Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106806 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106806 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
“What’s that?”
How much of that did I say out loud?
Hot guy shakes his head. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”
I smile, an idea occurring to me. I can’t break up with Chuck right before his big fight—not when Nathan has so much riding on it—but if Chuck breaks up with me, that wouldn’t be my fault, and maybe he’d still win just to prove that I lost my chance with a winner.
“What if I went home smelling like you? He’d be pissed. He doesn’t look at me half the time, but he’s possessive, and if I smelled like you, he’d probably be jealous.” I put one hand to that bare chest as if I can pick up the masculine scent of him with a single touch. “And even if it doesn’t work, at least you smell good, and you—” I bite my lip to keep my drunk ass from finishing that sentence. I’m rambling, but I don’t want to stop. I’m afraid if I stop talking, he’ll button up that shirt or something. Or just leave. “You do smell good.”
His expression shifts from irritated to amused. “Baby girl, typically I’d be happy to let you do whatever it is you think you want to do to me—especially since I’m going to have a roaring case of blue balls thanks to your little interruption—but you’re drunk as hell, and drunk chicks aren’t my thing.”
He starts to step around me, but I grab his wrist. “Please.” I’m not even sure what I’m asking for—only that I need his help to get it. “You don’t understand how awful it is. No sex. Grumpiness. And worst of all, he’s all buddy-buddy with my brother, who’s, like, the worst.”
He glances down to where my hand’s wrapped around his wrist. “I don’t know what you want from me.”
Sex, my lizard brain cries. But that part of my brain doesn’t understand STIs or stranger danger, so I muzzle her and think about his question. What do I want from him?
I blink and look around the room. Why did I come in here? Hot guy, yeah, but that was a happy surprise. I came in here— “I’m looking for my friend. She’s supposed to take me home.”
He releases a breath and stares at the ceiling, muttering something, but the only words I make out are fucking frat parties.
“I don’t like parties either,” I say. “I used to, but then I got a boyfriend and he’s no fun, so I stay home and pretend I care about the dumb shit he does, but tonight, Julie made me come because she said I’m going to get high blood pressure at a young age if I don’t let loose a little, but honestly, if she knew my family, she’d understand.” I look around the room. “Why did I come in here?”
“Julie?” the hot guy says. Does he know her? “Never heard of her,” he says, making me realize I must’ve asked the question out loud.
Right. Julie. I turn toward the hall, but he grabs my shoulders and stops me from behind.
“At this point, you’re a danger to yourself and others, and I can’t in good conscience let you return to that party.”
The room tilts again, but less severely this time. I step sideways and lean against the wall. Maybe if I just close my eyes for a minute, I’ll feel better.
“Nope.” His hands are on my shoulders again, drawing me away from the wall and making me stand on my own. “Don’t pass out on me. Let’s find your friend. Where’s your phone?”
I reluctantly search my pockets. I start to shake my head before I remember I tucked it into my bra. Hot guy’s eyes go wide as I delve into my shirt to retrieve it. “Here,” I say triumphantly.
“Do you always keep your phone in your bra?”
“Phone, ID, keys.” I shrug. “These girls can conceal quite a bit inside a padded cup, but jeans this tight? Not so much.”
His gaze skips down over my legs for a beat. “I noticed.”
I want to revel in those eyes on me, and I don’t know if it’s because I’m truly that hard up or because I’m so damn lonely. But he doesn’t give me a chance to revel in anything before he snags my phone.
“What’s your passcode?” he asks.
“Like I’d tell you.”
“I’d have you do it, but you’d stop halfway through to complain about your sex life again.”
Shit. I really need to sober up. “I did that?”
“Yeah,” he mutters. “A few times.” He holds up the phone, screen toward me, and I tap in the passcode.
“I should find Julie and go home,” I say, my eyes floating shut again. “Otherwise, I’ll end up in bed with you, and then Chuck will be pissed and lose his fight and Nathan will be fucked, which means I’ll be fucked. He says Chuck’s a sure thing, but why would they have him fighting this guy if there was no real competition?”