Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 74276 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74276 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
“Stop looking at me like you’re about to pee,” he said.
My puppy-dog eyes turned into a glare. “Don’t be a dick.”
“I’ll take you outside,” he said. “But you have to do something for me in return.”
“What? Anything. I’ll do anything.” I regretted the words as soon as they came out. His face lit up with a smile.
“I want you to give me a bath.”
“What?” I leaned away from him.
“You know what I mean, right?”
“I’m not totally sure. Like, you’re some kind of baby?”
“No. Well, yes. I want you to wash my back. And rub it a little bit.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. My muscles are a mess. I think I pulled something when I did those awesome two hundred pushups.”
“So I give you a back rub in the bathtub and that’s it?”
“And wash my feet.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Tanner.”
“Yes, just the back rub,” he said and laughed. “God, the look on your face.”
“Asshole.”
“Do we have a deal?”
I shoved my hand out to him. “Deal.”
He shook, nodded his head once, and stood. “Let’s go.”
“Right now?” I gaped at him. “I need to shower. I don’t think I’ve showered in two days.”
“Closer to three,” he said. “But you’re fine. Now or never, sweet girl.”
I jumped to my feet. “Fuck it. Let’s go.”
He led me into the main room, grabbed his gun, slipped it into his waistband, and pulled his shirt overtop it. He walked to the door, listened, open it up, looked both ways, then gestured for me to follow.
I slipped on a pair of sandals and went after him.
“Are you going to do this spy shit the whole way?” I asked.
He glared at me. “Quiet.”
I rolled my eyes.
We took the stairs. He went first, checking over each railing, listening at each landing. It took way longer than normal but we made it to the lobby without issues. He crept out ahead of me, his eyes sweeping the space.
I hurried after him, my sandals making a slapping sound on the marble floor.
The sliding doors opened ahead.
Glorious, amazing, blessed sunlight kissed my skin.
I felt like a vampire seeing the day for the first time in a thousand years.
And my god, it felt perfect.
Tanner slipped his hand into mine. I looked up at him, surprised.
He smiled and shrugged. “You said I could.”
“You’re very weird, you know that?”
“I guess.” He squeezed my hand. “Come on. Let’s go for a stroll, sweet girl.”
“Is that my new name? Sweet girl?”
“I’m trying it out.”
“I’m not a fan.”
He grinned. “I love it then.”
I let out a breath.
But I refused to let him get under my skin.
We walked along the block and turned left at Walnut. He took me to Twentieth then cut south. We walked around behind the hotel along a row of houses and small gastropubs. Couples walked dogs. Guys jogged past. Cars rolled along. Music blared from an open window and I was tempted to linger under it and listen.
But Tanner pulled me along.
“How far should we go?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Do you know this area?”
“A little,” he said. “It’s not my taste, really.”
“What’s your taste, then?”
“Passyunk’s probably my favorite street,” he said. “South Street’s fun at night with all the tourists and the drunk college kids. Old City’s fun, what with all the new museums and stuff.”
“You don’t strike me as a museum kind of person.”
“A guy kills people for a living and he can’t enjoy museums.” Tanner shook his head. “That’s just prejudice, pure and simple.”
“Poor baby,” I said.
We passed St. Patrick’s Church with its huge stone columns. The windows ended in swept arches. Potted plants needed pruning out front.
“Come here,” he said and tugged me up the steps.
“What are you doing?”
“Let’s look inside.”
“Of a church?”
He nodded and pulled me along. I climbed the stairs behind him. He tugged on the big wooden door and it creaked open. He slipped inside and I went in after him.
The lobby was cramped and quiet. The walls were smooth polished stone and the floor was black and white tile. Paintings and statues of Jesus and the Virgin Mary stared down at us.
Tanner tugged me onward. He pulled open a pair of double doors with metal flower patterns in the glass and took me into the sanctuary. Red candles flickered at Jesus’s feet. The marble was teal, green, beige, and gorgeous. Stained glass glowed to the left. Rows and rows of pews stretched toward the altar at the front. It was quiet, but I felt like my breath echoed.
“I love this place,” Tanner said quietly. He walked between the pews toward the front.
“Are we allowed in here?”
“No clue,” he said. He slipped into the front pew and sat down. A gold cross stared down at us.
I hesitated then sat next to him. “Are you, uh, religious?”
“Raised Catholic,” he said.
“Oh,” I said.
“You?”
“Same.”
“Ah, Catholicism.” He smiled a little. “Sometimes I wish I was Protestant. They get heaven without all the guilt and the hard work.”