Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 107077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
What’s even more strange is that Lola doesn’t do anything to enhance her beauty. She’s not wearing hair extensions or fake lashes. There isn’t makeup caked on her face or form-fitting outfits clinging to her body.
Her beauty is subtle and natural.
How didn’t I notice it before?
I eat at Taco Loco with regularity, and up until our first run-in when she didn’t want to seat us or take my order, I don’t remember seeing her. Now that she’s standing in front of me, I find it impossible to look away.
And no…that’s not the alcohol talking. My gaze flickers to the bottle in my hand. I’m still working on my first one. I’ve been nursing it for the last hour. My brow scrunches. I really don’t understand what’s going on with me. I’m not drinking like I usually do, and I’ve just turned down a threesome with two hot chicks.
I blink back to the present when all three girls lift small plastic shot glasses and clink the rims before belting back the liquid. As soon as the alcohol is drained, they scrunch their faces in unison.
“Whose idea was it to do a tequila shot?” Demi asks.
Lola points to Sydney, who shrugs with a grin.
“I’m pretty sure this occasion calls for a second round,” the blonde soccer player says.
“Hell, no.” Demi shakes her head. “That taste is going to linger in my mouth for a while.”
“It’s way better than other things that have a tendency to linger,” Sydney says with a snort before raising a brow at Lola in challenge. “How about you? One more shot in honor of the birthday girl?”
“Normally, I’m not much of a drinker.” She glances at me before adding, “But it’s been a rough week.”
Sydney flicks a look in my direction. “How about you?”
I shrug. “Sure, why not?”
She pours three shots and distributes them. “Wait! I knew we were missing something.” She grabs the saltshaker and a small bowl of cut-up limes.
We each lick a small patch of skin between our thumb and pointer finger before sprinkling salt on it.
Lifting our shots, Sydney says, “To Demi’s twenty-second birthday!”
Lola and I echo the sentiment before raising the miniature glasses to our lips and tossing back the liquor.
Well, hell.
The alcohol might be smooth, but it still burns a fiery trail down my throat. As soon as I set the glass on the counter, I glance at Lola, who already has a lime between her teeth. Instead of grabbing my own, I wrap my fingers around her neck and bring her mouth to mine so I can steal the wedge. My lips linger for a few seconds before reluctantly backing away to meet her wide gaze.
When a surprised giggle escapes, she claps a hand over her mouth to keep the sound trapped inside. Her shoulders shake as mine do the same. This Lola is different from the one I’ve been spending time with. I can’t say that I don’t like when she unbends just a little and lets her guard down.
Brayden and Rowan make their way into the kitchen before each of them wraps their arms around their respective girlfriends. It’s tempting to tug Lola to me, but she’s not mine. A little pang of longing flares to life deep within before I stomp it down.
What’s weird is that I’ve never wanted that kind of relationship or been interested in having a girlfriend. I’ve always enjoyed doing whatever I wanted and not being held accountable to anyone but myself.
Life is just easier that way.
Except…
I don’t know.
It feels like something is shifting beneath my feet and I can’t stop it from happening. Uncomfortable with the thoughts swirling through my brain, I shove them away and nod toward the dining room, where all the drinking games are set up.
“Any interest in playing beer pong?”
She glances in that direction. I’m expecting a solid no in response. You can imagine my surprise when she says, “Sure.”
I grab her hand for the second time this evening as we make our way into the other room and watch the game already in progress. When one team loses, we join in on the action. Crosby and I are on one side of the table while Lola and Brooke stand on the other.
Little does this girl know that I’m a beer pong master. I’ve spent years cultivating and honing my skills. Ten minutes later and I haven’t missed a single shot. Lola pouts as I make her drink another plastic cup of beer. It’s kind of adorable. Playful Lola isn’t someone I’ve met before. But she’s out tonight, and I’m here for it.
Brooke is laughing and drinking as well. It only takes a few well-placed shots to win us the game. Crosby walks around the table before tugging his girlfriend into his arms and nuzzling the side of her neck.