Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 75195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
I frowned during their whole conversation. It was all selfishness and jealousy. I would have rather been in that bedroom with Nova, showing her all the things I could do to her body with that tie.
Once the roommate left, I had to call her. I wrongly thought it would satisfy me until we met for our second date.
That call didn’t help.
Once I hung up the phone, my mind wandered. I thought about her lips, about the way she would look naked and wearing only my tie, and even about all the things I wanted to do to her.
Was I turning into some drug fiend? Was this what addiction felt like?
I dragged myself out of the studio, talked to Dominic, and caught him up on everything.
Not only did he promise to put people on Nova immediately, he also said he would come over to hang out with me.
Clearly. . .he must have heard the anxiety in my voice.
An hour later, Dominic and I left my condo’s elevator and stepped onto my roof.
A good work out will clear my mind.
I had many properties around the world, but the crowning jewel of my penthouse in Paradise City was the rooftop fitness center that it boasted.
It had a state-of-the-art boxing ring, which was meticulously crafted from the finest materials—custom-dyed Italian leather mat and plush ropes.
Crystal chandeliers hung above it.
Surrounding the entire space was a series of floor-to-ceiling windows, offering panoramic views of the skyline.
Yes. A workout will do it.
This morning, the sun sat high in the sky, casting golden light across the exquisite rooftop garden that enveloped one side of the boxing ring.
Next to that garden, my day chef, Abe cut strawberries right from the vine. It was one of the ingredients for my after work-out drink.
A high-tech juicing station stood by the garden.
Soon, Abe would prepare a special concoction for Dominic and me—a blend of rare and potent elements designed to promote muscle repair and rejuvenation.
On the back wall, a series of large, ultra-thin screens adorned the space, displaying news reports from around the world.
However, all the TVs were muted.
Instead, Nirvana’s Heart-Shaped Box played on the speakers. The heavy distorted guitar riffs and even Kurt Cobain’s haunting vocals gave the space a dark and moody atmosphere.
I climbed into the boxing ring, yanked off my black t-shirt, and flung it on the ropes.
Dominic followed me in, wearing only black shorts and sneakers. His brown hair was combed back into a small ponytail.
“You should tell Abe to have the phone close to him.” Dominic stretched those big arms of his.
“Why?”
Dominic grinned. “Because I may put you in the hospital.”
“Already bragging on your nonexistent skills?” I smirked, knowing that he actually could put me in the hospital if he wanted to.
“Why are you playing Nirvana?” Dominic leaned his head to the side and cracked his neck. “No heavy rock today?”
I bounced on my toes, warming up my muscles for the fight. “Nirvana keeps me focused.”
Dominic swung his arms in wide circles and scanned the space. Every time he moved, a ripple of muscle flexed across his body. “When it comes to hitting me in my face, you usually don’t have a problem with focus.”
“Very true. After all these years, you’d think I’d get bored of hitting you.” Chuckling, I did high knee lifts and leg swings, making sure each movement was fluid and as precise as possible.
“Tristan, do you know why I always love when you do an art showing in Paradise City?”
“Because we get to hang out together.”
“Yes, but it is deeper than that.” Dominic cracked his neck on the right and then gestured around the ring. “Every time I come up here, I realize how far we have come.”
A strange mix of dread and anger welled up inside of me.
I knew where Dominic was going. . .down the twisted road of memories. That was the only bad part about staying in touch with him. He loved gazing back at the past, and I only yearned to erase it all from my mind and soul.
“When we were kids, we never imagined our lives would be this good.” Dominic touched his chest. “Personally, I thought I would be dead by eighteen.”
“You almost were.”
“Think of all the trouble we got into as kids. The fights. The drugs. The stolen cars.” Dominic gave me a sad smile. “We went from hard-headed hoodlums to owners of a high tech security firm and a constantly talked about famous artist. It all seems like. . .a lifetime ago.”
“It was a lifetime ago.” Frowning, I stretched my arms.
“Tristan, I survived and live a better life. . .thanks to you.”
I pushed aside my unease when it came about thinking of the old days and put on my sparring gloves. “I would appreciate less talk, and more fight.”
“Yes. Yes.” Dominic placed his gloves on too. “Let us get to your favorite part—the hitting.”