Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 112917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
It wasn’t a prank.
He knew it. So did I.
But while I loved how much he worried about me—seriously loved it—I hated seeing him this way. Hated knowing that I caused him stress and worry. I swallowed and tried to get us back to normal, to the way things were supposed to be.
“Bears are supposed to be very food-motivated. They’ll eat anything and everything, according to the podcast episode I listened to last week,” I managed to tease, though my voice came out wobbly and an entire octave higher than usual, which probably ruined the effect. “So I’ll remind you that last time we were at Gran’s, you ate three helpings of those cheese grits—”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” he demanded. “I don’t give a shit about your podcast, Zane. This is about your safety. It’s not a joke—”
“I know it’s not,” I soothed. “I do know. I promise. It’s just… how many times do I have to tell you… I’m fine!”
“Sure you are, Zane. You’re Mr. fucking Fine. Keep telling yourself that.”
As soon as Bear—Ryan—stormed off, I closed the dressing room door behind him and locked it before leaning my back against it and sliding down.
The tears came instantly. I’d been holding them off for hours to get through the final set, and now here I was, on the floor, face swamped with tears of exhaustion, fear, and a desperate, bone-deep need to go home and see my family.
To forget that someone had touched me without my knowledge.
Had managed to pull aside my shirt and ink my skin.
Had tried sending me a message of some kind without explaining what the fucking point was.
I let out a shaky breath and tried to get control of my emotions.
I was the king of good fortune, I knew that.
In the grand scheme of things, my current hardships were small potatoes, and I had no right to complain.
Not only was I a megastar—one of the rare unicorns who’d dreamed of being a successful rock musician and had actually made it happen—I was also part of a priceless brotherhood of lifelong friends and, although hardly anyone outside of my brotherhood knew it, a rags-to-riches story even before I’d started my music career.
Bash, Silas, Landry, Dev, and I had met while attending Yale and had worked together to invent ETC, an emergency response software. Selling our company had netted us each over a billion dollars. We’d also learned the hard way to keep our windfall a secret from everyone but our assistant, Kenji, and our life partners, for those brothers lucky enough to find one.
Obviously, the millions I made from my music career were impossible to hide, but that was no hardship. It just meant that I got to be crazy-generous with my wealth without risk of divulging my brothers’ secrets. It meant that I could consult with property agents about which of several multi-acre spreads in Wyoming I’d like best and not have to factor the cost into my decision. It meant that I got to be selective about the music I recorded and the contracts I signed.
It was the kind of life I’d have been scared to even dream of, growing up in Barlo. A comfortable, easy life, where I’d gotten to make all—or at least almost all—of my dreams come true. And by living my own dream, I was able to help others reach theirs. That was a privilege as well as a responsibility.
So yeah, I was Mr. fucking Fine, as Bear called me. And I damn well should be.
I damn well had to be.
Too many people were counting on me for me to be anything else.
So even if I was scared, even if I was freaked-out and violated and outraged and wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball under the covers, I was going to remind myself of how freaking lucky I was. Then, I was gonna smile and get on with the show.
And I did…
Until the emails started.
TWO
RYAN
Everyone knows bears are fiercely protective of their territory and their loved ones. When a bear claims something, it’s theirs, and they won’t hesitate to defend it. It’s a foolish bear indeed who goes sniffing around another bear’s honey.
—Bear Facts for Insomniacs, Episode 21
No one tested my patience like Zane Hendley.
Before meeting Zane a little over a year ago, I hadn’t known it was possible to be so annoyed by a genuinely good human. He was kind and generous, sweet and talented, and even after a year of being together almost twenty-four seven, I still had an enormous crush on him.
Possibly slightly more than a crush.
Yet I also fantasized about sedating him just to keep him from lying to my face about being “fine.”
That wasn’t the only thing I fantasized about doing to him, but the other things were even more unprofessional than the first. And I took my job way too seriously to consider wrecking it by—