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)
Easing off him one leg at a time, Jersey pulled on her jeans, socks, and shoes. While sliding the knife back into her sock, she stared at the wet spot she left on his jeans. He stared at her.
Jersey dropped into the chair. Then Ian folded his hands on his lap, tipped his head back, and closed his eyes. It felt like mere minutes before they landed. By the time she managed to peel open her eyes, the only other person left on the plane was Max with her arms crossed over her chest and a scowl pinned to her face.
“What time is it?” Jersey mumbled, pulling her tired ass out of the leather seat. The only light she could see out the window was from a vehicle parked near the plane. “What?” She rubbed her eyes when Max refused to move out of her way.
“In five hours, Ian has a live televised interview with a morning show.”
Jersey squinted against the overhead, fully illuminated lights. “Okay. Whatever.”
“He’s not a turtleneck guy, and I’ve never seen him wear a scarf. It’s not his look. If we try to change his look too much, it will distract from the promotion of the album and tour.”
“Jesus …” Jersey sighed. “Can we just find a place to crash for a few hours? I don’t give a shit what you decide to do with Ian’s look. Why are we having this conversation?”
“Because he has a massive hickey with bite marks on his neck that wasn’t there when he boarded the plane. I went to sleep, and as far as my husband has shared with me, I don’t unknowingly suck and bite people’s skin at night. Shane just got married to a woman, so I didn’t even question him about it. The pilot stayed glued to his seat, and Eve, the attendant, didn’t fly with us tonight. See where I’m going with this?”
Another sigh escaped Jersey’s hickey-giving mouth. “It won’t happen again.”
Max shook her head, lips pulled into a firm line. “I can’t ask him this, but I’m sure as hell going to ask you … did you two use a condom? It’s usually something I provide while picking up miscellaneous things for him, but he didn’t make a request, which makes me think this wasn’t planned. And there are a lot of unplanned people walking this earth.”
“We didn’t have sex.”
Max narrowed her eyes, disbelief radiating from her entire body.
“We didn’t.” Jersey forced herself to look Max in the eye, in spite of the lights burning a layer of her corneas.
When Max seemed satisfied, albeit still pissed off, she pivoted and exited the plane. Shane waited by the vehicle with the back door and the front passenger door open. Max hopped into the front, and Jersey climbed into the backseat.
Ian eyed her briefly, again with no expression or hint of emotion. Then he leaned his head against his window and closed his eyes. They parked at a side entrance to the hotel and shuffled through the door and down the hallway in a single file line, with Max leading the way, followed by Jersey, Ian, and Shane.
When the elevator doors opened, Jersey stepped inside and turned toward Ian and Shane as they followed her. Her gaze homed in on the huge mark on Ian’s neck. She cringed. He turned around, standing beside her. Again … no reaction. Not his signature smirk or even a fleeting moment of anger that matched Max’s irritation regarding the interview in less than five hours.
Five hours.
Jersey knew a lot about bruises. That mark on his neck would look much worse in five hours.
To Jersey’s surprise, they all exited the elevator on the same floor, which meant their rooms were closer together. Max flashed the face of her phone over the sensor to a room and opened the door. Ian slid past her, with a simple “goodnight” mumbled.
“Goodnight,” Max replied.
Shane used his phone to open the door to another room.
“You’re with me since he didn’t invite you to stay with him.” Max smiled at Jersey as she shut the door to Ian’s room.
Jersey ignored the smug expression on Max’s face. Lack of sleep robbed her last fuck to give that night … or morning. It was morning, just early, before-Jersey’s-jog early. Max opened the door to their room, and Jersey tossed her bag on the ground at the end of the bed near the window.
“It’s not you.” Max pulled off her white coat and draped it over the back of the desk chair.
Jersey removed the knife from her sock and set it on the nightstand. Max had a much more visible reaction than Ian did.
“If someone breaks into the room … I’ve got it handled.” Jersey smirked while slipping off her shoes and jeans and crawling into bed.
Max cleared her throat, peeling her gaze away from the knife and lifting her jaw off the floor. “As I was saying, it’s not you. What we discussed on the plane? I don’t want you to take it personally.” She unzipped her suitcase, grabbed a smaller bag and a nightshirt, and disappeared around the corner into the bathroom. As she droned on about Ian and what’s best for him, his life choices, his future, and his reputation, Jersey fell asleep.