Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 34760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 174(@200wpm)___ 139(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 174(@200wpm)___ 139(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
If the press is to be believes, he's used to dating models who have never been more than a zero in their lives. My panties ate a zero.
I'm not ashamed of who I am or my body. I work out. I eat as well as I can. It is what it is. That does not mean I want one of the biggest rockstars in the country to know what size panties I wear, either.
"Here," I say, shoving the pile through the tiniest crack in the door while trying to hide behind it at the same time.
He grabs my pile and hands me a dry one, but before I can close the door, his foot is wedged between it and the jamb, stopping me. "Is everything okay in there?"
"Yes, fine." I push against the door, trying to close it on him. "Just trying to dry off."
"Feel free to use whatever you need. You're welcome to anything while you're here," he says, his gruff voice soft.
"Thanks." I nudge the door again, but it still doesn't budge.
He's just standing there, like he's waiting for me to say something, and I have no idea what I'm supposed to say. Come fuck me right now isn't an option, right?
Right.
"Um…"
"Oh. Shit." He yanks his foot away so fast, I pitch forward, accidentally slamming the door in his face.
"Jesus Christ," I groan, resting my forehead against it. "Could you possibly be more awkward, Loralei?"
"Sorry!" he shouts through it, laughter in his voice. He heard me. Awesome.
I dress slowly in the t-shirt and sweats he brought me, trying to forestall the inevitable for as long as possible. I have to do it eventually, though, right? I can't hide out in the bathroom forever.
Why is he hiding out? No one just rents a cabin in the middle of nowhere for no reason. Last I heard, his band was working on music for their next album. They're supposed to be in the studio.
Clearly, I heard wrong.
I run my fingers through my hair, trying to tame it, and then step out into the hall. Rain is still coming down in sheets outside, falling loudly on the tin roof. But it feels a lot safer in here than it did out there.
Did I really almost get smashed by a falling tree today?
I hurry down the hall, not prepared to think about that right now, only to stop in the living room when I spot Ash kneeling in front of the fireplace, carefully placing logs. He's changed into a faded blue t-shirt that stretches across his muscular back and a pair of black sweats.
"Hey," he says, turning to look at me. "I started a fire. Figured you might still be cold."
"I…thank you," I whisper, my heart twinging. "Um, for everything."
He shoots me a tiny smile, dusting his hands off before rising gracefully to his feet. His gaze drifts down my body. "They fit you."
"Yes. Um, thank you. Again."
"Looks better on you than they do on me."
My cheeks heat.
"You hungry?" He nods toward the coffee table before I can even process the comment. "I cut up some fruit and cheese. It's not much, but I thought…" he trails off awkwardly, clearing his throat.
I gape at him for a long moment, caught off guard. He seems nervous, like he doesn't know what to say or do now that I'm in his space, wearing his clothes. And then realization dawns.
"I promise, I won't tell anyone that you're here or that you helped me," I blurt. "And as soon as the storm passes, I'll get out of your way."
He stares at me for a long silent moment. "Who says you're in my way, Loralei?"
"I…I…."
His lips curve, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "It's all good, baby. I'm not worried about it."
Ash Kilborne just called me baby.
That settles it. This is definitely not reality. This is way better than that.
"Come on," he says, holding out a hand to me. "Come eat."
I glance at his hand for a split second before slipping mine into his, my heart beating like a freaking war drum.
Chapter Four
Loralei
"You're the town librarian?" Ash asks, grinning at me from the opposite end of the couch where he's sprawled with his hands on his stomach and his feet on the coffee table. The plate of cheese and fruit is all but gone between us. The cabin is nice and toasty. Unfortunately, it's also still storming outside. It hasn't let up at all.
"Yes. I have been for the last four years."
One dark brow arches. "There's no way you're old enough to have been the librarian that long."
"I'm twenty-seven."
"Really? I thought you were twenty-one or twenty-two."
"Nope. Twenty-seven."
"And already lording over the literary scene in town," he murmurs. "Impressive."
"Book nerds start early," I say with a shrug.
He just chuckles in response, stretching his arms over his head. His t-shirt rides up, exposing a strip of skin right above his waistband. Jeez. Do his abs have abs? And am I allowed to ask if I can lick them? Probably not, right? "What's your favorite thing to read?"