Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 98823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
“Tempting.” I glanced around. Far too many people for even a fast peck. Might as well fess up. “Okay, fine. I’ll tell you. It’s a minor thing, but if we’re hooking up, maybe you could not…?”
“Fuck around?” Ezra filled in the blank I was tiptoeing around with typical bluntness. “Yeah, I had no plans in that arena, Lieu—Duncan.”
“Good.” I liked how he’d corrected himself on the nickname almost as much as I liked his ready agreement. I’d never asked someone for exclusivity before, but every time I thought about Ezra with some random groupie, my neck went hot and itchy.
“I’m more than my headlines.” Ezra sounded a little hurt, which made my chest pinch. “For all Carl’s teasing, I really don’t fool around that much anymore. Fans always talk, fellow celebrities are all out for the publicity op, and real connections are few and far between. I’d much rather have quality sex than a ton of mediocre options.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to imply you were…indiscriminate. And I agree. I’d rather have quality and connection myself. Like what we have.” I was taking another risk, adding that last bit, but there was no sense in pretending this was an average hookup for me.
Luckily, Ezra didn’t seem scared off by my admission, nodding along. “Yup. Exactly. And I love you all possessive. Grrr.” He made a pretend claw mark in the air before resuming a decent running pace. “Now, try to keep up.”
“Dork.” I couldn’t help my loud chuckle. Ezra had me feeling like I was catching up on years of lost belly laughs.
“Nah. I’m the king of cool.” He stuck his tongue out at me, and my chest expanded, warm and light. The sun reflected off his dark hair, a pristine blue cloudless sky and gleaming lake for a perfect moment.
“You’re the king of something.” I didn’t even bother trying to keep the fondness out of my voice. The rest of our run was a pleasure. I’d worked out with Harley, Cash, and others for years, but none of them brought quite so much joy to everyday activities as Ezra did. He was like ordering an extra double shot for my ordinary life, making even mundane things like stretching my hamstrings post-run fun.
Back in the rear corridor of the hotel, Ezra bounced around like a Ping-Pong ball, skimping on his own stretches in favor of leering at me. “Is it wrong that I’m really hoping Kate isn’t still using my living area as her office? I’m in desperate need of a shower, a locked door, and you.”
“I might be hoping the same.” I groaned. I needed to kiss him in the worst way. The convenient rack of linens had been removed. I eyed the elevator, which inevitably had security cameras. “Let’s hurry.”
Sadly, Kate was waiting for us, one hand on her hip, the other pointing at the clock on her phone. “That was a long run.”
“But fun.” Ezra grinned widely at her. “That’s the best run I’ve had in ages.”
“Great.” She patted his shoulder before steering him toward the bedroom. “I’m happy for you. But we need to get a move on. This round of media appearances starts soon, and I don’t want to keep the car waiting.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Ezra gave her an adorable mock salute. His insolence would never have passed muster in boot camp, and somehow, I liked him all the more for his inability to take anything, including himself, too seriously.
Unlike me. But I did take a page from his book and leave an extra button open at my collar after my own lightning-fast, lonely shower. And there was a certain extra lightness to my step as we made our way to the TV station where Ezra was scheduled for an interview segment along with some promotional photos.
“We were thinking of doing some shots with you climbing those bars.” The young production assistant had spiked light-blue and lavender hair and a distinctive Chicago accent. And a major case of celebrity-crush on Ezra, judging from how they hung on his every word and kept tossing in compliments. They gestured at an industrial-looking set piece made of metal bars designed to look like pipes. When Ezra stayed quiet, the assistant added, “Like the wild and crazy royal you are. Treat the set like your own personal playground.”
Ezra wrinkled his forehead, eyes narrowing as he glanced over at me for the first time since our arrival. I was fully prepared for him to do back flips or pullups or whatever else this production person could dream up. I didn’t want to always be the wet blanket squashing Ezra’s fun, so I kept my mouth shut.
“I think my security would have a fit if I dangle from anything.” Ezra gave me a small, secret smile before shrugging for the production assistant. “How about some standing pictures? Or we could use that big chair as a sort of throne?”