Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 136025 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136025 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
“I love him,” Sana swoons.
Same.
“Well, I used to,” she sighs. “I don’t know. That article about him and Jane Cobalt made me feel…weird.”
Izzy nudges Sana’s arm. “It’s fake. Celebrity Crush already issued an apology, and so did three other tabloids who ran with the fake story. I think one of them is even getting sued.”
That’s the work of the Hale and Cobalt lawyers.
“It’s been entertaining,” I say casually, “but we need to grab our bags—”
“Thatcher to Farrow.” A strict voice blares through my earpiece that hangs on my shoulder. Audible to Maximoff and both girls. “Farrow, are you in the hotel with Maximoff—” I quickly decrease the radio volume, but not fast enough.
Shit.
“Oh…my God.” Sana has her hands to her mouth. Both girls stare intently at Maximoff’s back. “Is that…?” Tears flood her big eyes, upset. Because she knows he heard every negative thing she said. “I didn’t…I…”
I hang back, already knowing what he’ll do.
Maximoff hurriedly spins around, drops his hood, and raises a hand. “Hey, it’s alright, don’t cry, don’t cry.”
Sana bursts into a sob. “I didn’t mean…” Her knees buckle while she cries, and Izzy catches her co-worker’s elbows. Maximoff sprints around the counter, and I follow close behind.
I fit my earpiece in, but I don’t worry about the volume yet. Instead, I take out my phone and tap into an electronic contract.
Maximoff crouches to Sana. “I know you didn’t mean it.”
She mumbles something about hurting Maximoff Hale and how Jane Cobalt is his best friend.
He shakes his head. “No, you didn’t hurt me. I’m okay. I’m okay. You don’t need to cry.” She’s still sobbing, and that’s affecting him.
He glances briefly at me, his chest constricted.
I squat next to him. “Sana, he’s smiling. He’s not upset.”
Izzy wipes her friend’s tears with her blazer sleeve. “He doesn’t look mad at all, Sana.”
She sniffs, but she stares at the carpet. “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean…”
“I know. I understand. It’s okay,” Maximoff says, and he asks if he can touch her. When she agrees, he rubs her arm in comfort.
As Sana gathers her emotions, we all stand.
He hugs the girl, then Izzy. And I describe the NDA in detail that they each need to sign. No photos posted online. No alerting the media that Maximoff and his family are here. After they sign the electronic contracts, Thatcher pushes through the revolving door.
Aimed for me.
We back away from the counter and stop him midway. I open my mouth, but he already cuts me off, “Turn up your radio volume.”
My jaw tics. “That wasn’t a priority—”
“It is,” he snaps, and then raises a leveled hand to Maximoff. “I’m sorry, but I need to talk to Farrow in private. It’s security—”
“He can hear,” I cut off Thatcher. “I don’t give a shit.” All three of us head towards the revolving doors, the two girls unable to hear us.
Thatcher towers over me, and I rest my shoulder blades on the wall, uncaring about the whole domineering tactic. He begins to scold me for not waking him up before we left the bus. Apparently that was a rule since he’s keeping an eye on Maximoff, too.
“Thatcher.” Maximoff draws his attention. “I told Farrow not to wake you up.”
“No he didn’t,” I tell Thatcher and shoot Maximoff a cold glare. He’s never lying to cover for me. I can’t be the reason the best parts of Maximoff change. Ever since we kissed in front of his parents, I promised myself to protect the good in him.
His honesty isn’t dying by my hand.
Thatcher’s strict gaze pings between me and my boyfriend before landing on me. “Try harder or there’ll be repercussions for every infraction.”
I force myself not to roll my eyes. “Sure.”
He leaves at that, and we’re left alone in the lobby, the girls disappeared in the back room. Maximoff adjusts his sunglasses. They’re hurting his nose.
“I’m fine.” He lowers his voice. “I guess it’s good to know people are still talking about the rumor.” His sarcasm is clear.
“It took her ten other comments, including calling your uncle a DILF before she even mentioned it,” I whisper. “I’d say that’s a success.”
“Yeah.” He nods, more assured. “I think the tour is going to help.”
“Me too.” I sweep his tensed build, stress weighing heavier on his shoulders. My muscles burn because I want to step nearer and wrap my arms around my boyfriend. And just hold him for a second.
Maximoff takes one foot forward, but he stops himself. Craving the same thing.
13
MAXIMOFF HALE
Finally in my hotel room with Farrow, I prep in the bathroom for something I haven’t tried since I was eighteen.
I’m a pro at sex. But being a bottom is new for me, and there’s a pretty good chance I’ll be a terrible lay.
I try to shelve any doubts and just focus on the fantasy. Of Farrow Redford Keene—a twenty-seven-year-old sexily tattooed guy—driving his cock into me.