Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 19506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 98(@200wpm)___ 78(@250wpm)___ 65(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 98(@200wpm)___ 78(@250wpm)___ 65(@300wpm)
“It was an accident,” Zane interjected. “You can’t blame yourself.”
Rider argued, “Yes I can, and so can he. He’s angry with good reason. All I want is to care for him and meet his needs, but he doesn’t want me to get close to him. I…I don’t even know his name.”
Rider rubbed the heel of his palm into his chest and I flinched when I realized I was doing the same thing. I had pain inside that had nothing to do with my wreck. I didn’t understand what the hell was happening; why did I feel badly?
Had I been too quick to judge Rider because of my past? Was he just a good person who wanted to help? He didn’t know I was listening to his conversation, so he wouldn’t be lying for my benefit. And if he really wanted to hurt me, wouldn’t he have done it already?
While my brain was still trying to unravel its questions, my heart leapt into action and put my feet in motion. Before I knew my destination, they took me to Rider’s side, where I stopped and offered, “It’s Trey.” His head whipped towards me, and his eyes were wide. “My name; it’s Trey.”
“Thank you,” he replied, and the sincerity and gratitude in his voice sent a shiver down my spine. “I’m Rider.” I already knew as much, but I nodded anyway.
After gazing at me for a long moment, Rider quickly jumped out of his seat, stepping right in front of me and placing his hands on my shoulders. I blinked in surprise with how gentle his touch was, given the size of him. “Please, sit,” he requested as he guided me to his chair. He eased me down before hustling across the room and returning with a small ottoman. He gently lifted my feet and placed them on top before asking, “Is there anything you need? A pillow? Something to drink?”
My first thought was, ‘A guy could get used to this’, before skepticism rushed in again. Nobody was this kind to a stranger. Maybe Rider was putting on a good show for his friends. But as the thought crossed my mind, the nagging pain returned in my chest. My heart and brain were at war, trying to get their message across the loudest, and I didn’t know which one to listen to.
Realizing that Rider was staring expectantly at me, I shook my head no to his offers.
“Well, at least drink some of this,” a man said as he stood from the lap of another. “I’m Rowdy, by the way.” I nodded again and he held out a thermos. “Our friend Rowan checked you out after your accident and he sent this tea over. He said it would help any swelling or pain.”
Apparently I stared at the thermos a little too long, because Rowdy added, “It’s safe, I promise. See?” He unscrewed the cap and poured some of the hot liquid into it before taking a sip, making his nose scrunch up. “I’ve never been a fan of tea. Personally, I think it tastes like a hot cup of grass water.”
“Thanks for that,” Rider replied in a slightly irritated tone as he took the thermos from his friend, making me smirk.
“You’re welcome,” Rowdy answered with a wide smile. He sat back down on the man’s lap and told me, “This sexy hunk of man is Grayson.” The older man gave a polite wave as Rowdy scratched his fingers through his graying beard.
“Thanks for our introduction, Rowdy,” another man said with a playful eye roll. “Trey, my name is Ridge and this is Zane.” We also exchanged waves and Ridge added, “We’re sorry to barge in on you, but we wanted to see how you were doing after your accident.”
I once again blinked in surprise, this time at his genuine concern. There were more people who seemed to care about me in this room than there had been in my whole life.
“I’m okay,” I answered after a brief pause. “I’m just a little sore.”
“I brought something that might help,” Zane piped up as he dug in his pocket. He retrieved a small bottle of Tylenol, which he handed over to me. “I knew that Rider wouldn’t have any here.”
I looked over at the big guy and asked, “Are you more into natural medicine?” I based the guess off of the thermos of tea I held in my hands.
“Usually,” he answered with a nod. “But I rarely get hurt and when I do, I heal quickly.”
“You look like you take very good care of your body,” I agreed. I’d noticed his body before, but now that I was no longer scared out of my skull, I gave it a more thorough examination.
The man was huge. His frame was probably twice the width of mine, and his tight shirt clung to the muscles beneath it. His forearms were swollen and chock full of mouthwatering veins, and his hands spoke of gentle power.