Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 106150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
But on the other hand… what if he didn’t? What if he was so loyal to the real Sterling Chase that he got angry at my impersonation? What if I’d cleared this many hurdles, gotten so close to achieving my goal, and lost it because I trusted the wrong person?
I thought of my sister and touched the tattoo on my hip. I couldn’t take that chance.
More than that, the idea of confessing my lie to Bash made my whole body go cold with humiliation and fear. I liked him—liked the sound of Bash’s laughter and the way he looked at me so intensely that my heart plinked around like pennies in a jar. Liked the way he’d protected me when he’d thought I was someone who deserved protecting and the soda pop fizz that had sparkled through my veins when he’d leaned close to me in the car.
I didn’t want to lose any of that.
I didn’t have a lot of experience with guys. Back home in Indiana, I’d shared a few longing looks and a couple of handjobs behind the bleachers with guys who’d gone on to very loudly proclaim their straightness by dating women. After I’d come up with the idea for Project Daisy Chain, I’d been too consumed with my research to spend time figuring out how to meet other gay men in rural Indiana. And since I’d arrived in New York, I’d been way too busy delivering burritos and trying to finagle a meeting to bother with Hornet or Grindr or any of the other apps Joey kept encouraging me to try.
But I knew that I was close to having a very real crush on my very fake employee. And, maybe selfishly, I wanted to keep talking and laughing and holding this sexy man’s hand as long as I could…
Assuming, of course, that I didn’t vomit on his shoes in the next ten minutes from nerves.
“I was a bit worried back there, honestly,” Bash said after we’d walked in silence for another moment.
I looked up at him in surprise. “Worried… about me?”
“Obviously not,” he scoffed. “Worried about Bernard. I was afraid you were going to let loose with the martial arts.” He dropped my hand and mimed some sort of move that looked more like a person having convulsions than any of the karate moves I’d learned through after-school enrichment programs.
I snort-giggled inelegantly and pressed a hand to my mouth, startled by my own laughter… and by the fact that I could laugh so soon after the almost-debacle.
Bash glanced at me, and his lips twitched, exactly as they had last night. Then he repeated the action, jumping into an exaggerated crane pose before doing a high kick… right there on the track to the stables, where anyone could see him.
“Sterling Chase does not tolerate your disrespect!” he fake-yelled.
I burst into laughter then, so hard I doubled over and my stomach cramped with it. It was so silly—all of it, nearly every moment of the last two days—and my life had had a distinct lack of silliness for so long. The simple pleasure of laughing with him was like rain after a drought, soaking into all the dried-up parts of me, washing away the dust, and making me feel like something could grow there again.
Even if nothing else came of this weekend—of my whole damn trip to New York—I could almost, almost convince myself that this wonderful moment with Bash was enough to justify the cost.
I’m going to kiss this man, I promised myself. Somehow, some way. He is going to be my first real kiss.
When we neared the stables, Bash grabbed my hand again and gestured for me to follow him halfway down the row of stalls to the spot where a pretty brown horse with a white starburst on her forehead stuck her head out curiously, like she’d been waiting for us.
“Ohhhh,” I breathed. “How gorgeous.”
“She is.” Bash reached out to stroke the horse’s nose. “These stables house more than the polo ponies. Several people keep their thoroughbreds here because of the trainers and facilities… Hey, sweet girl. I want you to meet a friend. Rowe, this is Starlight. Starlight, Rowe.”
“How do you know her?” I asked before reaching out a tentative hand to rub the side of her neck. “You said you liked polo, but do you ride?”
“I do.” He hesitated. “Silas and I have been friends with Dev since college, and Dev’s a renowned horse trainer… among other things.”
“Oh.” Bash’s answer explained why he’d been able to introduce me to these guys. It also probably explained how he’d gotten the job with Sterling Chase in the first place. He had connections to two of Sterling’s—my—trusted board members.
“Where’d you go to college?” I asked just as Starlight swung her head around and pushed it into my face.