Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
“Oh.”
I could almost hear the cogs in her mind turning from here.
“Well, do you want me to follow through on your last request?” she asked with a hint of snark in her voice.
“My last request?” I tugged a shirt over my head, trying to recall what it was. Bringing my guitars back to Colorado?
“You know, that I…” She sighed. “That I pick a girl.”
I paused with one sock on. That’s right, I’d been an ass and given her shit just before I’d taken the stage, which, oddly enough, had worked almost as well as alcohol to take my mind off the nerves. And it wasn’t like I didn’t have a reason to be just as pissed at her as she was with me.
She was embarrassed that she’d crossed a line? Hell, I was the one who’d kissed her, then caged her in on the kitchen island, confessing how badly I wanted her. I was the one in knots because I couldn’t decide if I was thankful she guarded my privacy with such ferocity or livid she only saw me as a client.
“Well?” she prompted.
I finished putting on my socks and shoved my feet into my favorite Converse. “No, I don’t want you to get me a girl.” Unless that girl was her, in which case I was more than on board.
She glanced over her shoulder, then turned fully when she realized I wasn’t naked. “Then why would you be such an ass and ask me that in the first place?”
I ignored the question completely. I wasn’t getting into this with her right now. Not when there was a very real chance I’d cross that professional line she loved so much. This shit between us was too raw, too powerful, and way too tempting.
“I need you to get me out of here. Call the pilots, we’re going straight to the airport.” I looked her dead in the eye and let her see the trembling in my hands, the monster of addiction that lived just under my surface.
Her entire presence softened, transforming her from Shannon to Zoe. “Okay. I’ll call.” She took out her phone and made the arrangements as I guzzled another bottle of water. “When do you want to leave?”
“Right now.”
* * *
We’d been airborne for forty minutes and I still couldn’t get myself level.
“Anything else I can get you?” the flight attendant asked with a professional smile as she delivered our drinks.
“Privacy,” I snapped. People had been in my face since ten o’clock this morning and I just wanted to be left the hell alone. I felt like I was dancing on a tightrope between two high-rises in the rain, risking my life to perform for everyone below, and it wasn’t just on stage.
“No, thank you, Kelly,” Zoe replied. “I think we might just need a little space for the duration of the flight.”
“Of course. If you need anything, just press that button.” With those instructions, I was finally, blissfully alone.
Guess my standards for privacy had changed with Zoe around.
I leaned back against the soft leather of the couch and swirled the ice in my glass, watching the cubes spin round and round, wishing it was something a little stronger than orange soda.
“You didn’t have to be a dick.” Zoe put down her laptop and unbuckled her seat belt from the single seat across from me.
“That’s just who I am. You think you’d be used to it by now.”
“That’s not true. You’re still pissed at me for last night...or what I said before the show, since it’s all interconnected.”
“That’s just a part of what’s going on in my head, Zoe,” I admitted, rolling my shoulders. My skin felt too tight.
She closed the small space between us and took the seat next to me, kicking off her heels and curling her bare feet under her. “Want to talk about it?”
“No.” If I wanted to talk about it, I would have.
“I’m not embarrassed about kissing you.” She relaxed, resting her cheek against the back of the couch.
“Just at how people would look at you if they knew.” I looked away before those eyes of hers could unravel me. The strings on my self-control were already frayed. I’d actually run away from my own band, sending lame texts to Quinn and Jonas on our way to the airport.
“You know how Peter assumed I’d gotten my job because I was sleeping with you?”
“Peter is an asshole, and you’re not sleeping with me.” I leaned forward, bracing my elbows on my knees.
“But if I did—”
My gaze snapped to hers.
“And if people knew, everyone would assume that’s exactly how I advanced.” She kept her voice soft, and I heard the honesty in what she was saying.
“But it’s not the truth.”
“Come on, Nixon, we both know that in this business, perception is truth.” Her lips turned up in a sad smile. “You might get crap for slumming it with the assistant, or breaking your promise not to sleep with the women on staff, but no one would ever doubt your right to a piece of that stage.”