Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 96292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Chapter Thirty-Five
Flynn
It’s never the right time to tell someone about your prison record. June doesn’t want her heart broken again so soon. But if I wait, she’ll feel like I should have told her. That is … if she ever speaks to me again.
As promised, we spend the next twenty-four hours in bed. Food delivery. Showers. Fluffy white robes. And so much sex I start to feel like I’m the one hallucinating. I’ve bought my fair share of condoms, but I’ve never had them delivered to a hotel room. Didn’t know that was a thing. But it is.
June’s literally my world right now. No job. No parents. No responsibilities.
“Where are you staying?” she asks, the following morning, freshly showered. We dress into our clothes from the other night.
“In a hotel not too far from the airport.”
“Got room for one more?” she asks, giving me a flirty grin while combing her fingers through her hair.
“Can I be honest?” I ask.
“Not if you’re going to break my heart.”
I roll my eyes as if it’s ridiculous, as if I’m not going to obliterate her heart when I vomit the rest of my past all over her fragile world. “Other than finding you and groveling, I didn’t have a plan when I flew out here. I don’t think living out of a hotel is an option. I need a job.” I sit on the end of the bed and put on my shoes.
“Well, I can’t leave.” She frowns. “But if you need to go back to Minneapolis, I understand.”
“I don’t want to go anywhere without you.”
June’s frown morphs into a grin as she steps toward me, resting her hands on my shoulders. “I was hoping you’d say that. How do you feel about getting an apartment with me? You can get a job. I’ll go to my parents’ house to practice my cello. I can show you around L.A. What do you think?”
I lean forward, resting my forehead between her breasts. “I think I love you.”
“You think? Flynn, I’m going to need you to do more than think you love me.” She teases her fingers through my wet hair.
“You’re pretty intimidating. On that stage the other night, I was tempted to leave and get on a plane back to Minnesota. This girl loves me?” I laugh. “I was like, no fucking way.”
She tips my chin up. “You’re my muse. Falling in love with you made me want to play again.”
“What’s so inspiring about me?”
“You’re sexy, and confident.” Her head bobs a few times. “But not overly confident. Sometimes you get nervous, and I love those tiny glimpses of your vulnerability. I love your sense of humor. Your protectiveness. You say what you feel.”
“I stick my foot in my mouth.”
June grins. “Sometimes. And you’re giving.”
“I sold your car to afford this trip.”
Her smile widens. “You’re frugal and scrappy. And I know Rupert hired you because he saw something special in you, and I want that. I want what you don’t see in yourself. That’s inspiring.”
“Well,” I turn my head and kiss the inside of her wrist, “you inspire me too.”
“Yeah?”
I snake my hands up her dress and peel her underwear down her legs. “Yeah,” I whisper.
She looks at the alarm clock on the nightstand. “We have to check out in fifteen minutes.”
“Then you’d better stop talking.”
“So …” June rocks bath and forth on her heels after we get off the train. “I’ll go back to my house, check in with my family, and pack a few things. Text me your hotel and room number. And this afternoon we’ll start apartment hunting.”
I pull her closer to me when a group of guys slides past us in front of Union Station. The breeze brings the stench of something not so fresh from the garbage bin behind us.
“Or,” I say, “we can go to my hotel and I’ll change clothes. Then we can go to your house together.”
Her lips twist, nose wrinkled, but I don’t think it’s from the rotten smell. “It’s not a good idea for you to come to the house.”
“Why? Are your parents mad at me?”
She shakes her head, glancing around the area. “No. It’s just however you felt about the Rawlings’ house, you’ll feel that times a hundred when you see their house. Technically, it’s my grandma’s house, but after my grandpa died, my parents moved in with her. And I lived there too until I moved to Minneapolis.”
“It’s a big house,” I say.
She nods.
“I figured.” I shrug.
She nervously cracks her knuckles. “It’s the definition of wealth and excess.”
“June”—I adjust her bag on my shoulder—“your grandma has cancer. Do you really think I’m going to make a big deal about her house?”
She sighs, scraping her teeth long her bottom lip. “Fine. Let’s get a ride to your hotel.”
I grin, looking down at my phone to order a ride. “I’m going to go with the flow.”