Oh no, I got that cured last week.”
His face softened. There wasn’t a lot soft about this man, so she took that as a win.
“So there’s no reason for me not to pick you up?”
“I know I’m holding everything up. And everyone is probably staring at me, wondering why I’m lying here like a beached whale, but really, a few minutes is all I need.”
She hoped.
Because the stab of pain that just went through her back told her that things were worse than she’d thought.
“Is she all right?” a fake-sweet voice asked.
“Fucking Lucy,” Chardonnay muttered.
“It’s just . . . we’re opening in half an hour. So if we need to get an ambulance and someone to help move her, then I need to get onto that.”