Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 96712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
As if on cue, the doorbell rings. “You put some clothes on, and I’ll get the door,” I say and watch as his ass disappears down a hallway.
The realtor does a double take when I let her in.
“Matt’s in the bedroom,” I explain awkwardly.
“Oh, right. You’re …”
I force my public-ready smile—the one I had to learn as a kid to stand by Dad’s side at all his campaigning rallies. “Noah Huntington.”
I shake her hand, but she continues to eye me warily. I want to ask her why she’s staring at me like that.
She moves about the space, as if she’s the one looking to buy it. “We shouldn’t be long here. You probably won’t have to leave if you don’t want to. Although, it can be intimidating if the owner’s in the home while we show people through.”
“Don’t need to worry. We have plans.”
Her smile is tight, and I have no idea what her issue is, but when Matt comes out of the bedroom, it becomes clear.
Something’s wrong.
Matt approaches, wrapping an arm around my waist and bringing his mouth down on mine for a soft kiss. I melt against him, not caring about the witness in the room, and push my tongue into his mouth.
When the realtor clears her throat, Matt pulls away. “Ready to go, babe?”
I purse my lips at the show he’s putting on for her. “Uh, sure.”
He grabs my hand, tells the realtor to lock up when she leaves as we’ll be gone all day, and then drags me out of his apartment and to the elevator bank.
Once there, he lets go of my hand. “Sorry about that. While I was getting dressed, I got a phone call from Damon.” Matt shoves his phone at me. “The more people who see us together, the better.”
On Matt’s phone, there’s a link to an article about us.
Trouble in Paradise or Publicity Stunt?
“They’re onto us? How?”
“Damon thinks there could be a leak in his office—like with the photographers at the cruise ship terminal—or it could be the fact we left the cruise early and I’ve been spotted here while you’re in New York. It might be speculation for entertainment value, or it could be we’re not doing a good enough job of convincing people this is real.”
“So, what’s the plan?” I ask.
“We have to go out in public more. We’ve been hiding, apparently.” Matt pockets his phone. “Whose car are we taking?”
“I fought an old lady for a spot. I’m not moving my car. I also don’t know Philly.” My phone vibrates in my pocket, and when I dig it out, Damon’s name flashes across the screen. “It’s Damon. Did you tell him I was here?”
Matt shakes his head and holds the elevator door for me while I answer.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“You busy? I need you to get to Philly for some photo ops with Matt.”
“Uh … umm, yeah, I’m already on my way. Matt just called.”
There’s a pause. “That was fast. Okay, so I’ll tip off some paparazzi in an hour or so … unless you’re going to be there sooner?”
He’s so onto me. “I’ll talk to you in an hour.” I quickly end the call. “I think he knows I’m already here.”
Matt tries to suppress a smile. “Scared about getting in trouble from the big bad Damon?”
“He did tell us to stop …”
“It’s cute you’re scared of him. We’re not doing anything wrong.”
“Right,” I mumble and get into the elevator and lean against the back wall. We aren’t doing anything wrong. We’re both grownups. “Hey, maybe I’m just psychic and knew you’d need me today.”
“Sure, let’s go with that and ignore it was actually your dick that brought you here.”
“Fine then, maybe my dick is psychic.”
“With crystal balls?”
“Wanna touch them? If you rub them, you get a wish.”
Matt laughs. “I think that’s a lamp, not a crystal ball.”
“You should try anyway.”
Okay, so maybe we aren’t complete grownups, but that doesn’t mean this … causal thing, or whatever we want to call it, is a bad idea. Even if my gut tells me otherwise.
“You should stop joking around before I take you up on the offer and I’m photographed in yet another compromising position. Damon’s going to tip off some paparazzi, and they’ll no doubt be following us.”
“Yeah, he said that. We have an hour leeway to do what we want before they’ll find us.”
Matt releases a loud breath and plays with the hem of his shirt. “Do you still want to see my Philadelphia?”
“Is that a euphemism?”
My joke has its desired effect. He loses the tension in his shoulders and slumps next to me against the wall.
“We can go see the Liberty Bell if you’re not up to—”
Matt reaches for my hand and interlaces our fingers. “I know one place we can go.”
We’re in the car for over half an hour before he pulls into the parking lot of the very last place I’d expect him to bring me.