Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
River shifts my focus back to him with a pleading tone. “If you’re okay, can I go back to the kitchen now?” The excitement on his face is understandable when he rubs his hands together while saying, “I want to eat the muffins while they’re still warm.”
“Yeah. I’m fine. Thank you for bringing this to me.”
“You’re welcome.” He skips to the door before suddenly turning back around to face me. “Before I forget, Laken wanted me to tell you he didn’t steal your phone.” He takes a moment to make sure he has his words right. “He borrowed it with the intention of returning it once the scum-sucking warts on the toes of the trolls trolling you have been taken care of.” He stops, twists his lips, then asks, “Does that mean he’s going to kill them?”
“No,” I say with a laugh. “I don’t think that’s what he meant.” I freeze like a statue when River pulls a face that announces he thinks differently. “Do you think that’s what he meant?”
His silence has my heart beating faster than the jackhammer pounding my temples.
“No,” River eventually murmurs. “Laken’s a nice guy. He would never hurt anyone.”
“Then why did it take you so long to reply?”
I’m riling him, but he gives me an honest answer I’m not sure I deserve. “Because he’s different when it comes to the people he loves. He’ll sacrifice anything for them.” I don’t know whether to swoon or laugh when he adds, “So if the paps start dropping like flies, you didn’t see or hear anything.”
I twist the imaginary lock on my lips before throwing away the key. “My lips are sealed.”
He smiles like he did when I refused to let him clean the female toilet in the recording studio. Back then, I was the only female on staff, so there was no way I would make him clean up my mess. “If you’re feeling up to it, movie marathon at two. I reserved the entire living room. I didn’t have to pay. Knox said I could use it. Some friends are coming from rehearsal. It will be fun.”
“Sounds good,” I reply, confident now isn’t the time to be alone.
I don’t recall much of last night. No number of nips, however, could have me forgetting the slaughtering my career undertook when someone leaked footage of my rehearsal.
I’m one lousy publicity stunt away from giving up a career in music entirely.
“Okay, great. I’ll save you a seat.”
When he races out the door, I smile at his enthusiasm before sipping the caffeine he prepared for me.
What should be a heavenly awakening isn’t. The coffee tastes ghastly, and I understand why when I peer at the serving tray. Only a saltshaker sits next to a pitcher of cream. There’s no sugar to be seen.
I feel like death, so I can only imagine how bad I look, but since the comments last night assure me my crew has already seen me at my worst, I sling on a silky slip, then trudge to the kitchen for a clean mug and some sachets of sugar.
My throat dries for an entirely different reason than a hangover when I break through the kitchen's swinging door. Laken is at the cooktop, pouring pancake batter onto a skillet. He’s barefoot and wearing nothing but a pair of low-riding sleep pants. Since he’s facing away from me, I get to drink in the two dimples in his lower back I missed out on the last time I checked out his ass, as he was fully clothed.
When my throat works through a hard swallow, desperate for lubricant, its rough bob announces my presence. He spins around to face me while saying, “Just a few more minutes, River, then you…” His words trail off when he spots me standing in the entryway of the kitchen. “Hey…” His smile makes my hangover nonexistent. “Out of bacon already?”
I laugh. It is a foreign thing to hear with how wretched I felt last night. “Not yet.” I shake the coffee mug before pointing to the sugar canister on the bench. “I think that was meant to be on the serving tray instead of a massive saltshaker.”
“Shit.” He tries to hold back his smile this time around. His efforts are woeful. As his grin gleams as evidently as his impressive V muscle, he says, “Let me grab you a fresh one.” Before I can announce his job is to protect me, not serve me, he fetches a mug from an overhead cupboard, pours a generous serving of caffeinated brew, then passes it to me to finish its preparation. “Figure you’d rather guarantee you’re not about to get a mouthful of salty dishwater than relish me waiting on you hand and foot.”
I could leave once I’ve added cream and sugar to the mug, but only an idiot would give up this view. The daily rate at this hotel is astronomical because of the uninterrupted views.