*First book in the Claremont Celebrities Series*
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Rylie Hickens is a small author living with her friends Nina and Mara. One morning after her friends went to the football game against Washington, Nina brought back a player from the opposing team...
I pull that paper from my jeans that that stranger gave me so quickly that I don't even have time to reconsider.
Anxiously waiting, I listen to almost every ring before a familiar voice breaks the silence in the bathroom and says, "Hello?"
"This is Rylie, I want to do that article thing."
"You saw the article too?"
"Yes, and I want to let people know how much of a liar he is."
I hear him chuckle, and if I wasn't so pissed right now I might have even found it enticing. But I am pissed, and still mopey about Dylan, so I just wait for him to say something.
"I'll come by tomorrow, we can go over the logistics,"
"Can you come right now?" I ask.
He pauses and I hear a female voice on the other side of the line. "I can come right now, yes."
"Good, I'll send you my mom's condo number."
"Okay, be there in a couple."
I question in my head how he can get here so quickly, but I don't ask. there is only one thing on my mind right now.
Getting the truth about my father into the world.
Йой! Нажаль, це зображення не відповідає нашим правилам. Щоб продовжити публікацію, будь ласка, видаліть його або завантажте інше.
The stranger-somehow I still haven't caught his name-knocks on the door exactly two minutes later.
How the hell?
I shake my head as I walk to the door, that's not important right now. What's important is giving him the facts so he can write them for me.
Opening the door for him, I pull a smile onto my lips. I probably looked like a drowned rat right now. I am wearing my favorite ratty sweats and a threadbare hoodie, my hair in a dripping wet messy bun.
I gesture for him to come in, and he does. I close the door behind him and beat him to the kitchen. "This isn't my house, but I'm sure I can find something to drink if you want."
"That's okay, this shouldn't take so long."
I just shrug and grab two wine glasses and a bottle of red.
He chuckles at the two glasses and says, "Trying to get me drunk?"
"I'm sure a glass of wine won't get you drunk." I let my eyes trail up his pretty much giant body.
I pour a glass for myself and say, "You don't have to, but I've had a long day so I'm going to have some. Help yourself when you want some."
He shrugs and pulls out a leather notebook from the messenger bag he brought. He ponders the wine for a second then finally pours himself a small glass and says, "This is good wine, why not."
