Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 144435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
"I see it," she says.
"We're stealing it."
"We are not."
"We are."
"They're going to see us way before we make it to the golf cart, Crue."
"I know. That's why I need you to run like the fucking wind, sweet girl."
She eyes me like I've lost my mind, and then she laughs. "Okay, but if we get mobbed, just remember that this was your plan."
"We're not going to get mobbed," I promise, leading her to the bus door. "When I count to three, I'm going to open it. I want you to take off. I'll be right behind you."
"Promise?"
"On my life," I swear.
"Okay."
I count down and throw the door open. She takes off like a rocket, scrambling down the steps and then flying across the asphalt toward the golf cart. I give her a head start and then jump down, skipping the steps.
"Keep them off of us," I shout to Havoc, running after her. My feet pound against the ground as I quickly close the distance between us. The fans spot me and start screaming.
The security guards don't stand a chance in hell of holding them back once they see me. They surge forward as one big group, waving their arms and their signs and shouting.
I pick up speed, catching up to Ireland in four steps. We're still too far from the golf cart, and they're closing the distance. I scoop her up into my arms. She screams with laughter, clinging to my shoulders as I keep running.
"This isn't supposed to be fun, Éire," I pant, smiling despite myself. Somehow, running from fans with her is a helluva lot more fun than running from fans with the band.
We make it to the golf cart ahead of the throng. I jump in, setting her on the seat beside me. The keys are still in it, exactly as expected. They never take the keys when trouble is brewing. They pull up, jump out, and handle business.
I crank the engine and hit the gas.
Ireland screams with laughter again as we take off, hauling ass out of there.
"Hey!" Security shouts, chasing us now.
I don't stop to explain. We just drive.
We spend the rest of the day holed up in the arena with the band, hiding from fans. They're camped out at the arena and the hotel, making it impossible for us to go anywhere. It's exactly like old times, except the girls are with us now, and it sucks far less.
I don't tell anyone that it's only going to get crazier. They may kill me when they find out what I did. But the truth is, all I did was speed up the inevitable. Sooner or later, the world was going to find out. I just hurried up the timeline.
"What are you working on?" Ireland asks after sound check, dropping down next to me at the piano. "That's not the same song you were writing yesterday."
"Nope. This is a new one."
"Can I hear it?"
"I've only got one verse finished, but I'll play it for you." I place my fingers back on the keys. I start playing, running through the notes I put together while she was sleeping last night. "Caught in a whirlwind, emotions collide," I croon to her. "Crashing together, craving more and more. A symphony of passion and desire dances through your eyes as I trace the lines of your body, and you set me ablaze. You ignite, and I go up in flames. Bound to you. Bound to you."
"Oh," she whispers. "That's really beautiful, Crue."
"Good because it's about you."
She glances up at me, startled.
"I started putting it together last night while you were sleeping."
"Really?" A happy smile lights her up. "You're writing a song for me?"
"For you and about you." I brush my lips across her crown.
"That's so cool." She leans her head against my shoulder, humming like a happy little kitten. And then she pops upright. "Hey. Can you teach me to play the piano?"
"Why? Are you going to write me a song?"
"No, but I'll sing yours really badly if you teach me."
I chuckle, shaking my head. "In that case, no. You already massacred DTF. Find a different band to pick on, Ireland."
She gasps in mock outrage, laughing up at me. "Just wait, Crue Blake. I'm going to sing your freaking songs every minute of the day until they haunt you."
I cast my eyes up toward the ceiling. "God save me. Please."
She elbows me in the ribs and then squeals when I grab her.
"Hey, lover boy." Asher pops his head into the room. "It's time for sound check."
"Oh! Then that means it's time for me to go back to the hotel." Ireland bounces to her feet. "I need to get pretty for the show tonight."
"You're already beautiful, Éire."
"Yes, but I need to shower and change because of something someone did earlier," she says, shooting me a very pointed look.