Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
As hot as that was…and it was hot…I loved our languid, sensual explorations more. I’d never felt more in tune with a lover than I did with Dec. Moving inside him with our eyes locked was…beautiful.
I honestly loved just being with him. Talking about everything and nothing at all. Like winning the fucking Powerball.
Seriously.
We were eating dinner at a Mexican restaurant in Arizona, alternately gazing up at the stars and the sweeping views of the red rocks when Dec asked,
“If you won the lottery tomorrow, what’s the first thing you’d do?”
“Um…I’d pay off my credit card bills.”
“Boring. Try again.”
I bumped his knee under the table and smiled. “How much money is it? One million or twenty million?”
“Twenty.”
“Okay. I’d buy a house and a new truck. And twenty million is a lot, so…I’d buy you one too.”
“A house?”
“Nah, you don’t need your own house. You can live with me,” someone who sounded like me said. I widened my eyes and tried to backtrack. “It would be a gigantic house. We wouldn’t have to see each other…unless we wanted to. No biggie.”
Dec grinned. “You’re a fucking romantic.”
“I know.” I sighed sheepishly. “Forget I said that. It was stupid. So, what kind of truck do you want? Chevy? Ford? Subaru?”
He snickered. “I don’t want a Subaru. I want…a you-ba-ru.”
I almost spit out my margarita. I set the glass down and coughed half a lung up before I burst out laughing. “Oh wow. That was so bad.”
Dec wiped a tear from his eye then slid his elbows on the table and gave me a goofy smile. “I know. I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist. I still think you can do better than a house and a truck. Dream big, baby.”
“I’m a simple dude, McNamara. I don’t need much. How about you?”
“I’d travel. See the world. Twenty million might be too much, though. I’d probably give a bunch of money away.”
“Hmm. Where would you want to go first?”
“Well, I’ve never been to Australia and New Zealand. I’d probably start there. And then Bali. Are you in?”
“You’re gonna take me with you?” I picked up my margarita to give my hands something to do. This conversation made me feel oddly…vulnerable.
“Of course.”
He splayed his fingers over my knee and smiled. It was a wide, happy grin. The kind that felt like a physical act. He oozed joy and lightness. I wanted to lose myself in his magic. And more than anything, I wanted more of him. For me.
Yeah, I was falling. Hard. I’d never felt this way about anyone else. Ever. It made me crazy to think he’d been there all along and I just hadn’t seen who we were supposed to be. I hoped it wasn’t too late.
And I hoped like hell the sky didn’t come crashing down when we met up with everyone in Vegas.
“Everyone has been doing their own thing. We all needed a break. If they ask what you did, it’s ’cause they’re being polite…not suspicious. And they don’t really care, so be vague. Trust me, it’ll work,” Dec said as he pulled the strap of his beater guitar over his head and strummed a few chords.
I tapped my drumsticks together rhythmically. “When did you get that guitar? It’s so…”
“Beautiful?” he suggested.
“Old.”
He kicked my shin playfully, then hooked the heel of his boot on the lowest rung of the barstool. “Her name is Stella. I got her for Christmas when I was fifteen. I changed up my wish list after that party and told my mom I didn’t need Xbox. This was what I wanted.”
“Why Stella?”
Dec look up and grinned. “I named her after my dog.”
I tousled his hair playfully. “That’s cute. What kind of dog was she?”
“A yellow lab. Sweetest soul ever. She was my buddy through high school,” he replied as Charlie twirled in our direction. “She’d sleep under my desk and—hey, Char.”
We were backstage doing a sound check before our first show in Vegas. We’d met up with our bands earlier that afternoon, and as far as anyone else knew…it was the first time Dec and I had seen each other in almost a week. I should have been sick of him by now. On the contrary, I wasn’t. Not even close.
No one knew that we’d spent every waking minute together on our own grand adventure. Our bandmates didn’t know that the sight of him bent over his guitar made me smile and that the smell of him made my pulse race. They’d be surprised for sure, but I didn’t think they’d care. Scratch that…Justin would care.
He’d come around eventually, but it would be a scene. And the road was no place for that kind of drama. We could have that conversation in a couple of weeks when the tour was over, and we were home in LA. For now…Dec and I would have to go back to stealth mode.