Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 96712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
“Thirty whole seconds before you took your damn shirt off,” Damon grumbles.
“I need to give these people some sort of gift.” I point to my abs.
“I’d ask for a refund if I were them.”
I shove him. “It’s hot as balls out here.”
We walk past families and couples spending their day at the beach, and I wish for Matt’s sake that he could join them instead of endure this interview.
“Would they have really gone without you?” I ask Damon. Maybe Matt made an escape.
“I texted Maddox the address and told him to get Matt there if he could.”
“Our phones work again?” Mine is still off and in the cabin somewhere. Sorry, Dad, still can’t return your calls.
“Yup.” As if on cue, Damon’s phone buzzes. “Heads up. Paparazzi are lining the property.”
I shake my head. “This is getting out of hand. They followed him to Bermuda?”
We round a corner and paparazzi crowd outside a gated beach bungalow.
“Actually, I think these guys are here for you,” Damon says. “We probably should’ve considered your dad’s political position when we matched you up with Matt.”
I did. “Yeah. That might’ve been an idea.”
Damon’s smirk matches my own. “You said yes to piss your old man off, didn’t you?”
“Me?” I mock gasp. “I would never do such a thing.”
“Liar. Well here you go. Here’s your spotlight.”
Now that I’m getting what I originally set out to do, it doesn’t boost me up as I was expecting. It makes me feel cheaper than a rentboy in one of the seedy nightclubs Matt got caught in. My attention-seeking actions against my father seem childish compared to what Matt’s going through.
“You okay? You look … nervous, but that can’t be right. You’re Noah Huntington the fucking Third.”
“I’m fine. I just didn’t expect them to follow us here. I didn’t realize the extent in which these people will go to make Matt’s life a living hell.”
Damon does that smug thing again.
“Shut up,” I grumble and push on ahead.
“I didn’t say anything,” he says, his ex-baseball playing legs keeping up with me easily. “I definitely didn’t mention the whole having a thing for Matt again.”
Kill me now.
We walk through the throng of media, and my ears prick up at Damon’s name being called out too. These guys have done their homework. Damon was almost famous once—before he blew out his shoulder.
In the safety of the property, I turn to him. “They must be desperate if they’re recognizing your washed-up has-been ass.”
“There’s the Noah I love to hate. Or is it hate to love? One or the other. Missed you for a minute there while you were pining over Matt.”
“Fuck you.”
“I have Maddox for that. Thanks for the offer though.”
Damon knocks on the door that’s on the side of the house, and some PA lets us in.
“Ah, good, the other one is here,” she says and runs off.
“Go find Matt and grovel,” Damon says. I go to take a step when he pulls me back. “And don’t apologize by offering to blow him. That’s why he’s pissed off at you in the first place.” Not quite, but Damon can believe whatever he wants. “And”—he stops me again—“I don’t need to remind you this is your first test. If you guys fail this, we may as well have not bothered at all.” He lowers his voice. “Everyone has to believe you’re a couple.”
“No pressure.”
The PA woman appears again, just as flighty and flustered as before. “Here.” She hands me a pair of swimming trunks, and not the long boardshorts kind. “Wardrobe is this way.”
I mouth “You owe me” to Damon as the little woman drags me away.
He gives me a thumbs-up. Why am I friends with him again? Oh, right, he’s one of the few people who puts up with my bullshit.
Matt avoids eye contact with me as he stands with his arms and legs spread out in the middle of a bedroom while some woman rubs him down with oil. As hard as I try to drag my eyes away from his bubble butt in his tight, really small Speedos, I can’t. At least I’m not alone in the attire we have to wear, but keeping my dick contained could be a challenge.
Matt still refuses to look at me.
“Can we have a minute?” I ask the two assistants.
They glance at each other, then at Matt, and then back at me before shuffling out the door.
“M—”
“Not here, Noah.” His eyes dart behind me where the girls left. I guess anyone could be listening.
I step closer until I’m pressed against his back. “I’m sorry.”
“Okay.”
“I mean it. I truly am sorry. If you haven’t figured out by now, my mouth likes to speak without my brain’s permission.”
“Let’s just get this done.”
“Are we cool?” I ask.
His eyes in the mirror in front of us flick toward the door and then meet mine. “All good. Babe.” Leaning back, he kisses my cheek, and for a moment I’m lost—too busy enjoying being this close with his warm lips on me and his beard scraping my skin—but then I realize there’s someone standing at the door waiting for us to finish whatever we were doing. Or maybe they’re trying to get a scoop.