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)
It was still unclear whether Loren actually forgave me since he was the kind who reveled in doing the opposite of what he was told. He wasn’t shoulder-checking me anymore whenever we were in the same room or glaring at me like my every breath insulted him, so there was that.
The following night, we slipped into Braxton’s suite using the extra key card Dani had procured for us without our girl’s knowledge. We found them inside the dressing room the size of a large bedroom, “So What” by P!nk on blast. They were posing together in front of the tall, three-paneled mirror and were too busy shifting their bodies to find the right angle to notice they were no longer alone.
“Which one of you is the wannabe actor again?” Loren inquired. The three of them screamed and turned around once he made our presence known. “You’d be perfect for the role of ‘girl who dies in the first five minutes.’”
“The correct word you’re looking for is aspiring,” Griffin informed him.
“Oh, I guess that means I’m talking to your girlfriend then?”
It was obvious Loren had called them out when Griffin and Maeko’s eyes nervously darted to Braxton, who unsurprisingly looked unsurprised.
“Is there a reason why you’re in our suite?” Braxton asked with a sigh. She didn’t bother to acknowledge what Loren had just told her.
“Your suite, babe. We didn’t invite them.”
Crossing her arms, Braxton shot back, “I did.”
Loren gave her a subtle smile before sinking his teeth into his bottom lip while he gazed at her lustfully. “Doubt that.”
She wanted to be alone with us too. If we needed to scheme so she could pretend that she had no choice, we were happy to oblige her.
For now.
Eventually, Braxton and her friends would have to come to terms with the fact that we weren’t going to let her go.
“Ready?” Houston asked her when her silence became a little too telling. We had the green light we’d been waiting for. Nothing more needed to be said. I just barely resisted smiling smugly at her friends.
“Yes,” Braxton answered before slowly walking toward us.
I could feel her gaze on me as I admired her long hair pinned up in a ponytail with a few strands framing her face and neck. I didn’t appreciate the white, satin slip dress that looked dangerously like lingerie so much. She wore it with a black leather jacket and her combat boots, but she was testing my fucking patience when I once again questioned if she was even wearing panties. I didn’t like anyone seeing what was mine unless his name was Houston Morrow or Loren James.
Our show was tonight, and then it was off to Hamburg, Cologne, Mannheim, and Munich. No fucking clue if that was the actual order.
When Braxton tried to pass me, I grabbed her hand. She stopped.
“Panties?” I asked when her gaze met mine.
She pulled her hand away with a smile that was soft but devious. “Is that your concern anymore?”
“It never stopped.” I held her gaze so she’d know I was completely serious. “Panties?”
God help her if she made me ask again.
I watched her roll her eyes as she looked away. “Yes, Jericho. Can we go now?”
I don’t know what came over me. I pulled her into me, wrapped my hand around her nape, and…I ruined the black lipstick painting her lips.
She let me.
For a while.
And then she remembered the right was no longer mine.
Braxton pulled away, and I immediately began to relive that kiss. I didn’t know when I’d be able to steal another. It had been too long since I felt her lips. It felt like I’d been trapped inside a drought. With one kiss, she’d brought me back from the brink of death. At least, that was how it seemed.
We made it to the stadium.
We made it through soundcheck.
We made it onto the stage, and I was still thinking about that kiss.
Braxton’s gaze had traveled to mine more than once during the show. She was looking at me now, black lipstick restored, and her gaze wondering what if.
What if I kissed her again?
What if she forgave me?
What if I meant every one of the words she still wouldn’t allow me to say?
I do, baby. I do.
I know you love me too.
After the show, everyone was wired, so Loren suggested we do something we hadn’t done in a while. Celebrate for no fucking reason at all. He made a call, and it was done. The six of us hopped in the black Suburban and drove for thirty minutes.
The club Loren brought us to had one of the strictest door policies ever and was…weirdly obsessed with wearing black? I eyed Braxton’s white dress, and so did the bouncer after we bypassed the long line. Either Loren had the pull, or even the formidable guard with tattoos and hella piercings could spot a rebel masquerading as an angel.