Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 112917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
“Sometimes people aren’t always in their right minds, Zane.”
The mark had faded a little, but it was nowhere near coming off completely. I had another idea. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
I returned to the main room and found my own bags in the other bedroom. I pulled out a Sharpie from a catch-all pouch in my bag and returned to Zane’s room. “Hold still.”
“What are you doing?”
“Replacing the old mark with a new one.”
I caught the edge of his mouth as it turned up. If I could take away his fear even for a moment, I’d consider that a win.
“What are you going to draw?” he asked.
“Wait and see,” I said as I brainstormed what I could create that would cover the small circular target icon and not exceed my limited drawing ability.
“If only I knew what the person wanted,” he mused. “Maybe I could help them.”
I closed my eyes and dragged in a breath to keep from roaring at him to stop being so goddamned nice. After a beat, I opened my eyes and began to drag the marker across his skin.
“What did you decide on?”
“You’re impatient.”
“I won’t be able to see it.”
“That’s probably for the best. I’m shit at drawing,” I admitted.
When I was done, he asked again. I took his phone and snapped a picture of the drawing before handing the phone back.
Zane blinked at the screen. “A… saw blade?”
“It’s a sun,” I insisted. “I told you I sucked at drawing.”
He tilted his head one way and then the other as he studied the photo. “Is it… an angry sun?”
I turned to leave when the magical sound of Zane’s laughter hit the air between us.
“Don’t go. I’m sorry, Bear. I’m teasing you. Thank you for doing this. I love it. And… you putting something—anything—there is so much better than what was there before.”
I thought about all the ways I wished I could mark him…
I blew out a breath and glanced over my shoulder. “You need anything before your friends get here? Want me to order you a salad?”
He didn’t like eating heavy this time of night, but if I could get him to eat a salad with protein on it, I’d call it a win. While tonight’s show hadn’t been a full set list like a solo concert, the stress of the situation had probably still taken a lot out of him. The guy had a hard time consuming enough calories to keep from a deficit on concert days.
Zane shook his head. “Maybe some carrot sticks or pretzels?”
“How about a protein drink?”
He shrugged. “I’ll try.”
I nodded and headed back out to fetch it from the stocked kitchenette, where Lou was busy on the phone with the team headed to Barlo. When I got back to Zane’s bedroom, I noticed he had put on a hoodie and was dragging a brush through his hair while sitting in front of a mirror over a small vanity table.
“Hey, Bear? Don’t, ah… don’t tell the guys about the stamp, okay?”
I met his eyes in the mirror. “You know I don’t tell anyone anything unless it’s necessary to keep you safe.”
“No, I know, I just… wanted to be sure. I don’t want anyone to worry.”
I nodded but kept my mouth shut. What I wanted to say was definitely inappropriate.
I wanted to tell him that it was a privilege to worry about him, that his friends loved him and would want to protect him as much as I did. Well… maybe not as much as I did. He couldn’t possibly know just how much I wanted to keep him safe. Even though I hadn’t known Zane as long as his friends had, I’d spent many hours, days, and months in close quarters with him, getting to know him under many circumstances.
I felt like I knew him better than anyone… though I probably didn’t have a right to.
The sounds of Lou greeting Zane’s friends filtered through to the bedroom, and I took it as my cue to leave. I made my way back out to the main part of the suite while Landry, Silas, Way, Dev, Tully, Bash, and Rowe all trooped past me on their way into Zane’s bedroom.
Half an hour later, all but Landry trooped back out, giving Lou and me friendly “good night” waves and thanks for taking care of “our superstar.”
I stared at the bedroom door as Landry pushed it closed with a cheeky wink and grin.
Yeah, the fucker definitely saw me looking at them earlier.
My stomach somersaulted as I sat back down at the dining table and pretended to check my email.
Sure enough, just like five other times in the past several months, soon there came the distinctive sounds of sex from inside the bedroom—loud moans and muffled cries I tried not to attribute to anyone in particular, squeaking mattress springs, and the rhythmic bang bang bang of a headboard whacking forcefully into a wall.