Fueled(book two)(123)

“Too bad,” she murmurs. “Looking at him during a four hour meeting would definitely put some pep in anybody’s step.” Her hearty laugh comes through the line, and I can hear it echo in stereo outside my office door.

“You’re incorrigible, Stella. What time do I have to be there?”

“They’re sending a car for you. It’ll be here in just under thirty minutes.”

Sending a car? Tawny probably wants to make sure I have no way to escape her evil plans for me. I snort a laugh at my thoughts and bring a hand up to cover my mouth to stifle it. “Okay, Stell…I don’t like it but I guess I have no choice, huh?”

“Nope,” she agrees before I disconnect the line.

“Fucking great!” I mutter aloud before reaching for a tootsie roll in the bowl on my desk. I think I’m going to need the whole lot of them to help me cope with the rest of my afternoon.





“We’re almost there,” Sammy says from the driver’s seat. “About ten more minutes.”

“Okay. Thanks, Sammy,” I murmur as I take in the beautiful interior of the G-class SUV. This must be yet another one of his collection of cars. I fight the smirk that wants to come. I don’t think it matters how many he has; Sex is definitely my favorite.

Sammy glances at me in the rearview mirror, and I smile at him. I was shocked when he was the one who came to pick me up. I told him so, expressing that I was surprised Colton had left him behind on his trip. I thought that they were inseparable. Sammy had just given me a non-committal shrug without saying a word. And now my overactive imagination starts to roam on the ride over, and I begin to worry about Colton. What if he needs help to keep some crazy, irrational fan away from him and Sammy’s not there to help protect him? I shake my head, telling myself I’m crazy. Colton admitted to me he was quick to throw down in his youth. I’m pretty sure he could hold his own if he needed to.

My phone beeps a text and I pull it out of my purse, a smile spreading on my face when I see it’s from Colton.

Beckett scolded me for not giving you romantic gestures. RME. He says I need to give you the flowers and poetry variety. Here’s the closest I get and the best we could come up with. Roses are red. Violets are blue. Sitting in Nashville. Thinking of you.

I laugh out loud at the image of Beckett and Colton sitting in Nashville and having a discussion about me. I can very clearly see Colton rolling his eyes at Beckett’s big brotherly recommendation of romantic gestures, all the while making up a nursery school rhyme to send to me instead. I quickly pull up the web on my phone and search for different versions of the preschool poem. After a few different links, I find the perfect one.

How sweet! And you said you didn’t do romance. Be still my beating heart. Those must be some really boring meetings. Now, I have one for you. Roses are red. Violets are blue. I’m using my hand, while thinking of you. Xx.

I smirk as I hit send, pleased with my witty response and wishing I could see his face as he reads it. We drive a couple more minutes when my phone chimes again.

FYI – Dick’s hard like a teenage boy. My turn—typing with one hand now: Roses are red. Lemons are sour. If you open your legs, I’ll be there in an hour.

I bite back the laugh that bubbles up in my throat, squeezing my knees together to stifle the ache our little text tête-à-tête has stirred up. I look up and meet Sammy’s eyes in the mirror, my cheeks blushing as if he knows what I’m reading, the dirty thoughts I’m thinking. I quickly avert my eyes and reply.

Quite the poet, Ace. Too bad you’re not here. The flight’s at least four hours. I don’t know if I can wait that long. Might just have to take care of myself. xx Gotta go. I need my hands for other things now.