Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
“If you shave for me,” she said for his ears alone, her tone playful now, “I’ll let you help me decide what I should wear for the first day of my new mentorship tomorrow.”
He dismantled that statement piece by piece, examining every part of it.
“Hold up. You’re starting a new mentorship tomorrow?”
She nodded, a smile blooming across her mouth. “My instructors told me they were trying to land me a mentorship with the first chair harpist at BSO.” Boston Symphony Orchestra. “I got the email while I was in Paris. They are going to take me on.”
Sig tried not to stare at those lips. Failed. “When were you going to tell me this was in the works?”
“You’re busy with the season.”
He scoffed. “On day five of Hell Week, you texted me that you wanted French toast, so I brought you out for French toast, in between practices. In a sweaty T-shirt and shorts.” He tamped down on the urge to lean down and kiss her forehead. “You know damn well I’m never too busy for you, Chloe. Why really didn’t you tell me?”
Her smile dipped. “Because I’m nervous and I was thinking of backing out.”
Again, he struggled not to reach for her. “Okay. We’ll talk it out.”
“All right, Bearcats fam,” called the arena’s maintenance guy, Augie. “We’re turning the lights off and going home, if you don’t mind making your way to the parking lot.”
“Night, Augie,” Burgess boomed to Sig’s right, throwing the man a salute. “Thanks.”
Everyone followed the captain’s lead, shouting their thanks at the maintenance man, while filing out into the team parking lot. Once they reached Sig’s truck, Chloe exchanged a hug with Tallulah and Lissa. Sig fist-bumped Burgess. And then Sig was boosting Chloe into the passenger seat of his truck, wincing as he always did when the damaged leather touched her thighs. “Don’t even start grumbling about a new truck. Not again,” she said, preemptively, checking her appearance in the rearview, her pinkie dragging a U-shape beneath one of her eyes. “This one is perfect.”
It physically burned to drive her around in this beat-up old thing. She used to have a designated town car and a chauffeur, for fuck’s sake. “It’s time for a new one.”
She clicked her seat belt into place. “Only if you want to find me handcuffed to the steering wheel.”
Sig glanced over his shoulder at the parking lot to judge how alone they were. Whether or not anyone was watching. When he found them to be out of everyone’s view, he ducked into the truck, bringing his forehead an inch from Chloe’s and listening to her quick intake of breath. Memorizing the way she closed her eyes, her lashes making spiky patterns on her cheeks. “Are you implying you own a pair of handcuffs, Chloe?”
“Maybe,” she said on an exhale—and he wished he could feel that breath on his entire body. Against his chest, below his waist. Everywhere.
Sig nudged her forehead with his own. “I’m not in the mood to play games after four days without seeing your beautiful face. Give me a better answer.”
He could see his words absorbing into her skin. Could sense the intake. “Are you implying I might have cuffs for recreational purposes?”
“Do you?”
“When would I manage to use handcuffs with a man?” She wet her lips, nearly grazing his mouth with her tongue. So close but so far. “I can’t go home with anyone when you always show up at the bar to take me home yourself.”
“I promised to look out for you.”
“You might have taken that responsibility a little too far, don’t you think?”
Sig’s heart paused midbeat. “Do you want me to stop?”
She shook her head rapidly. “No.”
His heart kicked back into gear. God, he wanted to ruin that pink lip gloss. Kiss her until it was smeared all over his mouth, chin, and tongue. “Okay then.”
“Okay then,” she breathed unevenly. “Just so we’re clear.”
Break. Now. Time for a break.
Jaw clenched tight enough to snap, Sig removed himself from Chloe’s space and ducked back out of the truck. He put his hands on his hips and paced in a slow circle, attempting to bring his pulse back to a normal rate. He’d only managed it slightly by the time he got into the driver’s side and fired up the engine.
Being this close with Chloe on a near constant basis was torture at its most pure and he would volunteer for it until the day he died.
No one was going to have the honor of being Chloe’s companion but him.
But how long could they go on like this without giving in?
Sig didn’t have an answer to that. But he knew one thing very well.
He had to figure out a way for them to be together.
There simply wasn’t another option. Chloe ending up with someone else?
Not a fucking chance.