Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
“They’re good,” she promises. “They have a freaking sugar rim! Not exactly hardcore.”
Fuck it. I haven’t let my guard down in a long time. I haven’t had any fun for even longer. I tip back the shot, the saccharine sweet liquid barely having a chance to hit my tongue before it coats my throat and warms my belly. I pluck another shot glass out of Sutton’s hands and take that one, too.
“These things are dangerous! They taste like candy.”
Sutton squeals and takes the two that are left and then leads me through sweaty, carefree bodies to the dance floor. “Monsters” by Matchbook Romance starts to play—I know because one of the few times I could actually afford to buy Jess a birthday present, I got him Guitar Hero, and this particular song was our favorite to play. We start to dance, but I need to ditch my sweatshirt, so I hold up a finger, letting her know I’ll be right back. I spot an empty table and shove my way through the crowd to toss it on the back of a chair. Right when I reach the edge of the crowd, I try to take another step, but my shoelace is trapped under someone’s foot, and I pitch forward. My arms reflexively shoot out to break my fall. I squeeze my eyes shut and brace for impact. But it doesn’t come. Some unlucky bastard breaks my fall, and just when I think I’m going to take us both down, two strong palms steady me by my shoulders.
I puff a strand of hair out of my face and look up at the victim of my clumsiness. He’s tall with dark hair, a black tux, and his face painted in skull makeup. He’s creepy hot, which is coincidentally my favorite kind of hot. And then he lifts a brow, as if waiting for me to remove my hands from the silky lapels that sit on his hard chest and…I know those eyes.
“Sorry,” I say quickly and pull my hands back like his suit is on fire. The last thing Dare needs is another girl quite literally falling all over him. I bend over, swiping my hoodie off the sticky floor, and I’m about to walk away, when some girl moves in front of me, blocking my escape.
“Oh my God, Jack and Sally! That is the cutest couples’ costume I’ve ever seen! You guys have to enter the costume contest. You’ll totally win.”
She’s wearing a bunny costume, which is fitting seeing as how she’s talking a mile a minute like the goddamn Energizer Bunny.
“Oh, I’m not—” I start.
“Yeah, no, we’re not—” Dare says at the same time.
“Can I get a picture of you guys?” Energizer Bunny asks, cutting us off. I look to Dare, unsure of how to react. I don’t even know her, but if she’s here, she has to work at one of the participating businesses, so I assume Dare does. He responds by throwing an arm around my shoulder, pulling me close into his side. My insides flip at his nearness, and his scent, a mix of pine trees, wood, and something else I can’t put my finger on, makes it hard to not melt further into him.
I stand, body tense, not wanting him to see how he’s affecting me, and he slides his hand down to my hip. He grips it tight, too tight, but it’s not painful. He pulls me in even closer, dipping his head down to mine, and then his mouth is at my ear, his breath on my neck.
“Relax. I don’t bite. Unless you ask me to.” His thumb rubs my hip through the thin material of my dress, and my breath catches, my mouth popping open slightly. I turn my head toward his, but he faces forward, a devious smirk plastered to his face. And then a flash blinds me.
“One more!” E.B. yells over her lens. I expected her to pull out her phone to snap a quick photo, but clearly, I’m mistaken. A guy I didn’t notice before stands off behind her to her left, out of costume, toting what I’m assuming is her equipment bag, looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here. She must be an event photographer or something.
“Smile, Logan,” Dare says with another squeeze to my side. I do, giving the biggest, cheesiest one I can muster.
Another flash.
E.B. looks at the display on the camera, seemingly pleased with the shots as she nods to herself, and then she’s off, her assistant following dutifully behind her.
But Dare’s hand is still on my hip, and his eyes are burning into mine. I break away from his hold, making my way back to Sutton, forcing myself not to look back.
Sutton and I dance for a few songs before two guys in Mario and Luigi costumes join us. Mario is hot; Luigi is…well, not. But Sutton is into it, so I’m fine being the wing woman. I see nothing wrong with dancing with them…that is, until Luigi gets handsy. The first time he curves his hand around my hip, I brush it away and look over my shoulder to give him a warning glare. But when I feel his erection press against my ass, I’m out.