Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 129207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
As he gets up off the table and wanders across the tattoo parlor toward the full-length mirror, his hand slips into mine, pulling me along with him. He stands in the mirror, and I can’t help but stare at the beautiful cursive words written across his chest.
He pulls me into him, my back against his chest as he winds his arms around my waist, the two of us staring at one another through the big mirror, his new ink still visible just over my shoulder, and when he drops his head and presses a kiss to my cheek, it’s everything I’ve ever needed. “Yours, Rae.”
“Yours,” I repeat.
Four hours later, way after we spent a good portion of the night having to explain where we were to Axel and what the hell “Hypothetically Yours” is supposed to mean, I lay sprawled across my mattress with my head hanging over the edge as I watch Ezra get lost in his music. He strums his guitar, repeating the same melody I’d heard earlier over and over as he jots down lyrics in his notepad.
I can’t help but notice the words Hypothetically Yours scrawled across the top of the page in his messy handwriting. He works on it for an hour at most, the words falling from his brain onto the paper with ease, and as he finally starts matching those lyrics to the melody, I realize that one day, this song is going to kickstart the boys’ careers, and when that happens, he won’t hypothetically be mine anymore, he’ll belong to the world.
16
Ezra
My fingers strum against the strings, and just as I step up to the microphone, Dylan and Rock finally decide to grace us with their presence, still wearing yesterday’s clothes of course.
“Where the fuck have you been?” I demand, hating how fucking jealous I’ve been of their wild night. The videos of Dylan’s bare ass running up and down the street have more than made the rounds, but the fact that I could make out Rae in the background, laughing in a way she used to, makes everything clench inside my gut. I fucking miss hearing that laugh so goddamn much. “If I can make it here on time, then so the fuck should you.”
Dylan rubs his temples, clearly trying to zone me out. “Why so loud?” he whines. “We’re only twenty minutes late. Besides, you live here. If you couldn’t get here on time, I’d be concerned.”
“Twenty minutes is still twenty minutes,” I argue, knowing damn well that I’ve been way more than twenty minutes late in the past and nobody has ever blinked an eye, but suddenly Rae is involved, and I can’t manage to get a grip on my emotions.
“Chill out,” Rock says. “We were celebrating Rae’s birthday, and besides, she needed it. We weren’t stopping until she passed out cold.”
I let out a heavy sigh. “And did she?”
Dylan laughs. “Oh yeah. It’ll be a miracle if she drags her ass in here today.”
My brow arches. “So, I take it she accepted the job?”
“She didn’t just accept it,” Rock says with a smirk as he throws his hoodie down and climbs up the stage, making his way to his drums. “She put Lenny through his paces. Negotiated a deal better than any of us would have been able to get while also managing to stick it to your stupid ass at the same time.”
“Huh?”
Dylan and Rock share a glance, and I hate that I’m not already in on whatever inside joke they have. “She requested particular luxuries during the tour, negotiated her pay, and insisted that all meals be included, which should all come out of your cut.”
I stare at Dylan. Surely he’s lying. She didn’t do that. Everything I have is all for her anyway, and I would have done it without asking, but her boldness has me stumped. This was supposed to be a way to get back at me, not that I don’t deserve it, but it’s clear that she intends to make this tour as painful for me as possible. She wants to hurt me like I hurt her. She wants me to feel her pain, and I’ll take it any day of the week.
As if on cue, Raleigh strides into the studio, and just like yesterday, everything stops.
She’s so fucking beautiful. The last time I saw her in the flesh was Axel’s funeral, and before that, she was sixteen years old. Now, at twenty-four, she’s more radiant than ever. She keeps her gaze down, refusing to meet my stare, because she knows exactly what she’ll find there, but even with her head down, there’s no mistaking her sharper features. Her carefree youthful face is gone, replaced by the features of a grown woman, and damn, it fucking suits her.
Don’t get me wrong, I more than noticed yesterday, but I was too busy reeling in the shock of seeing her again that I didn’t get a chance to truly take her in, but now, just like that very first day, she holds every ounce of my attention.