Page 147 of The Bridges I've Burned

me

Yeah, just ready to get out of here.

Lance

Are you saying the hotel I booked you isn’t good enough? The view is gorgeous. You should really try the eggs Benedict.

me

What? No. I just want to get to New York.

I looked out toward the water as I sat on the patio of the luxury suite Lance had booked for my overnight stay in Virginia Beach.

By the time I’d caught the last ferry and driven up the coast, it was too late to catch a flight to New York.

So, he’d sent me here.

It was the most expensive hotel in the city—because, according to Lance, rock stars didn’t stay at just any hotel.

No, they stayed at the best.

I’d nearly shit myself when I saw the cost per night.

Eggs Benedict?

Wait, what the fuck?

My brain suddenly skidded to a halt as I remembered the last part of his text. How the hell did he know?—

Someone knocked on my door, and I found myself grinning instantly.

Getting up from the chaise, I padded toward the front of the suite and pulled open the door, not even bothering to check who it was.

I already knew.

“I was kind of hoping to antagonize you a little longer, but then you stopped answering my texts, and we’re kind of on a schedule.”

Lance Creed stood in the hallway in his typical reformed rock-star style. Jeans, a fitted tee, and a blazer. His gray beard and tats meant he always stood out in a roomful of suits, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, pulling him in for a tight hug.

“You think we were going to let you go to your first big-boy concert alone?”

“We?”

“Hendrix is downstairs, getting coffee,” he explained, pointing toward the elevator before he swung his head back to me. “Jesus, are you going to cry?”

“What?” I scoffed, blinking several times. “No, I have allergies.”

You guys came all the way here for me?

A smirk tugged at his lips. “Well, come on, crybaby. Let’s go make you famous.”

ELENA

Enjoy the wedding.

Enjoy the wedding?

---