Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 100060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
I’m…angry, I realize. On Tobias’s behalf—which is so shocking, I should look out the window and see if pigs are flying. I’m also pretty peeved at myself for goading Tobias into telling me such a painful story. For being so dismissive of him when there are clearly undiscovered worlds behind the gorgeous façade. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Tobias,” I whisper, leaning over and kissing him on the cheek. “You get the night off from dick punches.”
“Kind of you,” he releases on a pent-up breath. For a moment, we can’t seem to stop looking at each other, but he’s obviously still raw from telling his story, because for once, he diverts attention from himself. “What about you, Banks?” He presses a hand to his cheek briefly, where I kissed him, and all I can do is stare. “Any tales of betrayal and woe stuffed in your closet?”
“No one reaches this age without experiencing a little betrayal.” Banks clears his throat, straightens. “None of them were quite as dramatic, though.”
Back to his irreverent self, Tobias drums his fingers on the bar. “Were they rugby betrayals, perhaps? He didn’t pass me the ball enough or he stole my clothes from the locker room and left me naked. That sort of thing?” Tobias shivers. “Scintillating.”
Loud voices reach me from the area surrounding the dance floor. Gabe. The ruckus is coming from the group in conversation with Gabe. The men he was laughing with only moments ago now appear to be having a laugh at his expense and it’s easy to see why. Gabe’s brother and his fiancé are right behind him on the dancefloor. So close he could reach out and touch them. They appear to be oblivious to how close they are to Gabe—but Gabe’s co-workers are not. They are cracking up, shoving him in the shoulder, pretending to spank an invisible ass, because men never fully mature, I guess.
“That’s my cue,” I mutter, stepping away from the bar—and stopping. Splitting a look between Tobias and Banks. “Are you two going to help him or not?”
I can see it. That glimmer of competitiveness that was on display in the Times food service room. Maybe they’re still hoping to edge each other out in the relationship race with me? If there was a hope in hell of a real relationship, I mean. What is wrong with them? I don’t know, but for several seconds, Tobias and Banks stare at each other, waiting to see what the other will do. And then, they simultaneously sigh and push away from the bar.
“I’ll create a diversion.” Tobias sighs. “It’s pretty much what I’ve been doing the entire evening just by looking like this.”
Banks groans. “How has nobody kicked this guy’s ass yet?”
He winks. “Too busy getting ass for them to catch me.”
I stare at him blankly.
“I hate him.” This, a simple statement from Banks. Then to me, “I’ll hang close to you and step in where necessary.”
Tobias holds out his right hand in front of him, picking up my left one and placing it on top, nodding for Banks to do the same. “Tram Fam on three.”
Banks and I drop our hands and walk away in disgust. As soon as I get within earshot of Gabe and the others, I’m cringing over what’s coming out of their mouths.
“You were just keeping her warm for big bro, right?”
A round of raunchy laughter. My skin crawls.
“Can you hear them going at it through the walls? Good thing you know how to insulate.”
“Maybe he doesn’t want to. Maybe he’s a cuckold.”
Two of them are doubled over at this point, holding their sides, tears of mirth rolling down their cheeks. And honestly, one would have to be drunk to think any of these one-liners are killing. I’m going to shut them up for the sake of comedy alone.
I arrive at Gabe’s side, pretending to be oblivious about what’s happening and I intertwine my fingers with his. The jokesters freeze in the act of sipping their drinks, a couple of pairs of eyebrows nearly hitting the ceiling. Satisfied that I have their attention, I lift up onto my toes and kiss Gabe’s ear, asking loud enough to be heard, “Can you take me upstairs now?” I open my mouth against the side of his throat and breathe heavily, eyes closed. It starts out as an act, but his sawdust and coffee and soap scent hits me in the pit of my stomach and claws lower until it’s me. It’s me wanting to inhale him. “I need you.”
Remembering myself and my mission, I pass a shy look around the circle of men.
“So sorry to steal him, gentlemen.” I stroke my finger along the curve of Gabe’s chin. “But I’m sure you all have dates to keep you company, right?”
At first, they just appear stunned by my arrival—and more than a little impressed, thank you very much—but my question soon sinks in and they begin to shift in their wingtips, like three trees blowing in different directions. “We’re stag tonight,” one of them says, finally.