Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Needing to shift my focus from the other side of the country, I ask, “Did you pump for little Miss Piggy? We don’t want her getting tipsy from mommy having too many wines.” I coo my last words when Holly-Marie Jessmina’s big blue eyes peer up at me from her makeshift crib at the side of my room. She’s happy staring at the posters of Zac Efron I had on my wall when I was a teen. He grew along with my fascination of men, going from a teen heartthrob to a man I’d call ‘daddy’ if requested. “He’s pretty, isn’t he? But he’s nowhere near as pretty as you.”
Any chances of me becoming clucky are thrown out the window when my wish to suffocate my goddaughter with cuddles sees the sleeve of my dress covered in curdled breastmilk.
“Babies are gross,” I mutter to myself before placing Holly-Marie back into her crib and sauntering to my closet to find another dress suitable for a bachelorette party.
I’m not seeking a man’s attention.
Heidi merely wants a handful of playful shots to add to her Instagram story.
Since she is friends with Caleb, who was I to say no?
My brows twist when we enter the establishment hosting Serenity’s bachelorette party. “Are we sure Fitz only works in security? This place is nice.”
Hued lighting, fancy booths, and a dance floor that looks like it is sanded, varnished, and polished every day before opening.
“Serenity hasn’t said.” Heidi’s reply is interrupted by the woman of the hour waving us over.
After introducing us to her younger sister and mother like we’ve not already met, Serenity offers to take our jackets. “Wow, Jessie. That’s one hell of a dress.” I’m too flattered by her compliment to pull her up on the nickname. I’d rather people stick with Jess. Jessie is too significant to me to have its impact weakened by everyone using it. “Will you be able to dance in that dress? Looks a little tight around the thighs.”
Others would mistake Serenity’s question as rude. I don’t. She is one of the kindest people you will ever meet. That’s why it hurt so much that Warren targeted her.
I didn’t realize at the time why he did that. It was only after talking about it with my father did it dawn on me that Serenity’s concerns about Warren’s controlling ways were the loudest of them all. She was with me when I purchased the dress Warren refused for me to wear, and when she noticed it was left on my bed, she brought it with her to festivities in case I wanted to get changed because she knew how much I loved it.
He targeted her to silence her, and his plan worked until she met Fitz.
When I break out the moves, wordlessly assuring Serenity my mini-hemmed jumpsuit won’t hinder my ability to party, it will double it, she hollers loudly before handing me a shot of tequila. “The perfect on-stage getup.”
I clink my glass against her before downing my shot. As I gather the salt from my lips, the lights on the stage dim, announcing to Serenity’s guests that the show is about to commence.
“They didn’t waste any time,” I shout to Heidi, screaming over the doof doof music Caleb regularly thrusts his hips to.
“No, no, I’m fine,” I assure Serenity when she attempts to pull me onto the stage with her. It’s her night, and although I may be the only one still single in our group of friends, I don’t want some random dude’s junk grinding against my crotch.
“Come on. It’ll be fun.”
“For you,” I assure Serenity. “It will be fun for you.”
When she doesn’t take no for an answer, I grab a second nip of tequila from the bar, down it without salt or lemon, then stand next to her on stage, feeling oddly out of place. I would have fled for the closest exit if Serenity wasn’t gripping my hand as if she is as nervous as me.
The butterflies taking flight in my stomach manifest when a lady with a bright smile and kind eyes enters the stage from the left. She reminds Serenity’s guests of the rules before placing a chair into the middle of the stage and plonking my backside on it.
“I’m not the bride-to-be,” I advise her when she pulls my hands in front of me and binds them with a flimsy yet oddly durable length of satin.
Either she is deaf or the chant of the crowd when Serenity joins them on the dance floor has her missing what I said because not only does she ignore me, but she also spins around to hype the crowd for her ‘performer’ before he enters the stage through the same curtains she did.
What.
The.
Fuck.
I blink in rapid succession, certain the man approaching me in Velcro-latched pants and a white shirt clinging to every bump in his stomach isn’t who I think it is.