Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 98823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
“You’re definitely not a pony.” Duncan laughed, a dry sound like he’d surprised even himself by finding me funny. “And like I’m letting Ezra Moon wander around Chicago on his own.”
“Let the man do his job, Ezra,” Kate commanded before I could tell them that I was totally capable of using a ride app or whatever. I wasn’t some pampered prince, no matter what Duncan thought. But I could also tell when arguing was pointless.
“Fine.” I might have agreed, but I didn’t have to like this arrangement, and I stayed quiet on the ride to the hotel. Duncan insisted on using a back entrance.
“Do you really want the paparazzi snapping pics of you reeking of cheap beer and looking like a wet rat?”
“Good point,” I ground out. And that was the extent of our conversation until Duncan opened my suite door.
“Maybe now we can talk.” His voice was pitched overly cautious, and I hated it. Whatever he had to say to me, I was in no mood to hear it.
“Or not. Do your security check thing,” I ordered, already eyeing the path to the bathroom. I needed away from him and all these inconvenient feelings. “As you said, I stink. And you were right.”
“I was?” Duncan narrowed his eyes, forehead creasing.
“You need to be a professional.” I blew out my breath hard enough to ruffle the damp, stinky hair falling in my face. God, I was so gross. “I’m not going to stand in the way of you being all honorable.”
Duncan shook his head like I was being stubborn instead of giving him a damn gift by not continuing to chase after him. “Nice of you.”
“I’m gonna shower now.” I stalked off to the bathroom, nothing like the night before when I’d felt all warm and cared for even before I hit the water. None of that tonight. “Alone. I’m done tempting you into things you feel like shit about later.”
“Ezra.” Duncan made a pained noise that I simply couldn’t deal with right then, so I shut the door and proceeded to feel guilty about throwing up a brick wall the whole shower. I washed my hair twice, both because it was that nasty and also to give Duncan plenty of time to retreat to his room and leave me in peace to sulk by myself.
I emerged from the shower to a way-too-quiet suite. Damn it. Maybe I didn’t want to be alone after all, but no way was I calling Duncan back to escort me to the club. I wasn’t fit company for the others, and the idea of pasting on a smile and making jokes made me nauseous. I stomped into the bedroom only to pull up short.
Whoa. There, on the center of the bed, was a tray holding the biggest slice of pie I’d ever seen, a towering confection of thick, billowy meringue and something chocolaty and rich as the filling with a crust so flaky little shards lined the plate. And if that wasn’t enough, next to the plate was a small note in blocky handwriting on the hotel room stationary: I’m sorry.
More than slightly dazed, I retrieved my phone from my pants in the bathroom. You got me apology pie? I texted only to hear a beep from somewhere in the room.
“What the…?”
Somehow, I’d missed Duncan himself sitting on a chair in the corner of the room. The pretty upholstered piece was way too small for his big frame. He looked ridiculous sitting there, holding his phone, body rigid, but it was his uncertain face that softened me even more than the note.
“You’re still here?” Careful to not topple the pie, I sat on the bed. I wanted to go right to him, but I wasn’t entirely sure where he was going with this. I wasn’t sure I could bear a we-can’t-do-that-again lecture, no matter how sweetly delivered.
“I am.” Duncan licked his lower lip. “Apparently. I should have been smart and left you to your pie, but it turns out I hate you being mad at me more than just about anything else.”
“I’m not mad at you. More like mad at myself, letting us get out of control, reading too much into things.”
“You weren’t reading things wrong.” He leaned forward, hands on his knees. “Last night was…I don’t have words.”
“Better than pie?” I waggled my eyebrows in his direction.
“Better than a whole damn dessert buffet. Best I’ve ever had, and you weren’t wrong. I like you. Far, far too much.” His voice wavered, and I hated that this thing between us caused him so much pain. I fiddled with my hands in my towel-covered lap to keep from reaching for him.
“I like you too,” I whispered.
“I know. And I was a dick.” Duncan’s mouth twisted as he squished his eyes shut for a long breath. “You were simply trying to be nice today, and I was the one being weird and uptight.”