Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 93957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
“Thank you. That should solve some interior designer drama. Geez, and I thought Atlanta was rough,” he said with a laugh. “Did your bed get delivered?”
“Yep. It’s the only furniture I brought from my apartment, so I might as well spend my first night here.”
I knew I sounded like an overgrown kid, but I couldn’t help it. This was cool shit. I couldn’t wait to go to the market and buy eggs to put in my fridge in my kitchen. I was even excited at the idea of meeting a neighbor in my neighborhood. The thrill would probably fade soon enough, but I was determined to ride this high for as long as possible.
“Good for you. You should be set. You’ve got running water, electricity, and a fully functional kitchen. We’ll take care of the details, and I’ll be out of your hair in a couple of weeks. I’ll call Sean now and text you his address. Have a good night, Johnny.”
“Thanks. You too.”
I disconnected the call and let out a self-satisfied sigh, allowing myself the luxury of basking in hard-won success. The kid who used to hide in the closet to avoid his mom’s crack dealer had come a long fucking way. I hadn’t reached the top by any means, but I was confident that I was on the right path.
I was the guitarist for Zero, a rock band on the rise, and part owner of the record label we’d formed in an effort to control our messaging and our artistic vision. After a couple of groundbreaking tours and the successful addition of a few acts to our label, I had money in the bank. Real money, no debt, and a family of friends who were closer to me than any blood relative ever had been. It didn’t seem possible that this was my life. I wanted to savor a moment alone and let myself—
Buzz. Buzz.
I glanced at the caller ID, dusting my knees as I stood. “Yo, Jus.”
“For fuck’s sake, we’re waiting for you. What kind of pizza do you want? Gray’s ordering now. Speak up or eat anchovies,” Justin griped playfully.
“The usual. I’m on my way.”
Yep, life was good.
After three slices of pepperoni and an impromptu jam session with Justin and Gray, I swung by the market to pick up a few necessities. My brain was cluttered with happy thoughts as I cruised the cereal aisle, like how freaking cool it was to live in the same general neighborhood as some of my closest friends and what kind of riff I needed to add to the bridge of the song we’d played around with tonight. I wanted to run some ideas by Tegan at his barbecue tomorrow and—shit. The barbecue. I almost forgot the color wheel Wyatt had asked me to grab from my neighbor’s porch.
Was it important? I didn’t really care if all the walls were white. It wasn’t like I’d notice, I mused as I tossed my grocery bags into the back seat of my Chevy Tahoe. On the other hand, it wouldn’t kill me to drive two blocks out of my way. In fact, it might save me from a future headache. Ann was cool but kind of scary, and Declan’s mom was even scarier.
I sighed and checked my cell for messages.
2525 Morning Star. I asked Sean to leave it on his doorstep. Thanks!
One more stop. I plugged the address into my navigation system and adjusted the volume on a Muddy Waters classic before turning left out of the parking lot.
The road twisted and got narrower as I traversed the incline to a dimly lit cul-de-sac. This section of town was close to my new place, but it was definitely in a higher-rent area. Tall, neatly-trimmed hedges and a few iron gates provided privacy and lent an aura of exclusivity. I had a feeling the owners paid for canyon views. That wasn’t something I could afford, and I hadn’t been interested in dealing with coyotes in my backyard anyway.
I parked in front of a two-story modern farmhouse-style residence partially hidden from view by a row of olive trees—apparently, the only one without a gate or intimidating hedge. The lantern above the grand arched entry cast long shadows over the lawn. The contrast of mist on the fringes of the darkness made the overhead light seem like a beacon…or a friendly outpost. Not that I was here to make friends. Just grab the book and go.
Except the book wasn’t there.
My brow creased as I scanned the area. There was nothing behind the potted junipers flanking the entry, nothing on the doormat, and nothing on or under the bench at the far end of the porch. Great. Guess I was meeting the neighbor after all.
I knocked on the door before stepping aside to wait, craning my head to take in a few details like the Range Rover in the driveway and the faint hum of music coming from inside. Someone was home. And what was this guy’s name again? I knocked again, then pulled out my cell to read Wyatt’s last message, glancing up when the door opened.