Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 129207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
I would have killed to spend the flight snuggling with Ezra, to feel his warmth wrap around me, but we’re not there yet, and honestly, I’m not sure if we’ll ever be. There’s too much to unpack, too much heartache and trauma to work through.
Instead, I listened to Dylan gently snoring in my ear as I stared at the three pendants hanging around Ezra’s neck. Axel’s ring, the guitar he got from his mom before I even knew him, and the simple R that shows after all these years, I’m still home to him.
The boys have two weeks off to chill at home before we’re due to get back on a flight and head to Portugal, and until then, I’m lost. Obviously, I’ll spend some time with Madds and probably have to check in with the label, but for the most part, I don’t know where to go. I don’t have a home here, and I don’t particularly want to go running to Lenny and ask for another fancy hotel room.
Hmmmm I wonder how Rock or Dylan would feel about me crashing at their places. Or maybe Madds. She has a small apartment, roughly the size of a shoebox, but I’m sure she’ll be down with it. Just like old times. I can spend my nights choking on the overwhelming scents of her billion and three candles. It’ll be perfect.
Pulling out of Dylan’s hold, I shove my elbow into his side, waking him up. The idiot could sleep through a tornado. “We’re here,” I tell him as he scrunches his nose and drags his hand across his face, making me smile. I can’t wait until he falls in love and finds that one special girl who’s going to change the game for him. She doesn’t know it yet, but she’ll be the luckiest girl who ever lived. Dylan is a catch. He’s the whole package, and if it weren’t for our brother-sister relationship or the way I whole-heartedly belonged to Ezra, I’m sure as a teen, I probably would have crushed on him.
The thought sends an icy shiver down my spine. I can only imagine what my father would have had to say about that.
Getting to my feet, I grab my coat and go to make my way off the jet, only Ezra stands at the same time, and we awkwardly meet in the middle. His hand immediately comes to my waist, and I feel every eye on us, waiting to see what will happen. “Are you . . . ummmm. Do you know where you’re staying for the next two weeks?”
I force a smile across my face, but it doesn’t reach home, both of us knowing how fake it is. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“Okay, well then, I guess I’ll see you in two weeks.”
Two weeks? Fuck. That suddenly seems like a lifetime, but also, fuck him for not wanting to see me before that. “Yeah,” I say, my fake smile falling away as I press my lips into a hard line. I turn and start making my way off the jet, not wanting to say goodbye. After all, that’s not what we do. Besides, what’s two weeks away from him when I’ve already have eight years of practice under my belt?
My heart aches with every step I take off the jet, and as I reach the tarmac, I don’t dare look back as I find my driver from that first day in LA and beeline straight for him. I feel Ezra’s stare on my back as he follows me out of the jet. Even as my driver holds the door open for me, and I scoot into the back of the car, Ezra’s eyes linger. The driver is quick to get into the car and pull away, and the second he does, I risk it all by glancing out the window and gazing at the other half of my heart.
Ezra stands by his car, leaning against the blacked-out SUV, his gaze locked on me, and despite the dark tint of the windows, I know he senses my stare on him. It’s impossible not to.
Everything hurts, and I fall back against the seat, tipping my head right back and closing my eyes. It’s barely even midday, and despite having done nothing but sit in a luxury jet all morning, I’ve never felt so exhausted. I need to sleep for the next twelve years.
“Where are we headed?” my driver asks, meeting my stare through the rearview mirror.
“Ummmm . . .” Shit. It would probably help if I actually knew where Madds lives. “I don’t actually know. I was thinking of staying with a friend, but I kinda haven’t run it past her yet and don’t actually have her address, but—”
“Your brother’s place?”
My brows furrow. “I’m sorry?”
“You had asked me to show you where he lived,” he reminds me. “Are you no longer wanting to see his home?”