Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 151044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 755(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 755(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
“I don’t need to bitch.”
“Sure.”
Thirty minutes later I was three shots deep, hunched over a plate of sweet potato fries spilling my guts.
“He just dropped that bomb on me, like he was talking about a sort of coffee pot he owned or a pair of boots he liked.”
“So you have sisters. Why is that necessarily a bad thing?”
“I do not have sisters. I have a father who abandoned me to live his best life in Pennsylvania with his new family since his old one didn’t meet his standards for whatever fucking reason.”
“Did he give you a reason for leaving?”
“He said Oregon never felt right.” I shoved a fry in my mouth. “We could have moved! As a family!”
The waitress approached, but before she could interrupt my meltdown, Barrett swirled his finger in the air silently ordering another round. “I’m sorry he disappointed you.”
I scoffed and flopped back in my seat. “It’s not even him. I expected this to be complicated and emotional. It’s everything else.”
“Are things okay with you and Hale?”
I waved a hand. “We’re fine.” When he waited for me to go on, I confessed, “Elle and I had a fight. A big one.” I held out my hands like I was measuring a trout, then extended them as far as my arms could reach. “Huge.”
“About what?”
“Her dumb ass boyfriend.” I didn’t think it would be helpful to mention that the fight also had to do with the Davenports.
“She’s dating him now?”
I stilled and looked up, noting the tension that now bracketed his eyes. Fuck. On account of the tequila I wasn’t selecting my words carefully. “I’m sorry, Barrett.”
“It’s cool. We’re not together anymore. She can fuck whoever she wants.”
Ouch. “If it’s any consolation, he’s a total tool.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “It’s not.”
I studied him for a long minute, still not fully understanding why two people who obviously liked each other couldn’t work their shit out.
The waitress arrived with more shots and I lifted mine. “To alcohol,” I toasted.
Two hours later we had relocated to a tavern on 59th. I could barely walk, but Barrett proved an excellent holder-upper.
“Are you jealous of all the attention Hale’s getting?” I slurred, chasing my straw with my mouth as it dubiously escaped.
We were piled into a booth that faced a stage. Instruments were set up as if a band were about to play but there were no musicians in sight. Classic rock pumped from the speakers.
“Jealous? Of Hale?”
“They’re talking about making him smexiest man alive.” I sloshed my cocktail, too smashed to recall what was in my cup. “He’s very dreamy, you know?” I snorted. “I’d do him.”
“No way is Hale making the cut. I’ve been on that list for years and never won.”
I laughed, because he was clearly jealous. Barrett had always been the pretty one—or the hot one, as Elle used to call him. Now, Hale was stealing his thunder.
“The world’s wondering what the hell he’s doing with me.” So not to spill my drink, I leaned forward and sipped from my straw without actually lifting my glass off the table. “I’m his Lord Farquaad, which I’m pretty sure is supposed to sound like Lord Fuck-wad.”
“Who?”
“This short king dude on Shrek. Hale’s the perfect princess.”
“You didn’t really pay attention during that movie, did you?”
I shrugged. “Why? Do you think I’m more of an ogre?” The tabloids had said as much.
“What are you talking about? You’re the hot factor. Before he was with you, he was just boring old Hale. You elevated him.”
“I’m not an elevator.”
He laughed. “You know what I mean.”
I shut one eye and squinted at him. “Not really.”
“The world wants what they can’t have, Meyers. You took him off the market and made him more desirable.”
“I did that?” I asked, plastering my hand to my chest.
“You did that.”
My insides turned warm and gooey. “Well, the world can eat a dick. He’s my Hale. I found him first.”
His mouth curved ever so slightly as he studied me. “He’s always been lucky.”
I cocked my head. “How come you’re not so drunk as I—hic—” I hiccupped. “Feel?”
He patted my shoulder, “Because I actually ate my dinner and you’ve had all of three French fries tonight. We should get something else in your stomach.”
I hiccupped again and laughed. “I’m not supposed to be eating this crap. Everyone keeps saying I need to watch my figure for the wedding.”
He frowned. “Who said that?”
“The people.” I took another sip of my drink then mimicked. “Go to the gym, Rayne. Don’t eat fried foods, Rayne. Cut out sodium, Rayne. Here’s some ass fat to inject in your elevens.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“My elevens.” I swung around to face him and pointed to the oh fuck creases between my eyebrows. “These indents right here.”
His silver eyes rolled upwards as he looked where my fingers pointed. Then he glanced down at my mouth. We were very close.