Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 133034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
I slide off my stool and go to him, wrapping my arms around his neck to hold him tight.
“Our life here, the two of us, is fucking amazing. It always has been, even in the dark bits. I’ll never lose sight of that, no matter what.”
“Same goes.”
I try to steady the flutters in my belly, still fighting the craving for the magical dream. But it doesn’t exist in the real world. It couldn’t. Heath is a megastar and we’re a pair of hookers. Hookers who love our job and our life together.
Having Heath as a regular client again would be phenomenal. Better than phenomenal. It would be more than enough excitement to see us through.
Or it should be.
One thing for certain is that under Josh’s calm exterior, no matter how hard he’s trying to maintain it, he’s a hurting soul missing a man he adores. Badly.
It’s not Josh’s feelings that should be at the back of the queue, it’s mine.
His decision is his decision, and his actions are the ones at the forefront, and I’ll be there to support them.
No matter what happens, and no matter how much it hurts, I need to be his strength in the darkness now. His support in the storm.
Just like he was for me.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
User 1543. Male. 34.
Please, don’t decline again.
I need to see you. Both of you.
Typhoon of shit, or not, I don’t care.
Duration: Four hours.
Proposal price: Whatever you want. Just accept, please.
The price Josh set was a grand. Just a token gesture as far as Heath Mason is concerned, but enough to pass through The Agency books without too much scrutiny. The last thing we want is to draw any attention to the proposal. Not for any of us.
We get a cab to the random hotel in Maidstone that Heath has chosen, quite a way out of London. The journey seems to take a decade as Josh and I sit in silence, holding hands. There is nothing to say. No small talk would cut it.
We check into the hotel under Josh’s name, and the smiling blonde receptionist hands over the key card for our room. She grins at Josh as she points out the elevator, blatantly fancying a piece of him, and he maintains his cool with a confident smile. He gives her a gracious thank you, this place looks absolutely excellent, and she replies with a giggle.
Thank you, sir! Enjoy your stay. Catch you tomorrow for breakfast, I hope.
It’s like I don’t exist as I stay a few steps to side of him, protecting myself from prying eyes. I’ve dressed down massively, trying to blend in by being ordinary. But I don’t like ordinary. I never have. It may offer sanctuary, but it feels like shit.
I don’t want to hide myself away anymore. I don’t want to dull my own flame.
But tonight, I have no choice. Not where Heath is concerned. I have to suck it up in my oversized light blue hoodie as the receptionist hits on my boyfriend, right in front of me.
It’s not a surprise, and it’s not jealousy that has me frustrated. It’s the lack of me being me. I mean, even in a play it down getup of jeans and a t-shirt, Josh looks amazing, and he sounds it. I’d want to hit on him with everything I had if I was her. And he’s buzzing with just the right amount of cockiness to keep her satisfied.
Still, his cool chill is a façade. He takes a deep breath once we’ve turned away from her, a hint of sweat beading on his brow as we cross the foyer, wheeling our small suitcase.
I grab his hand, squeezing hard when we reach the elevator. My breaths are already hitching when it arrives and opens with a ding, an instinctive bout of panic threatening to take over until we are up on floor five, safe in the confines of our hotel room. Trust Heath, he’s booked us a whole bloody suite, even for just a few hours. The place is luxurious as hell, with a huge bed, and minibar and jacuzzi bath.
Me and Josh would usually be squealing at the luxury of a room like this, but not tonight. Josh flops himself down on the luxury, king-size bed and lets out a sigh.
“I thought I was ready for it, but I’m not.”
I join him, wrapping an arm over his chest as we lie together.
“Yep. I’m with you on team jitterbug. I’m absolutely crapping myself.”
“I’m glad we’re not gonna be waiting long. I don’t think my guts would take it.”
“Ditto.” I link my fingers in his. “Here we are, though. It’s going to get easier once we know what the score is. We’ll do ok, I’m sure.”
He squeezes my fingers, palm to palm.
“Yeah, we’ll do ok. Always.”
We won’t have that much time to dwell and ponder. Just over an hour until the proposal starts. The final strait.