Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“I’ll call Harley.”
Chapter Eight
Jordan
“Let me get this straight,” I say as Blake and I board a chartered plane. I’m a little hungover and a lot confused. “You tell Harley Valentine I’m having guy trouble, need a place to hide out, and that our movie has been put on hold, and his first reaction is to say ‘Chuck him on a plane and we’ll have a band writing retreat while we’re at it’?”
“That’s Harley for you. A great friend but a workaholic all the same. Seize the moment! Take every chance we get at pulling together what he’s calling our Encore tour.” Blake shoves a duffle bag in an overhead compartment, while I throw myself on the large leather recliner and do up my seat belt.
“Then tell me something. Why’s it just you and me on the plane?”
“You mean apart from there being no room because of the billions of bags you brought? How long do you expect us to be gone?”
I might have overpacked. “I have no idea. That’s why I wanted to be prepared.”
“I’m giving you shit. The real answer to your question is not too long ago, the paparazzi found Mason’s cabin in Montana—”
“Ooh, is this going to be a Cabin in the Woods type situation? Are we all going to be in this run-down shack trying to avoid being killed?”
Blake scoffs. “Sure. Run-down shack. Uh-huh. Anyway, the others are meeting us there because all five members of Eleven in one place always brings out the reunion rumors, and we’re not ready to announce anything yet. We’re all taking turns in getting there to try not to arouse suspicion.”
“This is like boy band ninja stuff. I like it.”
“Don’t you mean man band?” Blake taunts.
A flitter of an embarrassing memory tries to play back through my head. “I said that?”
“Numerous times.”
“And you guys still want me around?”
“Montana’s the perfect place for you right now. Mason’s house is in the middle of nowhere, and it’s like a winter wonderland this time of year. You can chill by the fire, stay in your room, mope, sulk … do all the depressing things heartbroken people do.”
I grunt. “Any gay bars in Montana? I need a rebound.”
“You’ll have to ask Mason, though I’m not sure he’d even know.”
“Are Mason and Denver open?”
“I’d think you’re shit outta luck, but if you want to try, that’s something I’m willing to watch. Secondhand embarrassment is always fun.”
“For the people it’s not happening to!”
“Exactly.”
“Why are we friends again?” I ask.
“Because you met me and made a stupid bet. Make stupid bets, gain stupid friends … wait.”
“I know you’re trying to cheer me up, and I appreciate it, but it’s not working.”
Apparently, my breakup with Ben will take longer than twenty-four hours to get over. What the fuck is up with that?
I can’t believe I went and got attached. To a dickhead of all people.
“You okay?” Blake asks.
I force the easygoing nature I’m known for. “Hungover.”
“Try to sleep. It’s a few hours before we get there.”
I manage to get some sleep but not much, and as the plane lands, Blake throws me my thick jacket and stares intently.
“What?” I ask.
“Okay, this goes without saying, but whatever happens, whatever you see here, no matter what is said or done, it all stays here. Got it?”
“Are you about to tell me Eleven are secretly into orgies and I’m about to be inducted into your boy band of—” I push down my growing erection. “Okay, I can’t even joke about that without getting too excited.”
Blake stands and slaps my shoulder. “Get your head out of the gutter. What I’m saying is, I know you’re already aware of Harley’s closeted situation, and you have suspicions about Ryder, and you think they’re together—”
“Cone of silence. Whatever I find out on this trip will stay between you and me.”
He leads me off the plane without saying another word. I was kind of hoping for some confirmation of the popular belief that Harley and Ryder are in loooove.
It’s a small airport, so small that when we hit the tarmac, there’s an Escalade waiting for us right there.
We climb right in while the crew loads up our bags in the back, and I turn to Blake.
“Are you saying that Harley and Ryder are actually a couple?”
Our driver, a big tank of a man, starts coughing.
“You okay there, Brix?” Blake asks. “Sounds like you’re choking on something that might resemble jealousy.”
My gaze flicks between Blake and … Brix.
“Harley and Ryder are not together,” Brix grumbles.
“Oh.” Realization hits me. “Oh. Harley and his driver?”
Brix grumbles something again, but I can’t make it out, and Blake laughs.
“Brix here is head of Harley’s security team.” He leans forward and asks Brix, “Where is Harley?”
“At the house with Denver and Mason. Ryder and Lyric will be here in a few hours.”
“Lyric …” I say. “Wait, Lyric Jones? He and Ryder?”