Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
“Are you going to make me help you unpack if I do?” he asks.
“Yeah, but—”
“No thanks. I’ll stay in my posh hotel and order room service and watch TV in my boxers.”
I snort. Can’t say as I blame him.
We push through the final set of doors, the evening air cool and refreshing after hours inside. The parking lot is mostly empty, the sun dipping low enough to throw long shadows across the pavement. My black F-150 sits where I left it this morning, parked near the edge of the lot. I have a Porsche too but today felt like a truck day.
And leaning against the driver’s side door like she owns the damn thing is Juno Paxton.
Her arms are crossed over her chest, one ankle hooked casually atop the other, dark hair in waves over her shoulders. She’s not holding a camera, and Evan is nowhere to be seen.
Arch slows beside me, his mouth curling into an entertained grin. “Well,” he says, nodding in her direction, “looks like you’re in trouble with the teacher.”
I don’t stop walking.
Instead, I reach into my pocket and hit the alarm button on my key fob.
The truck erupts in a blast of noise—horn blaring, lights flashing—and Juno startles hard enough to push off the door with a yelp, hands flying out instinctively as she stumbles back a step. Satisfaction fills me from head to toe, and I kill the alarm immediately, a smirk tugging at my mouth before I can stop it.
Arch lets out a bark of laughter. “Jesus, Hale. You’re an ass.”
I can’t help but chuckle.
Juno recovers quickly, shooting me a look that’s equal parts annoyance and reluctant amusement. “Funny guy,” she says dryly.
And the fact that she didn’t get pissed impresses me.
I stop a few feet in front of her, Arch hovering nearby. “What do you want?”
No pleasantries. No games. I’m tired, hungry and not in the mood to negotiate.
She spares a glance at Arch, then back to me. “I want your time.”
I shake my head once. “Not happening.”
“Come on, Hale,” she drawls, offering me a smile that I bet would make most men crumble. “I’m not the enemy here.”
I sigh, the sound pulled from somewhere deep in my chest. “I’m busy.”
“Tomorrow?” she presses. “Later this week?”
“Going to be busy forever.”
Arch shifts beside me, clearly enjoying this far more than he should. “I’m available,” he says cheerfully, raising his hand. “Right now, actually. We could grab a drink.”
Juno turns her attention to him, eyes lighting playfully. “I’ll get to you eventually,” she says with a wink.
Is she… flirting with him?
Arch places a hand over his heart, drawing my attention. “I’m deeply wounded.”
“We’ll explore that trauma later.” She looks back at me, focus snapping into place. “What’s your hesitation?”
She’s definitely not flirting with me as I take in her cool and assessing gaze.
I hesitate long enough to regret it. “Listen… I don’t like the camera. Surely you’ve clued into that by now. You’ve got plenty of other guys to pick apart, so why don’t you go harass them?”
Her expression softens—not pity, not triumph, just acknowledgment. “You’re going to have to get over that,” she says. “The camera’s going to be on you all year. I’m not going to stop asking for an interview, and eventually, you know Rowe will force you to do it.”
I glance away, jaw tightening. I know that’s exactly what’s going to happen, but I can put it off long enough that maybe she’ll get distracted by someone else. The idea of being watched—really watched—for months on end sits like grit under my skin.
Having her pretty eyes on me for a one-on-one interview… that’s too disconcerting to even acknowledge.
“Give me fifteen minutes,” she says, stepping closer, and I can smell her perfume. It’s a very subtle floral, which surprises me. She doesn’t seem the flowery type. “Give me a chance to convince you it won’t hurt if you participate.”
I look at her, really look this time. She’s insanely beautiful and that’s the first thing any guy with a pulse is going to notice, but I look past that. She’s steady, confident without being aggressive, and waiting for my answer without pushing further.
Yeah, it’s sexy.
“No,” I say.
And then I step around her, heading for my truck.
“I’m not going away,” she calls to my retreating form.
I don’t respond.
“I’ve got your back, Hale,” Arch says, amusement laced through his words. “Taking one for you.” Then I hear him address Juno. “Come on. I’ll buy you a beer and I’ll commiserate with you over what an ass Crosby is being.”
That makes me chuckle and I’m not concerned in the least that he’ll say anything about me that’s harmful. I’ve got nothing to hide when it comes down to it. I simply don’t want my life—plain and boring as it is—on display.
I unlock the door and climb inside without another glance, shutting it with a solid thud. As I pull out of the lot, I catch sight of them in the rearview mirror—Arch gesturing animatedly, Juno listening, smiling.