Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
When the valet brings Steven’s Audi around, Raymond fishes through the back and grabs a packet about the fundraiser. He passes it to Travis, who he says he’ll touch base with over the next few days. After they drive off, Travis turns to me and says, “Sorry to rope you into the fundraiser.”
“Oh, no. Not at all. Peter was always the sort who helped out because he found fundraisers were a great way of being social or being seen by the right people. It was very insincere…self-serving. Kinda made me sick when he’d talk about them because he made it clear he cared more about who was bringing the most money to the party than he did people’s desire to help out with an important cause. I didn’t get that impression with Raymond, and considering how much behind-the-scenes work I did with Peter to help put together fundraising events, I feel like some of these skills could actually come in handy and help out someone who’s passionate about all this.”
He appears impressed by my long-winded response.
“Sorry, I’m kind of drunk,” I say. “Not like really drunk but a little tipsy. I think that’s why I started harassing Raymond about the musicals. I mean, he’s great and all, but who doesn’t like Les Mis?”
“How well does Peter know them? I mean, he’s on the board with them, right?”
“Yeah, but they’re not the kind of guys he would hang around. I mean, he would be impressed with their money, and he probably plays kissy-face with them when they’re out, but Steven and Raymond are pretty down-to-earth, and from what I can tell, they have a pretty good bullshit detector.”
“Obviously not that good,” Travis says.
That’s right. I forgot the entire dinner was about duping them, and now I feel bad. They’re really nice guys. The kind of guys I’d enjoy hanging out with outside of our farce of a relationship. It’d be fun to talk to Raymond about musicals, but it makes me sad knowing this entire dinner was based on a hoax. I try to remind myself it’s not a terrible lie. Travis isn’t a bad person. Just a guy who needs some cash to start a business that will end up benefiting Steven, too. But this whole idea was a lot easier when I didn’t know how cool Steven and Raymond were.
I try to suppress my guilt while the valet fetches Travis’s car. As Travis drives us back to Metropolis, I pump my mouth full of breath spray, anticipating where this is going. Travis swipes it from me to refresh as well. Clearly, we’re on the same page.
***
“I didn’t know you were such a fan of musicals,” Travis says as we head down the hall toward my unit.
I start into my rendition of “I Dreamed a Dream.” I turn to him, and he looks at me as if I’ve lost my mind.
“What? You don’t know Les Mis either?”
“I know the song but never seen the musical.”
“How is that even possible? Oh, I love the Ruthie Henshall version the best. Such passion. Such power in her voice.”
His brows pinch together. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
“Really? Your mouth-speak isn’t making sense anymore. Les Mis isn’t just a good musical. It’s a look at the world as it really is. Warts and all. It’s love and happiness and joy and misery, hopelessness and grief all in one. It’s the total expression of the human experience.”
“Oh, okay.” I can tell by the way Travis is looking at me that he doesn’t believe me, and I’m slightly overenthusiastic about this right now. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s cute that you’re into musicals. Just never been my thing.”
“You might as well be speaking another language,” I say as we reach my unit. I retrieve my key, continuing “I Dreamed a Dream” under my breath as I start to unlock the door. Travis sets his hand on my shoulder.
“Thank you,” he says softly in a sincere voice that doesn’t hold the cocky swagger he often speaks with.
He pulls on my arm, and before I know it, I’m facing him, and he’s kissing me, pushing me back against the door.
A powerful heat fills my cheeks—a sensation I’m sure is being helped along by the Chardonnay.
I’m even less inhibited than the first time we fucked. I’m curious to have another go and appreciative that Travis wants to explore that intense passion with me again.
His mouth opens wide as he offers powerful kisses like he’s determined to show me how good a kisser he is—something that’s self-evident. As my thoughts dissolve, I’m totally immersed in this experience, only able to focus on his subtle movements—his nips, the flick of his tongue, his nose running across my cheek.
When he finally breaks our kiss, he gazes into my eyes with the same intensity we shared that first time. “If you’re going to sing, I’d rather it be in the bedroom.”