Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
“Good luck!” I call out, joining the crowd of well-wishers. “And congratulations!”
“Do you need me to go home and get your bag, Bea?” a voice calls from behind me.
It’s her, I know it without even turning around. Flamingo Pajama’s husky voice is nearly as sexy as her bass playing.
“No, we brought it with us, just in case!” Beatrice calls back, “But thank you! Love you!”
“Love you, too.” I turn to see Clover setting her bass aside as she rises from the couch. She lifts an arm to wave, only for her leg to buckle beneath her.
I’m still several feet away, but I don’t hesitate. I dive toward her, the way I do when the girls are about to faceplant at the playground. I don’t always get to them in time, but I’d say I have at least a fifty percent success rate.
Tonight, it looks like the coin flip is on my side.
I swoop in at the last second, wrapping an arm around Clover’s waist, pulling her against me before she can tumble into the table between the couches. Her breath rushes out as her palms come to my chest, and I steady us both with a hand on her hip.
The hand on her hip is necessary, it really is.
It becomes less necessary after she gets her legs underneath her, but I’m too distracted by the smile spreading across her face to move it.
“Next Door Neighbor Guy,” she says, her eyes dancing. “Hey. What are you doing here?”
“Saving bassists in distress, I guess,” I say, returning her grin. “I heard you playing when I was walking up. You’ve got skills, Flamingo Pajamas.”
Her smile widens. “Thanks. And thanks for the save. Again.”
“Anytime,” I murmur, my voice huskier than it should be.
I clear my throat, forcing myself to release her and take a step back.
“You okay, Clover?” the guy with dreads asks, shooting me a sideways glance.
“Yeah, I’m fine, Zee,” she says, fetching a cane leaning against the couch cushions before moving past me. “Tell your brother thanks for letting me borrow his bass. This was fun.”
“No worries,” he says. “See you at the club next Friday?”
“Maybe. Depends on my new job. I’m not clear on my hours yet, but I’ll let you know.” She nods for me to follow her. “Come on.”
I blink, but don’t hesitate to trail her down the steps. “Where are we going?”
“I don’t know,” she says, “but we can’t stay here. Five dollars, Charlotte is shutting the party down as we speak.”
Before I can reply, Charlotte sticks her head out the front door, calling, “Sorry, guys, gonna have to call it an early night. I have to wrap things up here and get to the hospital.”
Clover grins at me over her shoulder as she starts across the grass. “Told ya. Now you owe me five bucks.”
I arch a brow, even more charmed than I was the first time we met. “I don’t remember taking that bet.”
She shrugs. “Not sure that matters. What matters is, where can you buy me a drink for five dollars that isn’t too far from here? I promised Beatrice I wouldn’t join the crowd at the hospital, but there’s no way I’m sleeping until I know that giant baby is out of her safely.” At the edge of the sidewalk, she adds, “She’s my roommate. But like, more like a sister than a roommate, you know? And Blue is basically my big brother, so…where to?”
She looks up at me expectantly.
Thankfully, my weary brain finally wakes the fuck up and grabs the flirting baton she’s extending my way.
“McLeary’s Pub,” I say. “Obviously. Open until two, ice cold drafts, the best stale buttered popcorn in the city, and right around the corner.”
Clover makes a happy sound, I also like far more than I should. “I do love me some stale popcorn. Let’s do it.”
I nod over my shoulder. “I’ll drive. My truck’s at the end of the block.”
“That’s good,” she says, smiling as she falls in beside me. “Because I still haven’t saved up enough for another car and rode here with Bea’s mom.”
“Then, you’ll have to let me drive you home after, too. That way you won’t have to worry about finding a cab after midnight.”
“Sounds good,” she says. “I’m Clover, by the way. In case you forgot, Dean.”
“I didn’t, Clover,” I say, holding her gaze a beat too long. “Not for a second.”
And that’s how it starts, a night that I’ll look back on again and again in the weeks to come and wonder what the fuck I was thinking.
All the clues were there, all the signs.
I really should have known better.
But even if I had…
Well, I’m not sure it would have made a difference.
Some things—like beautiful women with trouble in their eyes—are impossible to resist.
Even when you know they’re completely off-limits.