Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 72945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
I’d get to work with Tony freaking Cowan, one of my movie idols and the man that practically got me into this business to begin with.
His book, Being the Water, sits on my nightstand and I dip into it all the time when I’m feeling creatively empty or frustrated.
The man’s a genius, to say the least.
I thought this would be amazing and fun and exciting—
Instead, it’s mostly sitting around the coffee shop next door to his apartment building and making plans to make plans to do something.
But never actually doing anything.
I stop at the pharmacy to run a quick errand then park down the block and walk over. The coffee place is called Shot Through the Heart and it’s basically the same as every other little cafe in Philly, except Baptist is friendly with the owner and we have a reserved table in the back. I step inside and breathe in the smell of espresso, muffins, and bagels, and grin at the girl working the register.
“Morning, Blair,” she chimes. “The usual?”
“Please and thank you.” I lean against the counter as Zoe starts to make my drink, just a basic flat white. “How are things here? Is my boss around?”
Zoe rolls her eyes and her short blonde bob swirls in the morning light. “He’s not in yet.”
“God, typical.” She hands me the drink and I take a sip. “How much?”
“I’ll put it on Baptist’s tab.”
“You’re truly my favorite person alive.”
“I’m your caffeine dealer, so yeah, duh.”
I laugh and head to the door. “I’ll be back with that useless prick in tow.”
She waves as I head back into the day. Baptist lives in a newly renovated building across the block in an obscenely nice apartment. An old lady with two fluffy white dogs is heading out, and I slip in past her, bypassing the outer door buzzer and heading deep into the building. I know this place by heart now—Baptist is late more often than not, and I’ve grown accustomed to dragging his ass out of bed.
I find his apartment and knock twice before trying the knob. “Baptist, if you’re not awake—”
I step inside and my jaw falls open.
A girl’s standing straight ahead. She’s pretty, redhead, big eyes, big lips, and very big boobs—and she’s extremely topless. I blink rapidly before turning away and covering my face. “Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay, it’s okay, uh, who are you? Baptist, there’s someone here!”
“I work with him, I didn’t know he’d have a, uh, friend over, and I didn’t—”
“What have I told you about knocking, Webb?”
Baptist’s voice grabs my attention. I look right, away from the pretty topless girl who is now covering her chest with her arms, and spot him standing in the doorway to the bathroom.
Naked, dripping wet, and barely covered by a towel.
I groan. God damn it, I groan, and I hate myself for it.
Because he’s a freaking specimen.
Cut in all the right places. Muscular chest, toned arms. Tattoos snaking across his supple skin. His thighs are ripped and defined, and that delicious V works down beneath his abs, disappearing beneath the smallest fucking towel imaginable. He’s smirking, and I swear, I think he’s getting hard as he stares at me and Jessica Rabbit over there.
“Zoe told me you didn’t show up yet, and I just assumed—”
“That I was still asleep? You shouldn’t assume anything, Webb.” He walks over, leaving wet footprints on the floor, and stops beside the girl. I have to avert my gaze because, yeah, she’s still topless. He pats her ass and she giggles—seriously, a grown woman, giggling—and jerks his head to the side.
“I’ve got to work now and you’re late for class.”
“College, I really fucking hope,” I mumble but they ignore me.
“Call me later?”
“I absolutely will.”
He won’t call her.
I wait awkwardly in his expensively furnished living room until the college girl is gone. He returns dressed in sleek joggers and a tight t-shirt cut to emphasize his chest and arms. He grins at me as he leans against the wall and I glare death at him.
“You do know that we have a meeting with Cowan in an hour, right?”
“I do know that, yes.”
“And you still brought a girl home last night? What is that, the third girl this week?”
“Second. And don’t sound jealous, Webb. It’s not very attractive.”
I grind my teeth. “I’m not trying to be attractive for you, you self-centered, fucking—”
“I needed to blow off some steam,” he says as I curse him out. “That girl, she was absolutely perfect for that. Very willing to blow. Eager, almost.”
“You’re a pig.”
“I am what I am.” He sighs and leans his head back. “We’re still on with Cowan?”
I nod once sharply and rub my eyes. I feel a headache coming on. I drown it with a sip from my coffee. “One hour at his place. I’m driving. Get over to Heart and get what you need.”