Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 137433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 550(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 550(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
I close the door behind us. The two girls in front of me look pissed.
“Switch clothes,” I order.
Bailey offers me her vacant, dopey stare. “Drop dead.”
“I will, probably soon from the heart attack you’re gonna give me from looking like a slut, but you’ll switch clothes with Maria first.”
“Excuse me?” Bailey screeches. “You’re wearing a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows and a thumb ring. You’re the epitome of a male slut.”
“I’m actually uncomfortable with this word in general,” Maria mutters, glancing between us in confusion.
“Bailey, change your fucking clothes,” I growl impatiently, shoving my hands into the front pockets of my dress pants.
I’m overdressed for sure, but I came here from a country club dinner with Dad for one of his big investors.
Maria and Bailey glance at one another. Maria wrinkles her nose. She is wearing a pair of baggy jeans and a plaid long-sleeved shirt.
I can tell Bailey doesn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable.
At her core, Dove is still a considerate person.
Bailey turns to me. “No,” her voice is resolute. “There’s nothing wrong with my outfit.”
“Yes, there is,” I counter. “It’s torn.”
“What are you talking about? It’s not—” But before she can complete the sentence, I step into her personal space, grab the collar of that stupid fishnet dress, and tear it from her body.
It falls behind her back in a tattered pile. “See? A total mess. You should be more careful next time.”
“What am I supposed to wear?” Maria shrieks. “Now that you destroyed her Pretty Woman costume?”
I unbutton my Brunello Cucinelli shirt and toss it Maria’s way. “It’s long enough to reach your knees and worth five Benjamins. You’re welcome.”
“And you’re delusional,” Maria growls in frustration.
Bailey whimpers, “Sorry,” to her. Then adds, “I’ll wear his shir—”
“No, you’re not,” I cut her off. “Be thankful I’m not wrapping the entire bed linen around you.”
Then I turn around to give them some privacy. After a couple minutes, Maria announces, “We’re done.”
I turn around, give her a couple hundred bucks and a promise to connect her with Ballsy, and send her and her soon-to-be crushed vagina on their way.
This leaves me with Bailey, who is currently two things:
1. Modestly dressed.
2. Fucking fuming.
“What are you doing here anyway?” She collects her yellow hair into a high bun. “Austin said you don’t even like Donnie.”
“Fun, in case it isn’t obvious.” My voice is dryer than David Duke’s wife. “What are you doing here?”
“None of your business,” she informs me. “As long as I’m sober—which I unfortunately am—I can do whatever I want.”
“And the pill you shared with fuckface?” I arch an eyebrow.
She shakes her head. “Gummy bear.”
Even after everything and all that was said and done, this still makes my heart dance in my chest.
“I’m happy to hear that,” I say softly.
“Is Thalia here?” She looks around the room, like the latter could crawl from under the bed and ambush her. I know what she’s really asking, and there’s nothing I want more than to assure her Thalia and I aren’t involved anymore. But maybe it’s best to clear things up with Thalia first.
“Not that I know of,” I answer, hoping, wishing, praying she can read between the lines and see that she has nothing to worry about.
Thalia isn’t competition. She never was. The only thing ever standing between us was fear of losing one another.
Bailey nods somberly. “Can I go?” She sniffs. “I really don’t want to talk to you right now.”
I can’t blame her, and I’m not even sure what to tell her right now, so I just gesture for the door, letting her know she is free to leave.
An hour later, I’m playing beer pong in the game room. Shirtless.
Grim and I split the football squad into two teams and are competing against each other.
If that’s not the height of irony, I don’t know what is. My team is winning, even though I got paired with Mac, who is just a little less capable than a wet fart.
Bailey is in my periphery all throughout the game, sipping from a can of Diet Coke and talking to her girlfriends.
“Wanna make this interesting?” Austin, who is on Grim’s team, asks.
“Strip beer pong is not a thing,” Finn chides him flatly. “And not everyone wants to see Ballsy’s two beach ball testicles.”
“Well, this is disappointing,” I hear Maria mumbling from the crowd.
Austin doesn’t miss a beat. “If we win, Cole gives Grim the captain badge.”
The entire room falls silent. Grim stares at me, blank-faced. The stakes are nonexistent to me, as I already told Coach I’m stepping down.
I just needed to officially loop Grim in, which I’d been meaning to do officially on Monday. Why the fuck not?
But I can’t be too obvious, so I ask, “And if I win?”
“You won’t win.” Grim doesn’t miss a beat. “But on the off chance that you do, I’ll give you a blank check. An open favor. Anything you want. Anytime. No questions asked.”