Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Ian grabbed the magazine from Max and held it up—as far away from Jersey as possible. “Can you read the title?”
Jersey shook her head and squinted.
He moved it a bit closer. “Now?”
“No.” She leaned closer and took it from him, bringing it less than two feet from her face. “Now I can.”
“Jesus, Jersey … you need glasses.” Ian shook his head.
She knew that. Dena took her to the eye doctor. They got her a prescription and picked out a sleek pair of frames for her new glasses. The day Dena died was the day she was supposed to take Jersey to pick up her glasses.
Twenty-twenty vision and pizza on the same day. A day that should have been one of the best days of Jersey’s life turned into the worst day of her life.
Worse than the day she took a man’s life.
Worse than every day she was abused physically and sexually.
Worse than any day she exchanged her body for something like food or antibiotic ointment.
Jersey nodded, handing the magazine back to Ian. “This one time, Marley let me look through his thick glasses. It was like a whole new world to me. He said they probably weren’t the right strength for my eyes, and that I shouldn’t look through them that long … like they could have messed with my sight or something, but I didn’t care. So sometimes when he’d doze off in his chair, I’d ease his glasses from his face and wear them outside just to see all the shit that I’d been missing.”
Ian frowned and so did Max as they stared back at Jersey.
“We’re going to get you glasses,” Max said without even looking at Ian.
Jersey’s gaze shifted to him. Ian nodded several times. His expression held an uneasy sadness.
“It’s fine. I just got paid. I can probably afford a pair of glasses if I don’t buy a phone like Max suggested. I can just send you messages on receipts. Right, Coop?”
“Pfft …” Max faced forward again.
A smile cracked Ian’s frown as the car stopped at an old warehouse. They spent two hours at a photoshoot, grabbed coffees on the way to a radio interview, more coffee and a clothing change before a television appearance, and finally a thirty-minute podcast with a young woman who was some sort of social media influencer.
“Where to now?” Jersey asked as they piled in the SUV after taping the podcast.
“The venue for the sound check. And then you’ll clock in and explain to Dani where you’ve been all day. And your coworkers will hate you. So there’s that fun.” Max glanced back at Jersey as Shane gunned it out of the parking lot.
With a solid fifty-fifty chance of killing everyone’s favorite rock star, Jersey wasn’t concerned about winning any popularity contest. When they got to the venue, Jersey started to walk in the direction of the long line of tour buses, but Ian grabbed her hand and pulled her in the opposite direction.
“I have to work.”
“You will. In a bit.” He pulled her into the building as Shane led the way and Max followed behind them.
Their locked hands drew a few lingering glances from some of the crew as they made their way to the lower level and the green room. “Hey.” Ian greeted his bandmates, who were in their usual spots, playing video games.
They returned their half-interested greetings, not giving Jersey more than a quick glance and polite nod as Ian pulled her to a sofa back in the corner of the room. Ian shut off the lamp next to it, giving the corner a feeling of privacy compared to the rest of the room.
He opened a bottle of water and drank half of it. Then he handed it to Jersey. She stared at it for a few seconds before taking it from him and drinking the rest.
“You didn’t even the score today. I’m a little disappointed.” He plopped on the sofa and leaned back, propping his feet up on the opposite end.
Jersey returned a nervous laugh, setting the bottle on the small table next to the sofa. “Well, we were never alone.”
“That’s my life.” He held out his hand.
After a few seconds of hesitation, she rested her hand in his. He pulled on her until she stumbled into the sofa, landing on top of him.
“You have to get creative,” he whispered as her face hovered over his face, the ends of her ponytail brushing his cheek.
She swallowed the rush of anxiety that came with her body pressed to his. “You have sound check.”
“In forty-five minutes.” His gaze swept along her face.
“I have to help set up the merchandise stands.”
“Someone else can do it.”
“I could get fired.”
Ian grinned. “Then your boss is a dick.”
Jersey didn’t want to smile, because no matter how much she tried to convince herself to treat Ian like an opponent, like the enemy, she couldn’t stop herself from liking the way he looked at her or the way she craved his next move—his next touch.