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The door closes and I try to figure out why she’s acting weird.
My phone is unlocked next to me on the couch. I want to live in the moment as my fingers fly over the keyboard.
Lexi
Mr. Calloway, I’d love to continue our conversation at your earliest convenience.
Then, I see a read receiptwithout an immediate reply. He’s a savage too.
When he doesn’t respond, I know I’ve met my match.
Carlee is right; he will try to break me—I know that. I can see it in his eyes and hear it in his raw truths, but that road goes both ways.
After I shower to clear my mind, I tighten my ponytail and leave our apartment.
It takes over half an hour to get across town, but I feel like the main character when I arrive at one of the largest independent bookstores in the world, with over eighteen glorious miles of books. It’s an escape.
The red and white sign stretches around the block, and inside awaits several stories of shelves so tall that I need a stool to reach the top. It also has that old-library smell that only a book lover understands. It’s one of the things I missed most when I moved back to Texas. Although we have a small bookstore in my hometown, the selection is limited.
I stroll down the aisles and read the back of each pink-and-purple romance book I find. Some make me smile, and others intrigue me, so I can’t decide what to buy. My TBR list is already a mile long, but I settle on another billionaire romance. I find it hilarious as I carry it to the front and push the book across the dark wooden counter.
The lady scans the barcode with a grin. “This is a great one.”
Our eyes meet, and I know we’re both smut queens.Proudly.
“I bet I know how it ends,” I tell her.
“I bet youdon’t,” she says, and I’m intrigued all over again.
After I leave, I stare up at the sky, smiling as fast-moving clouds cast shadows on the ground, casting parts of the sidewalk in splotches of darkness. Sounds of cars zoom in the distance while classic music streams from businesses on book row. I overhear phone conversations of passersby on the street.
I smile, remembering why I love being here—I can be no one and someone, all at the same time.
Instead of getting on the subway, I purchase an iced coffee I can’t afford and walk to the park to read. I find a place under a tree that casts shade and look up at thediamond in the sky, wondering if Easton is there right now, looking down at me.
I chew on the corner of my lip and snap a picture with my phone from my current vantage point in the grass. The last photo in my phone is a selfie from up there.
I go back to my book, losing time while devouring the pages. The heroine and hero are on a helicopter above Seattle, and he kisses her mid-flight. While I don’t want to stop here, I head to the subway before the five-o’clock rush, or it will take me double the time to get home. I glance back at the diamond in the sky before rounding the corner.
After a train change and another twenty-minute ride, I walk into my apartment, open the windows, and return to the pages. I know they’re about to have hot, dirty sex for the very first time, and I’m giddy with excitement until I hear the loud revving of an engine.
The noise echoes off the surrounding buildings and pulls me away. I groan, annoyed, wanting to concentrate on the spice. The constant roaring goes on for thirty more seconds before I lose my shit. I grab the receipt and place it between the pages. I can’t be bothered with a bookmark.
I get up and search the street for the nuisance as I place my hands on the windowsill.
Immediately, I spot the jerk and scowl as I give the asshole awhat the fuckshrug.
The guy removes the helmet, and I’m preparing to get cursed out. But that’s when I realize it’shimin rider gear.
Easton.
I shake my head. My heart rate ticks up. He waves me downstairs, and the smile on his beautiful face makes me want to risk it all.
Every alarm bell screams that I should walk away while I can, but he’s my ultimate temptation. And like he said, we could have fun in the process. It would be the adventure of a lifetime, wouldn’t it?
I take the four flights downstairs, and he unstraps a pink helmet from the back of his bike.
“Join me,” he mutters, holding it out toward me.