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“I still can’t believe you did that,” she said for the tenth time, shaking her head. “Did you buy out their entire selection?”
“They can order more,” I reassured her. “They’re in the business of selling books. That’s what they do.”
“Mr. Romance over here,” Paxton taunted, squeezing Mylee’s knee.
She scowled at him lightly. “It was sweet. All those books—it inspired me to start writing again, actually.”
“You write?” Kai asked, echoing my own question. It wasn’t a stretch for a voracious reader.
She nodded, a smile forming on her lips, the interior lighting of the limo casting an angelic glow around her face. “Reading and writing were always an escape for me,” she said. “I guess I got so busy with living, I kind of put all that aside—”
Screech! Pop!
The vehicle swung to the side and collided with the car beside it, smoke flooding the interior of the cabin. The limo struggled to find its path back on the road as our bodies flung forward and sideways, but the effort was futile.
“Oh, my god!” Mylee screamed as the limo lost control, crashing into a second and then a third vehicle. She fell forward, crashing into me with my partners, the four of us piling onto the ground as the limo started to spin and then flip…
And Mylee’s howls of terror flooded the night air.
CHAPTER12
Mylee
Lincoln brushed a strand of hair out of my face, his eyes raking worriedly over me.
“Stop fussing over me, Linc,” I begged, sitting up against the pillows of my oversized bed. “I’m not hurt. I swear. The doctors at the hospital already checked me out. Nothing more than bruising. We’re all really lucky.”
“You really should rest and let me get another doctor in here.”
“You were in the same accident,” I reminded him dryly, the aftershock wearing off now as I looked him over, too.
He had made me get dressed in pajamas, insisting I needed to get into bed. He was still in his tux. His clothes were scruffy and ruined, the bowtie askew from the accident.
“Are you sure the others aren’t hurt?” I asked for what seemed like the hundredth time.
“I’m sure. They’re downstairs right now. Do you want me to get them?” He moved to stand, but I stopped him, grabbing his arm before he could leave my bedside.
“How did the accident happen?” I demanded. “Was anyone hurt in the other cars? The driver?”
“No one was injured. I promise.” He sat back down and readjusted the covers around me, but I pushed them away and rose onto my knees, relief overtaking me.
He had carried me, half-kicking, all the way up to my room once we had arrived back at Gable Place Towers, but now that we were alone, I appreciated the effort he’d gone through to ensure I was safe. The shock had worn off now, and with his reassurances, I was feeling peace.
“Thank you,” I rasped, putting my hand on his cheek.
He appeared surprised by my declaration and turned to look at me.
“For what?”
“For everything. I was acting hysterically earlier.”
He shrugged and grinned mirthlessly. “It was understandable. I probably shouldn’t have slung you over my shoulder like that, but I wanted to get you out of the front of the building before the paparazzi and police showed up. It can be a shitshow when that happens.”
I let my hand linger on his cheek, a burst of heat rushing through me suddenly, the adrenaline from the accident coursing through me in a rush. Lincoln’s verdant pupils dilated as he looked at me, an understanding illuminating his face as he read the desire on my face.
“Do you like it here, Mylee?” he asked, turning his face fully toward me.
“Uh huh.”
