Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 98823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
He laughed at that as we arrived at the club level. “Well, eventually. At first, I did my damnedest to get expelled.”
“Didn’t work?”
“Nah. Most of the staff was scared of my father and his big checkbook for alumni donations. And it turned out I wasn’t particularly good at finding trouble.” Duncan slowed his footsteps as we left the elevator. “I kept getting caught by this teacher who said my dad was dead wrong about me being soft. He said I had what it took to make the academy, further if I wanted. Only teacher on the staff not cowed by my dad’s name, and he said I was better than how I was acting.”
“Wow. Let me guess. Former SEAL?” I said a fast thank you to the universe for providing Duncan with someone who believed in him more than his failure of a dad.
“Yup.” Duncan’s eyes were distant as we reached the hotel’s gym. “You should write a damn ballad about Frank Allen, the baddest math teacher ever. Spent his retirement turning scared boys into decent men.”
“I could do that.” My voice came out thick, and my hand shook as I used my room key to open the large, empty space full of exercise equipment. “Sounds like he deserves a song.”
“Deserves far more than that, but he would have been tickled by a song.”
I didn’t miss the past tense there, and I had to gulp. “I’m sorry—”
“Don’t be,” he said gruffly. “Now, let’s see if we can actually manage to put all your energy to good use.”
“Oh, I can keep pace.” I winked at him before taking the treadmill next to his. “But seriously, I’m glad you had someone in your corner, even if it sucks that it wasn’t your parents. And you are a better person than your father. I’m sorry I keep trying to corrupt you. I’ll stop.”
It fucking sucked that flirting with Duncan felt so damn amazing because he truly was admirable. His life could have gone any number of worse ways, and instead, he’d dedicated himself to being honorable. I couldn’t in good conscience keep poking someone so fucking good.
“Don’t.” He put a hand over my treadmill controls before I could hit Start. “Don’t stop.”
Our eyes met, the intensity in his gaze making me suck in a breath. My pulse sped up the same way it did before a big show, but this was more than restless energy. More like the rush of finding the absolute perfect line for a song, the one I knew I couldn’t wait to sing a thousand times. Each exhale felt significant. I could kiss him, and he wouldn’t stop me. It would be so damn easy to get drunk on that kind of power. And there was only one possible course of action for me.
Chapter Eleven
Duncan
“Catch me,” Ezra demanded, and I couldn’t tell whether his voice was a tease or command. I’d been expecting—anticipating, needing—him to kiss me, and his request made zero sense to my addled brain. I would have let him. Happily.
“What?” I was there for the taking. Why was he talking? I dropped my hand back to my side, trying to figure him out.
“I dare you.” His eyes sparkled, and his tone made the dare sound like the sexiest thing in the world. “Try to keep up.”
He hit the Start button on his treadmill. As it started up, he gave a deliberate glance to the left. Camera. Oh fuck. Of course, the gym would have a security camera. And I was supposed to be the cautious one here. I would have let him kiss me, photographic evidence be damned, and that he’d been the one to pull back left me humbled. And grateful.
“Thanks,” I mumbled.
“Don’t thank me.” He laughed. “I’m gonna kick your ass because it’s either outrun you or…”
“Run,” I said quickly before he could threaten the one thing I wanted more than oxygen.
He upped the speed, and it wasn’t long before I lost myself in the pleasure of running with someone who could indeed keep pace with me. Hell, Ezra could keep up with a well-oiled platoon of recruits. He laughed his way through several speed and incline increases, and as my lungs and hamstrings burned, a funny thing happened. All my usual tension faded, replaced by the high of a good workout, but more than endorphins, my brain felt more settled. The joy I found in Ezra’s presence was like a warmth spreading outward from my chest, loosening me more than alcohol ever had.
“You’re going to kill me.” Even though I laughed, I wasn’t even a little bit joking.
“Yeah, but what a way to go.” He kicked up the tempo again, a wide grin splitting his iconic face. We were the only two people in the hotel gym, and at that moment, we might as well have been the only two people on the planet. He was unequivocally beautiful, which wasn’t something I ordinarily associated with men, but there was no other descriptor for the way he seemed to glow. Other mere mortals ran on oxygen. Ezra ran on light, his energy so potent he appeared to be the one powering the treadmill instead of the other way around.