Total pages in book: 190
Estimated words: 181992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 181992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
“I wouldn’t have cared if you had thought me too curvy—I’d have considered it your problem.” I was happy with my body as it was. “I just didn’t like that you didn’t tell him to shove it. Though I get now why you didn’t.” I bit into the inside of my cheek. “Have any other reporters sought you out recently?”
“No. But it’s never a surprise when they do. They have a habit of showing up. Usually whenever Michael Bale is suddenly a hot online top.” He gave an aloof shrug, but there was really nothing to be aloof about.
I had to admit, I was curious about how it must have been for Dax to grow up with Bale as a step-grandfather; curious about how it had affected his life and family—I only really knew the gist of it. But I’d never asked, because I didn’t want him to think I was interested in a, “Ooh, tell me all the nitty, gritty details, I find it fascinating” way. Like I didn’t appreciate how difficult it must have been for him.
I cast him a weak smile. “I’d hug you in sympathy, but you’d rear back from the affection in horror, so I’m going to settle for a shoulder pat.” I gently patted his left shoulder three times.
Mirth bled into his eyes. “Now that that’s over with, get back upstairs. You’re supposed to be resting. If you weren’t sick, I’d paddle your ass for thinking I might be in agreement with any of what Blum said out there.”
I straightened to my full height. “If you come near my butt with a paddle—”
“You’ll take what I give you,” he finished. “And you’ll enjoy it. That I can promise you.”
“It’s a promise you wouldn’t be able to deliver on.”
“Don’t be so sure.” He tipped his chin toward the stairs. “Go before I decide you’re well enough to handle it now.”
“I’m going. But I’m telling you, butt-paddling—or whatever it’s called—will never turn out to be my thing.”
“We’ll see.”
“No. No, we won’t,” I asserted. But he only smiled, the dick.
Chapter Twenty
Opening the toilet stall’s flimsy lock almost a fortnight later, I crossed to one of the sinks. Like the others, it was grimy and boasted weird-looking stains—much like the tiled floor. I felt my nose wrinkle.
The restroom at the gas station I frequented was not my favorite place, but my bladder had been screaming at me for release, so I’d taken a pit-stop on my way home. Too much coffee, I thought.
Not wanting to rest my purse on the wet counter, I kept it hooked over my shoulder as I washed my hands. The sound of water splattering against porcelain blended with the gurgling of a toilet and the weird noise coming from the exposed plumbing beneath the counter.
God, it reeked in here. Reeked of pee, vomit, bleach, and full-on shit. It didn’t help matters that the soap was unscented.
Catching sight of my reflection in the rusted mirror, I wasn’t pleased to find that I looked as tired as I felt. It had been a long-ass day that had involved more meetings than usual, and the latter one had lasted longer than expected.
At least I wasn’t sick anymore. I had unfortunately passed it on to several others, including Alicia and Sabrina. Dax, however, didn’t catch it. No, much as he’d insinuated, his immune system was made of pretty stern stuff.
Switching off the faucet, I shook my wet hands and then walked to the toilet paper dispenser. It was out of paper. Awesome. I tried the hand-drier, my lips thinning when it came to life with a weak whir of sound and did nothing more than cause air to flutter over my skin.
Eventually giving up on the drier, I left the restroom. The closer I headed to where I’d parked my car, the heavier the scents of gasoline, exhaust, motor oil, and sun-warmed pavement became. I had no complaints, since they chased the restroom-smells from my nose.
Much as I loved the summer, I couldn’t say I lamented that we’d crept into September. For one thing, it wasn’t quite as hot. For another, it would be October soon. I was a big fan of Halloween.
Rather than head straight to my vehicle, I grabbed two thin paper towels from the dispenser near the gas pumps and dried off my damp hands. Around me, engines idled, gas gurgled through hoses, and music filtered out of open car windows. But I still easily heard the bell above the station’s door chime.
I looked up as a trio of laughing teenage boys piled out holding drinks and snacks. I momentarily went very still, a curse hovering on the tip of my tongue. Because one of the boys was Blaise.
Not wanting a scene, I prayed he wouldn’t notice me. But apparently the universe was not on my side today. He did a double-take as his eyes caught mine, the amusement draining from his expression in a rush. His gaze chilled, his body stiffened, and his jaw set into a hard, unforgiving line.