Total pages in book: 200
Estimated words: 189898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 949(@200wpm)___ 760(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 189898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 949(@200wpm)___ 760(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
Loren looked succulent in his red dress shirt, which, as usual, was splayed open despite it being winter. Seriously, how had he never caught pneumonia? With each step Loren took, I could see his hard nipples peeking through the edges of his shirt and the silver medallion gleaming against his skin.
Jericho, swaddled in a navy blue hoodie and toying with his lip ring as his dark hair pressed against his forehead and brushed his ears, brought back all the teenage angst that made my stomach ache and my toes curl.
When I felt my feet itching to carry me forward, I wrapped my hands around the cold metal of the railing as if it were a life raft in the middle of the sea. I didn’t have much, but I still had my dignity, thank you. I wouldn’t run to them as everyone else had.
Spotting me at once and seemingly hearing my thoughts, the guys stopped only a foot away from the stairs. I could see the command in their eyes for me to come to them. Loren wore his perpetual smirk while Jericho eyed me warily, and Houston scowled.
What the hell were they doing here?
“Pretty fucking rude of you not to invite us to your show,” Loren accused.
The first chance I got, I’d find out why he always insisted on being the first to speak. Was it to fool everyone into thinking that he was the one in charge? My gaze drifted to Houston, the silent but undisputed alpha of the pack—oh, how it must have twisted Loren’s knickers. I filed that away for later, though I was sure Oni would disapprove. My mission was to salvage, not sabotage.
So much for my actual mission. With each encounter, I began to wonder if succeeding was worth putting up with their crap.
Of course, it is, Fawn. Keep it together.
Houston, Loren, and Jericho were obstacles, and while they might seem impenetrable, I wouldn’t let them get in my way. Crossing my arms, I went for indifference. It was quickly becoming a familiar ruse.
“You’re here, aren’t you?”
The only questions were how and why. The only person who could have tipped them off was—
Oni.
Through vigorous effort, I moved my gaze away from the stunning trio and searched the eager crowd behind them. The festival’s security helped the ones Bound came with to keep them at bay, but it didn’t seem like it would be enough.
Where is she?
“Sridhar isn’t here,” Jericho informed me.
I couldn’t tell if it was out of kindness or cruelty. It didn’t matter when I realized they were his first words to me and how easily I lost myself in his attention. The finest silver had nothing on the pureness and beauty of Jericho Noble’s gaze. But that wasn’t what called to me.
It was the sadness.
I willingly submerged myself.
Just when I thought I might never find my way back to the surface, the commanding drawl of Houston’s voice yanked me out. It was no wonder he could captivate a crowd.
“It’s not like Sridhar could help you if she were,” Morrow taunted in the blandest tone he could muster.
With one threat, he’d reminded me that they, for now—or always—were my enemy. Getting lost in their beautiful gazes was unequivocally out of the question.
“Bold of you to assume I’d need it,” I heard myself say. “It’s three against me, Moe, Curly, and Larry.”
I delighted in the subtle shift of their eyes and the quiet agony over which Stooge I’d associated them with. They wouldn’t let themselves ask, and I wouldn’t enlighten them. Instead, I let them decide and hoped it destroyed them.
“And when we get you alone?” Houston challenged. He started up the stairs, and I backed up a step before catching myself and staying put.
They could crowd my space, but it would still belong to me. They could make my belly ache with want, but I’d still hold all the power.
Their control was a fallacy.
An image of them surrounding me, clothes discarded, and souls bared, invaded my thoughts in vivid fucking clarity—a warning of what would happen if they ever let go.
Waiting for the taste of cherries to dissipate, I glanced at the crowd again, wondering how much they could hear. They hadn’t grown bored or lost their determination to reach the rock gods yet. Some women had resorted to lifting their shirts and baring their tits in the hope of capturing Bound’s attention. If the guys noticed, they didn’t let on.
They were used to it.
I didn’t linger on how much that annoyed me.
“I’m curious,” I pondered out loud. “How did you plan on getting me alone when you’ve been running scared of little ole me for two weeks?”
Before they could respond, the band I was supposed to replace on stage at that very moment pushed through the curtains.
Shit.
I looked around but didn’t see Liam, Mason, or Abe. I just hoped they were busy plugging in for the show and not one of the eager ones behind Bound straining to reach them. Our only saving grace was that the festival supplied a surprisingly good backline, so we didn’t have a ton of equipment we needed to prep for stage. The rolling riser we’d rented for Mason to set up his drums beforehand was a godsend.