Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
I watch them until they reach the front door, then I look back to find Cristiano studying me. He still wears some of his rage. He really didn’t like the DJ manhandling me like that, and I realize now I’ve basically given him all the proof he needs concerning my ability to take care of myself on Ibiza.
I roll my eyes playfully. “Aside from this scenario, I assure you I don’t need someone to watch out for me. French DJs very rarely accost me. That’s only the second or third time it’s happened this year.”
My joke melts away the last of his residual anger as he scrubs a hand down his face. “Enough. It’s late. Let’s go. I’ll drive you and your friends home.”
I frown, confused. “You think they’re still here?”
Surely they took off already.
He waves for me to take the lead as he nods. “I see them poking their little heads out from the side of the stairs. They were listening to us the whole time.”
Lo and behold, he’s right. At least Annika and Simone have the decency to look busy when we walk over. Annika’s gripping a mop and “cleaning” a patch of floor over and over again, and Simone is pointing out areas she’s “missed.”
“Not clean enough!” Simone shouts at her like a harsh taskmaster before making a big production of seeming surprised when she sees us.
I hold up my hand to stop her before she can say anything. “Let’s go. Cristiano is giving us a ride home.”
Annika flings her mop aside and it smacks the wall. “Really?”
They look to Cristiano and he nods.
“Give us a minute to change,” I tell him. “Or don’t. We’re happy to walk home.”
“No we aren’t! Elle!” Annika interrupts with a worried laugh and a scolding glare privately aimed at me. “She means to say we will change quickly and meet you near the side exit right away. We’re very grateful for the ride home, er, sir.” Then she tugs me in the direction of our locker room. “Don’t ruin this for me,” she says with a hiss under her breath. “I want to see the inside of his car!”
Simone nods. “Yes. Me too!”
I get it. I’m a little curious myself, and this is the least I can do for Simone and Annika after all they’ve done for me. I change out of my uniform and back into my tank top and shorts, then follow quietly after them once we leave the locker room. We find Cristiano waiting for us near the side exit with Hugo.
“—not welcome again,” Cristiano finishes saying with a firm shake of his head.
Hugo clears his throat, his gaze cutting to us, before he replies solemnly, “Understood.”
He steps back to let us pass. “You three staying out of trouble?”
His eyes land on me as he asks this, as if I’m the troublemaker out of the bunch. Hilarious.
“Not even a little bit!” Simone promises with a twinkling laugh before blowing him a kiss.
I roll my lips together to keep from smiling and hurry past with Cristiano on my heels. His car waits for us near the curb with a beefy security guard posted near the passenger door. It’s the gunmetal-gray SUV he stepped out of the first night I ever saw him. Up close, I have to admit it’s very cool, something Batman would drive on the weekend. It has matte paint, huge tires, sleek finishes—all the things boys go gaga over. Well, boys and Simone.
“These rims! Bloody hell. Annika, take my photo.”
She shoves her phone into Annika’s hand, then proceeds to drape herself beside Cristiano’s car while he and I stand shoulder to shoulder, watching. I look up at him as he glances down at me, and for a moment, we share a private smile.
“You want me to take your picture?” he teases.
I only barely resist punching his arm.
With an eye roll, I wave him forward. “C’mon. Let’s get this over with.”
I go to open the back door, but Cristiano steps up and opens the front door for me instead, ushering me toward it with one hand on my shoulder. “Up here. I’m not being a chauffeur for you and your friends.”
Of course. I don’t even bother trying to suggest Simone or Annika take the front seat instead of me. Besides, they’re happy enough in the back. As we get settled and Cristiano pulls away from the curb, my friends act like they’ve never been inside a car before. They press every button, turn every knob. Thank god the drive is so short, because they’re liable to break something. As it is, they’ve opened the sunroof, started a TV show on the built-in screens, and torn into some kind of snack they found in their cupholders.
“So this is what it’d be like to have kids,” I say to Cristiano with a laugh.