Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 129323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
I made it my unofficial job to keep him company while he practiced, and in turn, he made sure I was fed and taken care of. Protected. The bond we shared was unbreakable.
Or so I believed.
He didn’t come back for me.
He didn’t protect me.
Those words have been my constant self-torture for years. Hopefully, after tonight, at the very least, I’ll have that closure and can finally put Aiden Slate to rest.
The hotel looms ahead of me, its grand entrance beckoning me closer. As I approach, my eyes catch sight of a formidable figure stationed outside the door.
A bodyguard, maybe?
My heart skips a beat. A wave of nervousness washes over me. What if I can’t get in? What if I miss my one chance to see him?
When I reach the main door, my steps falter for a moment. Doubt seeps into my mind, but I quickly brush it aside. If I want to have any chance of getting through this beefy man, I need to exude confidence.
Tequila, take the wheel.
Sucking in a deep breath, I move closer. That’s when I notice that the figure isn’t a bodyguard but a large older man dressed as though he’s the doorman for the building. With a warm smile on his face, he pushes open the thick glass and lets me pass.
No questions asked.
They really need to up their hotel security game if they’re going to have high-profile guests staying. Jeez.
Once I enter the luxurious lobby, I try to act like I don’t have a care in the world. I need to blend in and pretend I’m supposed to be here.
I try my best to appear calm and collected, masking the nervous energy that’s pulsing beneath the surface.
With a casual nod to the employee standing in the lobby, I stroll toward the elevators, praying that I won’t run into any unexpected obstacles.
Stepping into an elevator, I sigh in relief to find it isn’t one of those bougie places that require a room key to even move the elevator. I press the button for the third floor. The ascent feels excruciatingly slow, the anticipation building with each passing second. The doors finally slide open, revealing a long corridor lined with doors leading to various rooms.
I might not know the exact room number, but I know it will be an odd number.
So that’s the direction I’ll head in.
I can’t believe I’m doing this.
Since making my decision, I’ve sobered up. My small buzz is now completely gone and begging me to abandon this crazy-ass plan and return to Emma’s place.
No.
I need to see this through.
Need to see him.
My heart pounds in my chest as I walk along the hallway, reading the numbers on each door. As I turn the corner, I see a man standing outside two large doors. The number beside him says 333. This is it.
This is Aiden Slate’s room.
“Can I help you?” the man who must be part of the team’s security, says.
I hesitate for a moment, not knowing what to say. If I tell him who I am, he might not want to see me. My mind races, desperately searching for a reason I’m here that will grant me entry. Summoning what little courage I have left, I take a step forward, giving the man a confident smile. “I’m here to see Mr. Slate.”
His eyes narrow as he scrutinizes me.
He studies me for a moment longer. I’m sure he’ll turn me away, but to my surprise, he nods. “Are you his appointment?” His voice is unreadable.
“Yes. Sorry, I’m a little early. I was close by.” I can’t tell if he’s buying the shit I’m selling, but I’ve committed, so I’m not giving up.
Why am I so dumb? Why did I think this was a good idea?
Summoning every ounce of courage, I add, “Are you going to let me in?”
I hope I’m selling this.
“Sorry. Yes. He’s expecting you.” The man swipes a key and pushes the door open.
My heart beats so frantically that I think I might pass out. As soon as I’m ushered inside, I take a look around.
“I need you to sign a few papers. Standard protocol for these sorts of things.”
“Okay,” I say, even though I have no idea what’s going on, and before I can ask, I’m being led to a round glass dining table where there are documents laid out.
What the hell did I just get myself involved in?
“Non-disclosure agreement.”
Looking through the papers, it becomes very clear what this is.
I’m meant to be his one-night stand for the evening.
My tongue feels heavy with the truth that I’m not his appointment and shouldn’t be here, but all objections get lodged in my throat as the team’s security leaves and Aiden Slate enters the room.
He looks exactly as he did on the TV, but different from before, back when I knew him.
Just as handsome, but like a fine wine, he’s aged to perfection.