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.
Nothing else.
Nothing more.
I didn't even believe myself.
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