Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 71688 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71688 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
“No! I just want a tiny bit more than an anonymous hookup with a total stranger who sent me a photo of his schlong.” I plucked the phone from Lark’s hands and closed the app. “And that’s enough discussion about my sex life. Let’s talk about literally anything else.”
“Okay, fine,” Lark said, as he sat up straight and adjusted his beret. I noticed he’d applied eyeliner and lip gloss, and added a few silver rings and bracelets to his ensemble. “Instead, you can all tell me how cute I look.”
“You do look adorable, Lark,” Kel said sincerely. “I like your style. You know what? You and I should go shopping. I feel like I need…something. A makeover maybe? It’s time for a little ‘how Kellan got his groove back,’ if you know what I mean.”
He and Lark started to chat excitedly, until I whistled and exclaimed, “Damn, JoJo, you look hot!”
She sashayed into the room and struck a pose in front of the fireplace. Then she batted her false eyelashes and said, “Oh, this old thing? I just had it lying around.” JoJo was dressed in a mid-calf length red velvet dress that hugged every curve. There was some sort of gold shawl draped over her arm, which matched her gold heels, long, glittery earrings, and little gold clutch purse.
Yolanda’s mouth was hanging open. She got to her feet and gravitated to JoJo’s side as she whispered, “Wow, babe. You look amazing. I mean, you’re always beautiful, but…wow.”
JoJo ducked her head and grinned. “Thanks, Yo. You look gorgeous, too.”
Lark jumped to his feet and produced his phone from out of nowhere as he announced, “We need photos, and lots of them! Look over here, you two.”
The next few minutes were spent on a mini photo shoot. Yolanda and JoJo posed all over the living room. Then Kel had the four of us line up for some pictures. By the time Yolanda’s phone chimed with a text letting her know the cab was out front, my face hurt from all the smiling.
Yolanda asked, “Are we all set? Does everyone have what they need?”
We assured her we did, and then Lark begged, “Come with us, Kel. Please? It’ll be fun!”
Kel chewed his lower lip for a moment before saying, “It does seem like fun, but I’m not dressed.”
Yolanda rushed toward the front door and said, “I’ll go tell the cab to wait. Hurry up and change, Kel, but leave Winston at home, okay? They won’t let you in with a pet.”
He ran for the stairs as he exclaimed, “Give me five minutes!”
Lark ran after him and called, “I’ll help!”
It really did only take him five minutes. When he joined us on the front porch, he was dressed in a stylish black suit, a pink shirt that matched his hair, and a really nice pair of black loafers. Lark grinned and stuck a black clutch purse under his arm as he said, “Can you believe he had that just sitting in his closet?”
Kel looked sad. “I wanted to be ready, in case my closeted boyfriend ever invited me to any of the fancy events he’s always going to.” After a moment, he raised his chin defiantly and added, “But screw that. I can go out and have fun on my own.”
“Damn right you can,” JoJo said with a nod, which made her shoulder-length platinum curls bounce.
After Yolanda locked up behind us, we all piled into the cab. JoJo ended up in the passenger seat so she wouldn’t get “mussed,” and the rest of us crammed into the back. It was so crowded that Kel ended up sitting on my lap. He put an arm around my shoulders to steady himself and said, “Your sweater feels nice. Is it cashmere?”
“I have no idea.”
Lark was wedged right next to us. He twisted himself around and turned the back of my sweater inside out so he could read the tag. Then he announced, “Yup, it’s cashmere.”
I muttered, “Damn it, really?”
Lark looked confused. “Is that bad? Do they make the wool by, like, hunting wild cashmeres or something?”
Kel shook his head and explained, “Cashmere comes from goats.”
Lark’s wide eyes went even wider, and he squeaked, “They hunt goats?”
“No, they shave them,” Kel clarified.
Lark mulled that over for a few moments before looking at me and asking, “Why are you sad about the shaved goats, Casey? It probably doesn’t hurt them. It doesn’t hurt me when I shave my legs.”
I tried to explain, “No, I’m not sad about the…wait, why do you shave your legs?”
He looked at me like I was the one who was hopelessly confused. “Because otherwise they’d be hairy.” Then he shifted his gaze to Kel and said, “I bet a cashmere goat would be really soft and fluffy.”
Kel looked wistful. “I bet it would be. I want a goat so bad. A little baby one.”