I'm deperately trying to finish Dethroning Crown.
Here's your teaser for today! Enjoy! (unedited)
While we worked out in the backyard, I looked to Lyra’s windows every chance I got. I didn’t understand my obsession. I was stuck on her—needing to know what she was doing or what carb-loaded thing she was eating or if she was scared again.
She hadn’t said anything about the night before and I hadn’t brought it up.
Between sets, my eyes were locked on her back door.
Every noise made me think she was coming outside.
Blake was making me do some weird squat things and after about four, I heard a snort and turned around to see him laughing his ass off. His shoulders were shaking and even his damned nostrils were flaring.
What a dill weed.
“What’s so funny?”
That caused a whole new round of laughing and knee slapping.
“Don’t you ever—ever—bag on me for getting calls from my wife. Ever!”
My eyebrows scrunched together. “What?”
“You are so caught up in what’s going on with the girl next door that you don’t even know what you’re doing. We stopped doing squats three sets ago. I’m over here doing stretches and you’re back to squats with your eyes on her window. Stalker, much?”
“Shut up. At least I don’t get calls from my ‘beautiful wife’ ten times a day.”
He huffed. “It’s gorgeous wife. And you look like a phone call from her would just make your day. I have six brothers, Crown. I know that look when I see it.”
“You don’t know shit.”
Blake went through some more exercises that he wanted me to do on my own. By the time we were finished, I was exhausted. Carrying around that bum knee was more work than soccer ever was.
“Get some rest. You still tapering off on the meds?”
He started making notes about me again. I hated when he did that.
“I’m just taking them mainly at night when it starts swelling.”
He nodded. “
Well, ice it down now and if you need to take one before night, do it.”
“Yeah. How long has it been?”
“You’ve been here three weeks today. But you’re back on schedule since you got off your ass. So, maybe just another three weeks and you’re out of here. Back to your celebrity status.”
A blaze of concern shot through me. Three weeks wasn’t a lot of time.
I needed more time with her—to get as much publicity as possible, of course.
I didn't even believe myself.