Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 73568 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73568 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
“So very typical,” I mutter under my breath, but apparently not low enough.
His head swivels my way. “Typical? I hear your disdain, so please explain.”
Where to start? I wave my hand around the club. “It’s just… this is what I’d expect. I think what most women expect.” I nod out to the dancing throng. “You said you’re offered the world because you’re an FI driver and you take all that’s offered. Seems like every man’s dream. Dozens of women out there, all dressed the same, all bumping and grinding to get your attention. And you’ll choose one lucky girl, but truth is, she’s no different from the rest. You’ll pick her probably on a random whim and forget her just as quickly the next morning. I get you’re talking about easy women and fun times, but really… you’re doing nothing special to earn it.”
He leans back, his gaze sweeping over me. “Those are some strong opinions.”
I shrug. “Just opinions.”
Lex raises an eyebrow, his smile widening. “Didn’t realize my personal after-hours life was necessary for your article.”
“Accurate reporting,” I say, pulling out my notepad and scribbling something just to make a point.
He chuckles, low and soft, and takes another sip of his drink. “You should come dance.”
The offer seems real, and I’m prepared to decline out of principle so as not to embarrass myself, but then it hits me… he’s bordering on drunk.
I look him over more critically. His glazed eyes, flushed skin, and his demeanor… he’s almost being nice to me.
“No thank you,” I say primly.
Lex shrugs, pushes up out of the chair. “Suit yourself. I think you could use some proper fun, but maybe you don’t know what that is.”
Before I can respond, Ronan yells from the dance floor, waving Lex back over. “Oi, Hamilton! Quit chatting and get back here!”
Lex grins, his excitement returning full force. “Don’t wait up,” he says before chugging the rest of his drink. He slams it down and jogs out to the dance floor. He’s exuberant, practically bouncing as he joins Ronan, already shouting and pumping his fist like they’ve just won a race.
I note a few guys off to the side eyeballing Lex, Carlos and Ronan with jealousy, whispering to one another and throwing them dirty looks. I watch for a moment, a knot tightening in my belly. I know enough to know that nights like this never end well. The attention they’re getting from the women isn’t helping. This feels like a powder keg waiting to explode, and it’s just… typical. Probably why when I write romance, I get so lost in the fantasy of how a man should act and not the reality.
I settle into the booth, watching Lex looking to take everything that’s offered to him.
♦
Lex’s arm is slung over my shoulders, and he’s leaning on me so heavily that I’m not sure if I’m supporting him or if we’re both about to collapse. His weight shifts unsteadily with each step as I fumble with the key card to my hotel room. I push the door open, and we stumble inside, Lex nearly toppling over as we do.
“Y’know, I didn’t get in a fight tonight,” he slurs, his words tumbling out as he leans harder against me. He grins like it’s a major achievement, and in some ways, I guess it is.
“Great job,” I mutter as I guide him toward the couch. “Let’s just focus on walking right now.”
“I’m good at that,” he mumbles, his voice muffled by my shoulder. “Good at a lot of things. If you’re interested, I could show you what I mean.”
I ignore the way he sounds suspiciously like he’s flirting and aim for the small couch. He’s barely able to stay upright, and I’m already exhausted from trying to wrangle him out of the club tonight. Carlos had left and Ronan was no help, so I had to convince Lex it was time to go. I didn’t owe him anything but weirdly, I felt responsible for him.
He passed out in the cab and I couldn’t wake him up, so I had no clue how to get him home because I didn’t know where he lived. It was with great reluctance I brought him back to my hotel.
We reach the couch, and I let him flop down onto it face-first. He lands with a thud, his arm dangling off the side, and within seconds, he’s out cold, snoring softly.
I stand there for a moment, staring down at him. He’s so proud of himself for not getting into trouble tonight, but I’m the one who had to drag him out before things went south. I sigh and shake my head, stepping back and glancing around. It’s a far cry from the sleek clubs and luxury cars I’ve been exposed to tonight—just a modest-size room with a double bed, a small bathroom, a couch with a passed-out race car driver, and an ornate desk by the window with a view that looks out onto a quiet street.