Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Another knock on the glass. “Am I going to have to drag your ass in here?”
I chuckle. “I’d like to see you try.”
Lucy brushes her dress down, and, taking my arm, we walk out together.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Lucy
“It’s going to be okay,” he tells me in his husky voice, his hands making mine warm as he holds me tenderly.
Tenderly, yes, because of everything that’s happened between us.
But I can also feel the hunger there, the animal in him trying to break free.
I felt it on the balcony too. It’s always there, the potential for him to grab me and kiss me hard, for the kissing to lead to other things.
I hear the word tonight echo in my mind, and my core trembles as though in anticipation. Or nerves. It’s hard to tell.
We’re sitting in the limo, at the end of a row that’s inching forward.
Partygoers are stepping out, walking down the red carpet, and posing for the cameras.
“What if I freeze up?”
I look at him to find him smiling softly down at me.
It’s not so much a smirk anymore.
My body feels sore but in a good way, remembering what we did in the organization center. I can’t believe it was today, the kiss and everything, and maybe we’ll end the best day of my life with….
“We can leave any time you want,” he tells me.
Jane and Bryce are traveling in a separate car.
“This isn’t about us,” Bryce said before we left. “You’re the ones the media’s clamoring for. If you’re up for it, Lucy, there’s lots we can do after this. Interviews….”
He cut off when Logan looked sharply at him.
Now, Logan squeezes my hands with even more support.
“I mean it. Whenever you want. Give me a signal.”
“What, something like get me the heck out of here?”
He chuckles, leaning down and kissing my forehead gently. I hover in the moment, savoring it, really letting myself feel the affection blooming across my skin. Our limo inches forward.
We’re almost at the front of the line.
“That works,” he says.
“Won’t you be embarrassed if I mess up?” I ask.
He leans back, staring with those intense eyes, his strong jaw shaping a look of… of love. My instinct is to brand that as impossible, but what’s one more impossible thing added to the pile?
“Never,” he says. “I care more about you than a thousand PR opportunities. This isn’t about that. It’s about us…about me telling the world, fuck off, she’s mine.”
I laugh at the fierceness in his voice, but there’s also a glowing core of affection and want, a shining expanding feeling of belonging.
I can tell he means it. He wants the world to know I belong to him.
“It’s almost time,” I murmur softly, stating the obvious.
He leans down, kissing my cheek, his breath caressing me. “I could ask the driver to keep going. We could go anywhere.”
“Is that what you want?”
“Hell, no,” he says fiercely, his hand on my leg, squeezing as though letting go would be impossible for him. “I want to show you off to the world. I want everybody to know you’re mine.”
I laugh softly. “I think they already saw that.”
“They saw us kissing,” he says, nodding. “An opportunistic pap took care of that. But they don’t know we’re together, really together.”
“Forever,” I whisper as the car comes to a stop.
He leans up forward, looking at me with all that support and patience.
I know he’s telling the truth. We could leave if I asked.
Outside, I hear the cameras snapping, voices raised, flashes going off. But then I listen closer and realize the flashes going off are in my head. My nerves are ablaze, and suddenly it’s like some 1930s movie, the cameras ultra-loud, as I sit here and tell myself to get my freaking act together.
I can tell how badly Logan wants this. Wants to make my dreams come true. Declare I’m his and his alone.
“Okay,” I say, taking a breath. “Let’s go.”
He climbs out of the car, then reaches down and offers me his hand.
The second I take it and climb out after him, the cameras are on us, flashing like glinting crystals, dozens of them aimed at us.
My heart is pounding as Logan places his hand on the small of my back, leading me down the carpet.
I squeeze onto his hand, focusing on walking steadily in my heels. They’re short, but I’m not used to dressing so glamorously.
The red carpet feels surreal under my footsteps, like it might disappear any second.
Finally, he turns and wraps his arm around me.
We face the cameras together, my heartbeat pounding, my head rushing, my cheeks feeling like they’re going to turn beet-red, and my smile so tight it actually hurts my face.
It’s an experience unlike any other, but then I glance aside to find Logan looking down at me.
And we’re walking, moving away, into the upscale hotel.