Page 11 of Breaking Hollywood

“Ready to move?”

“Yep.”

We start to walk, and, Jesus, he wasn’t kidding. He weighs a freaking ton, and I don’t think he’s putting much of his weight on me.

But it’s a ton of pure muscle.

Under my fingers, I can feel the ridges of those muscles in his back.

I bet his stomach is like a washboard that I would want to scrub my face all over.

And he smells good. So good.

The annoying thing about this is that I can smell the cigarette smoke on him along with the mints he ate in between smokes and the clean scent of his aftershave. Somehow, mixed together, it just works. I want to hate it, but I can’t.

It’s making my girlie parts tingle with excitement.

He smells exactly like I’d want to after a night of amazing sex.

I have a flash of being in bed with him. Him hovering over me as he moves inside me. My fingers digging into the hard muscles in his back, like they are right now.

And, now, I have a sweat on, and it’s not from lugging him around.

Great.

We reach the main doors. They whoosh open, and we walk straight into the busy reception area.

I feel Gabriel tense.

“You okay?” I ask him.

“Yeah, I just don’t want to get noticed.”

“Okay, let’s keep moving. Where’s the emergency care department?”

“We need Pediatrics, on the fifth floor.”

I stare up at him. “Pediatrics?”

“That’s where Tate works.”

“Tate’s your brother?”

“Yes.”

“He’s a doctor for kids?”

“What gave it away? When I said he worked in Pediatrics?”

“Funny, Hoppy.” I pull a face at him. “God, I hope your brother is nicer than you,” I add as I steer him in the direction of the elevators.

“He is. A lot nicer. And don’t call me that.”

“What? Hoppy?”

“Yeah. It sounds like something a cartoon character would be called. It’s very emasculating.”

I laugh. “And Speedy is so flattering.”