Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78016 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78016 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I ask as Kaylee steps onto the plane.
“She’s our new publicist,” Camden says, shocking the hell out of me. “I told your ass to come to the meeting.”
I swing my glare over to him. “You didn’t say it was her.”
“Should’ve come down.” He shrugs. “Nobody wanted to risk their career coming on tour with you and Gage. She was willing. We had to make a decision, so it was made.”
“Look on the bright side,” Declan says, humor in his tone. “You won’t be sleeping with our publicist on tour.”
His words hit me like a punch to the gut. I look over at Kaylee, who’s still standing at the door of the plane, waiting to see how this all plays out. My thoughts go to our past, to how much I fucking loved her, to how much she hurt me, took my heart and put it through a shredder. Then I remember the shit I’ve heard about her online. The rumors running rampant about what happened between her and Sam York.
With a smirk I hope relays how much I hate her and how much she disgusts me, I look her dead in the eyes. “Wouldn’t put it past her to try. I heard she practically raped Sam York. Better keep my door locked just in case.” Then I glance over at Camden, who’s glaring daggers my way. “You sure Layla is okay with her going with us? She might try something on you.”
Camden sighs, and Declan groans. Kaylee... She growls. Legitimately fucking growls.
“Fuck you!” she hisses. “I didn’t touch him, and I sure as hell wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole.”
I step over to her, ignoring her intoxicating scent—the same pink rose shit she used to wear when we were together, that I used to spend hours inhaling and getting lost in—and drag my gaze over the full length of her body. She’s dressed professionally in a black button-down shirt and slacks, her heels low. Her shirt is on the tighter side, clinging to her breasts, which are perky and peeking out from the top where a few buttons are undone. The material of her pants molds to every perfect curve. She might be fully dressed and not showing a single inch of skin, but I’ve already seen her body, memorized every inch of it, so I can imagine what’s underneath. What used to be mine... until she gave it to someone else.
Pain roils in my stomach at the thought, and it doesn’t take much to muster up a look of disgust. “Pretty sure you already did, sweetheart.”
“Yeah, before you became a manwhore. All those groupie sluts you’ve been sleeping with... you probably have a dozen STDs.”
So it’s going to be like that, huh? Okay... Game on.
“Let’s not forget who the head slut is,” I say, feigning nonchalance like a pro when the truth is, my body is vibrating in anger. Because who the fuck does she think she is pointing fingers? “Who fucked another man while we were still together?” I say, making her flinch. “I might be a manwhore, but you’re just a fucking whore.”
“Enough!” Camden barks. “I’m not going to play referee this entire tour.”
“Then you should’ve thought about that before you hired the woman who fucked me over.”
“What’s going on?” Layla steps out from where the bedroom is and sighs, her hand going to the bump she’s sporting. She and Camden are expecting a baby in October. A little girl. “Felix is sleeping.”
Her gaze goes to me, and while I don’t want to stress her out, I have no doubt Kaylee being on tour with us was Layla’s doing. They’re best friends and have been since our sophomore year of high school. “We’re screaming because someone thought it would be a good idea to hire her.” I don’t bother saying her name since we all know who I’m referring to. “I get she’s your best friend, but...”
“Can I talk to you alone?” Layla says, giving me a look that I can’t say no to. Like she and Kaylee, we’ve been friends since Layla moved here, and I love her like a damn sister.
I nod, and we head to a secluded area of the plane.
“I know this is hard,” she says softly, “but I need you to be okay with this for me, please.”
“Layla... you’re asking a lot.” She knows what went down all those years ago. She knows how much I loved Kaylee, how much it hurt to find out that she was all too willing to spread her legs for the asshole jock who was after her for years, who she told me she couldn’t stand. We were supposed to be forever, yet she so easily discarded me like yesterday’s trash.
“I know,” Layla says. “But she worked so hard in college to get her degree. You know all she’s ever wanted to do is marketing and advertising.” I do know that, which is why I was shocked she was a publicist and not working in the marketing/advertising department.