Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Drake’s foot crosses mine beneath the sheets, and his toes wiggle against mine every few minutes as if to remind him I’m still here. A shy grin pulls at the corner of his lips every time, and I don’t think he notices. But I do.
His phone rings, breaking the silence of the night. “Who the hell is calling me this late?” He grabs the device and groans. “It’s my sister Evie.”
“Take it if you need to. It won’t bother me.”
He kisses me quickly before answering it, immediately putting the call on speakerphone and pulling me closer to his side. Men don’t usually do this in front of me—talk so openly to a random call in the middle of the night. Probably because they’re on bullshit. It’s just another thing about Drake that I love.
“Hey, Eves,” he says.
“Hey, so, Elodie told me that she was thinking about moving to Raleigh, and you knew it, and neither of you told me.”
He chuckles softly, as if he expected this conversation to happen. “True.”
“What the fuck, Drake?”
“She hadn’t made up her mind yet and asked me not to say anything, so I didn’t.”
She gasps. “Where is your loyalty?”
“Well, at that moment, it was with Elodie.” He chuckles louder. “She’s not going, so it doesn’t matter. Relax.”
“I’m like the blond-headed baby child of this family, and no one takes me seriously.”
I cover my mouth with my hand to suppress my giggle. Drake rolls his eyes.
“I wonder why no one takes you seriously, Evie,” he says. “Is that all you called me for? Because I’m busy.”
“Doing what?”
He lifts his brows, looking over his shoulder at me with a curious look.
I shrug. “I don’t care,” I whisper, knowing he’s asking for permission to tell her that I’m here. It’s not like the world isn’t already in our business.
“Oh, I’m not doing much,” he says, a taunt in his tone. “Just lying here with Gianna.”
Evie shrieks. “No, you are not.”
“Yes, I really am.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “I love that you say it like you’re surprised that she’d be with me, you little shit.”
“Did you tell her I’m a fan? That I’m obsessed with her? That my entire office listens to her every week—oh! Tell her she needs merch! Do you know how many sweatshirts, hats, and hoodies people would buy? A fuckton. I have design ideas, if she needs them.”
“More attention. Tons of branded merch.”
Evie’s suggestion brings back my conversation with Francine today, and I can feel the stress of it building in my shoulders once again—only more this time. Because if people are going to be wearing stuff with my name on it, I need to control what it says. And something tells me that if I let Canoodle rebrand me, that won’t be the case.
“I’ll let her know,” Drake says, unaware that my thoughts strayed. “She’s listening if you want to say anything to her.”
“What? Drake! Why didn’t you warn me that she could hear me?” She groans. “You really do hate me, don’t you?”
I lean closer to the phone. “Hey, Evie.”
She squeals. “Hey, Gianna. This is not how I thought we’d meet because, obviously, this is not my best look. But this is me with my brother and not me in the street. The me in the street is much cooler than the me with Drake. And please don’t judge me based on this conversation or anything that he might’ve told you about me. And if he’s still listening,” she says louder, “I know things about him that I could share, too.”
I laugh, stroking my fingertips over Drake’s abs. “It’s fine. I have a sister, so I understand.”
“Thank God.”
Drake yawns. “Okay, that’s all you get of my girl tonight. We’re going to bed.”
My girl. I burrow my face against his side so he can’t see me beam.
“Fine,” she says. “I just wanted to yell at you for not telling me about Elodie. Now I’m pissed at you for this, too, you fuckhead.”
“Love you, too,” Drake says, laughing through another yawn.
“Ugh. Love you, too. It was so nice to meet you, Gianna!”
I laugh. “It was nice to meet you, too, Evie.”
Drake ends the call before Evie can carry on, then plops the phone on the nightstand. “Do you need anything before I turn this light off?”
“Nope.” I wait for him to roll back over, facing me, before I get situated at his side. One arm draped over his middle, I sigh. “Evie sounds fun.”
“She’s a giant pain in my ass.”
I chuckle.
Drake rests his chin on the top of my head and exhales softly. His shoulders sink into the pillows while his chest rises and falls in slow, even movements. I close my eyes and absorb his peace.
This is nice.
I’ve always been a night owl, mainly because my brain seems to turn on when the sun turns off. The nighttime hours are when I generally feel most creative, and I get my best inspiration sometime after midnight. But over the last couple of weeks, since I started spending nights with Drake, that’s begun to shift.