Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
No. You’ve been living there all this time.
Now you’re dragging her in with you.
That thought is like a slug to the jaw. The impetus I need to do the right thing and tear my mouth off hers, but now I’m looking down into her flushed, beautiful, drowsy face. She’s the picture of overwhelmed, and Jesus…she’s looking up at me like I’m her hero.
“Don’t do that,” I growl at her.
“Do what?” she murmurs, her voice dreamlike.
“Look at me like I’m a knight on a white horse. All I’ll do is trample you.”
Her green eyes dance from one side of my face to the other. “You don’t scare me.”
My heart takes an elevator to my mouth. I don’t know how this happened. I don’t know how this twenty-year-old girl who I’ve never met before tonight can have such a profound impact on me. I don’t like it. I don’t want her under my skin. I want to fester in my self-imposed loneliness and cynicism. That’s why I lean in and say the worst thing I can think of to drive her away. To send her running, because I…
I don’t know if I could run from her.
“Brave girl, are you? That’s good because the rumors about my cock are true.” My laughter is ugly, and I hate the way it dulls the light in her eyes. “You’ll need to be brave when I fold you in half and use you like just another easy cum dump tonight.”
The slap across my face echoes through the tour bus.
But the only thing I hear is the pained sob in the back of her throat.
The only thing I see is her remaining admiration of me crumble.
Of course, the tour bus arrives at the hotel at that very moment and June bolts down the walkway before I can grab her around the waist. “June Bug. Wait.”
She doesn’t listen. Doesn’t stop.
She’s off the bus as soon as the driver opens the door, running straight into the lobby of the hotel. I stare after her, wondering why I feel so fucking devastated when her opinion of me shouldn’t matter. I forced her to back off. That’s what I wanted, right?
I look down and realize she left her purse behind, she was in such a hurry.
There’s something wedged in behind her wallet. A notebook.
Before I can stop myself, I take out the little book and open it up, my stomach bottoming out when I see pictures…
…pictures of me glued to the pages. My name doodled inside of hearts, alongside June’s, at least a thousand times. Worst of all, there are little diary entries about how we’re going to meet and fall in love when my tour bus breaks down. How sweet I’m going to be to her. How I’m going to be her first
First…what?
Not lover.
No, please don’t let that be true.
Please.
I did not just say that vile thing to a virgin.
A virgin who has obviously idolized me for…for a long damn time. Some of the pictures in this notebook are from my late twenties, early thirties.
My goddamn throat has closed to the size of a straw.
What have I done?
When I glance up, June is standing in front of me. The rest of the bus has cleared of crew and she’s obviously returned to get her purse. She wouldn’t be able to check into the hotel, otherwise. She’s red faced and horrified to find me holding her notebook.
Reading it.
When did she start making this thing? It’s beat up and old.
An ode to…me.
This man who just bastardized every feeling she’s ever had for me.
“June…” I begin, a weight pressing down on my chest.
“Stop. It’s fine.” She snatches her belongings out of my hands. “It doesn’t mean anything. None of it was…real. It’s all just…so stupid. Forget you ever saw it.”
She grabs her possessions and runs.
Cemented to the seat, all I can do is watch her go.
FIVE
June
This is another level of embarrassment.
Beyond any kind of humiliation that I’ve ever experienced in my life.
And I was a weird kid, so I have a lot of embarrassing moments that run through my mind in the middle of the night, refusing to fade. Deke finding my scrapbook will forever be the worst of them. God, the complete and total astonishment on his face.
I will never forget it.
I can feel Deke’s gaze land on me the second he walks into the ritzy hotel lobby, but I resolutely focus on my task and avoid looking at him, as much as possible. He sits in the waiting area with some of the roadies and musicians, his hat pulled down low. Trying and failing to blend in. Thankfully, it’s the middle of the night and there aren’t many people in the lobby to harass him for photos or an autograph.
Forcing a smile at the clerk, I check Deke into his penthouse suite—under a code name, of course—and ask them to send room service with a bucket of cold beer and a selection of sandwiches to his room asap. I arrange to have his luggage taken to the top floor, as well. And he’s not going to like the next part, but I ask them to include some multivitamins with his room service tray, because I doubt he’s getting the essential nutrients from a steady diet of Jack Daniels.