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)
Maddox nods in sympathy. “I don’t know how Damon does it. I mean, it’s one thing to go out and have fun, but around his clients, it’s like I have to tone down everything to prevent myself from doing or saying something stupid. Which, being me, it’s totally a possibility.”
That sounds about right.
My eyes gravitate toward Damon who’s talking with one of his up-and-comers in baseball. “His client roster’s certainly growing. You could become the little housewife one day.” I snicker.
Maddox ignores my jab. “I don’t know what’s worse: when he was at Columbia or working full-time. His schedule’s always been crazy, but right now it’s insane. Ever since the article that guy wrote came out, I rarely see him. I hate that Lennon guy.”
I, on the other hand, love that Lennon guy. Not at first, but the fact he didn’t go spreading Noah’s and my personal life all over his magazine, I figured he’s a good guy. And he and Noah have become close. “I thought I saw Lennon here before.”
“Isn’t that him on the other side of the bar?” Maddox says and points down the other end. “And … is that … is that Ollie Strömberg with him? Are they …” He squints in the dim light. “Uh-oh.”
“What?” I turn to where he’s looking and see the two blond guys laughing. And standing unnecessarily close to one another. Almost as if they’re … flirting. “As in hockey player Ollie Strömberg? Damon’s client?” Ollie’s gay?
“I’m guessing he doesn’t know he’s talking to a sports journo.”
“Fuck.”
“We should probably go rescue him before he outs himself to the press,” Maddox says.
“No shit.”
Before we get the chance to move, though, Noah and Damon swoop in from opposite directions, and I wonder if they spotted the same thing we did.
Lennon may not have posted Noah’s and my dirty laundry all over the media, but he did originally try to trick Noah into giving him a story. I don’t know a journalist alive who wouldn’t salivate over a scoop like a closeted athlete—I should know. Been there, lived through that, don’t need the T-shirt. Thanks.
While we watch and hold our breath for a train wreck to happen, my name gets yelled through the speakers.
“What?” I snap my head toward the stage to see my brother staring right at me.
“Geez, just like when we were kids,” JJ jokes into his mic, and the audience laughs.
I want to hide, but at the same time, I couldn’t be prouder of JJ. It was kinda a given that Noah would hire his band for this gig, but they’re absolutely rockin’ it.
“This next one’s for you, brother, so you have to actually pay attention,” JJ says and gets out his acoustic guitar.
When he starts strumming, I struggle to place the song, but when the lyrics start, I recognize it as the tune he’s hummed incessantly since we’ve been back in New York.
You don’t see me,
What I am,
Your ignorance is blind
The world ain’t ready,
But I don’t care
You can’t get rid of me now
’Cause,
He sees the light inside me,
Every part that’s good,
He loves me,
Even apart,
He’s still there,
He waited for a number,
A number that never came,
He wanted me out of his system,
But now I’ll never leave
He’s my soul
And I am his.
Halfway through the song, Noah reappears at my side, and I immediately lean against him. “It’s the song,” I say. “About us.”
“You and Jet?”
“No. You and me. Listen.”
After another verse, Noah whispers in my ear. “It’s perfect.”
Every emotion I’ve felt since meeting Noah surfaces. The ups, the downs, the resentment I held at first to realizing he’s one of the very few people in my life who are truly on my side … I have to try too dang hard to keep my eyes dry.
“Side note: it’d be rude to leave my own fundraiser to have sex with my husband, wouldn’t it?” Noah says.
“Probably.”
“The song’s right, you know. You have me. Always will.” Noah kisses my cheek. “There’s no number when it comes to you. We’re infinite.”