Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 117415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
“Really? Will you play it for me tomorrow?”
“Hmm, maaaybe.” I chuckle. “Where are we meetin’ up?”
“I was thinking, um …” He lets out a tiny sigh, stopping.
He’s so cute when he’s indecisive. “Hey, listen, anywhere I can drive my ass to in a rental sounds perfect to me. You can suggest meetin’ up at a gas station and I’m there.”
“First off, no, and gross. Second, um …” He clears his throat. “I was thinking … since I know who you are now and all of that … maybe I should … finally show you who I really am.”
I lift an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“I haven’t lied. Not exactly. I just haven’t shared the full truth. You don’t really have the complete picture of who I am. Not from just your tiny experience of me behind the counter at an ice cream shop. I … more or less do that for fun. I never fully explained the, um … big family business I keep mentioning.”
I chuckle. “What is this business? Your family part of the mob or somethin’?” When he says nothing, I go silent, face flattening. “Uh, your family’s not part of the mob, are they?”
“No, no. It’s more … well … maybe it’s just better you see. Only if you want to take a trip back to Spruce tomorrow. You’re an hour south tonight, I think you said, right?”
“Actually just half an hour from our new hotel … and if I make liberal use of my lead foot.”
“Don’t get in trouble!” he hisses at me.
“Too late. Apparently my ass is already in all sorts of trouble with you, Mr. Mob Boss’s Son.”
“I’m not in a—” He takes a breath. “Okay. You want the truth? My family’s business is … very well-off. Let’s put it that way. And I’m the heir. Like, to a large local business.”
He doesn’t say it proudly or egotistically. It sounds more like a burden to him. I’m surprised by his confession. I just thought him a small-town guy with small-town dreams, a lot like I was growing up in the suburbs outside of Dallas. Does he even know that about me? I was likely afraid to share too many details, fearing the dots could be connected someday, considering how dang smart he is.
We’ve both been holding back.
“Whatever you want to share about yourself and your family,” I tell him, “I’m all—” There’s a werewolf howl in the hall followed by a laugh and something—or someone—slamming heavily on the floor. “—ears,” I finish with a wince.
“Sounds like a party over there.”
“It is. In the hotel. We’ll probably get kicked out. I don’t envy the floor below us. Think your favorite band Soul Biter is involved. Is it a full moon tonight, by chance?”
“They’re not my—” TJ scoffs into the phone. I chuckle. “It was Miranda’s fault I was wearing a Soul Biter shirt. She’s convinced Skeleton or whoever is into her.”
“Oh, the guitarist? I know him. Odd guy, keeps to himself.”
“I’m not getting involved.”
“Why not? Can’t we play matchmaker? Hey, you mentioned a thing between the merch vendors, too.” I slide my legs off the bed and toss myself on it instead, right next to Glorious and an empty plate that once had a full-ass serving of loaded nachos I devoured an hour ago. I stare up at the ceiling. “Is this your secret thing, TJ? Shootin’ Cupid’s arrows at everyone around you?”
“Apparently.” He pauses. “Hopefully the first one I fired is still working a miracle.”
“You mean with your college buddy and his city in France?”
He chuckles. “That’s one thing I really appreciate about you. I only ever have to say something once, and you remember.”
“Only if it’s somethin’ to do with you. Or lyrics.”
I hear him shift around, perhaps lying on a bed, too, before he takes a breath and says, “I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”
I tuck the phone between my neck and shoulder and rest my hands on my chest. “I’m curious to see the real TJ. The full picture. Are you … ready for me to see it?”
He takes a shaky breath. Huh, this is a bigger deal to him than I realized. “Yes,” he finally answers. “I am. The real, full thing.”
“I think your first arrow went into me, by the way.”
He goes silent. Then: “Hope that one works a miracle, too.”
I grin—then lift up my head at the sound of someone shouting and running past my door. You’d think we hired kids losing their minds over getting to stay up past their bedtimes. “Can’t wait for tomorrow either,” I say back, gazing at the hallway, just before something crashes loudly followed by exploding laughter.
I don’t bother investigating what it is.
It’s in the morning that I get a text from TJ with directions. I leave a note for Ian he’s not likely to get for another hour—hey, he did tell me to let him know next time I take a fieldtrip—then sneak past the crew eating breakfast in the lobby, snatch a car from the rental place next door, and make my way off to Spruce under the golden midmorning sun.