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Numbers.
They haunt me.
I can't look into a person's eyes without seeing the six-digit date of their death.
I’m helpless to change it, no matter how hard I try.
I’ve trained myself to look down. Away. Anywhere but at their eyes.
My camera is my escape. My salvation. Through its lens, I see only beauty and life—not death and despair.
Disconnected from all those around me, I’m content being alone, simply existing.
Until I meet him.
Tavian.
The man beyond the numbers.
How can I stay away, when everything about him draws me in?
But how can I fall in love, knowing exactly when it will expire?
They haunt me.
I can't look into a person's eyes without seeing the six-digit date of their death.
I’m helpless to change it, no matter how hard I try.
I’ve trained myself to look down. Away. Anywhere but at their eyes.
My camera is my escape. My salvation. Through its lens, I see only beauty and life—not death and despair.
Disconnected from all those around me, I’m content being alone, simply existing.
Until I meet him.
Tavian.
The man beyond the numbers.
How can I stay away, when everything about him draws me in?
But how can I fall in love, knowing exactly when it will expire?
The image of him from yesterday, climbing out of the cockpit and taking his helmet off after handling that F1 race car like he’d been born with a steering wheel in his hand, pops into my head and my thighs impulsively clench together. Holy rings of Saturn. Even though he was a sweaty mess, it was the sexiest I’ve seen him, and considering I’ve been treated to the sight of his naked abs a few times already, that’s pretty much impossible. The way he exuded command and control over the powerful deathtrap-on-wheels then stalked toward me like the badass he is… yeah, I had to chant “Unavailable, unavailable, unavailable,” over and over in my head to keep me from flinging myself at him.
“You do realize I’m the driver, right? And if my memory serves me correctly, I’ve done a pretty damn good job of keeping you safe and sound so far on this trip, especially considering how we started.” He glances over at me, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. “And to add to that, I think you’re having a much better time than you thought you would. Dare I say, despite your claim that you don’t ‘do people,’ you might even like getting to know one of your subjects. Namely, me.”
I turn to watch the groves of olive trees lining the Italian countryside whiz by out the window, hiding my grin. He’s right. We’re six days and three countries into this journey, and he’s done nothing but take care of everything, including me. From insisting I sleep in the bed while he took the couch in Barcelona, to always letting me choose where we go sightseeing and the restaurants we eat at, to cheering me up the minute he notices my mood turning gloomy, Tavian West is everything I could ask for in my first real adult friend… and more. I can’t deny it any longer. I’ve got a full-blown crush on the guy.
One that will stay my little secret.
About Erin Noelle USA Today Bestselling Author
Erin Noelle is a Texas native, where she lives with her husband and two
young daughters. While earning her degree in History, she rediscovered her love for reading that was first instilled by her grandmother when she was a young child. A lover of happily-ever-afters, both historical and current,Erin is an avid reader of all romance novels.
Most nights you can find her cuddled up in bed with her husband, her Kindle in hand and a sporting event of some sorts on television.
young daughters. While earning her degree in History, she rediscovered her love for reading that was first instilled by her grandmother when she was a young child. A lover of happily-ever-afters, both historical and current,Erin is an avid reader of all romance novels.
Most nights you can find her cuddled up in bed with her husband, her Kindle in hand and a sporting event of some sorts on television.
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