Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 54383 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 272(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 181(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54383 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 272(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 181(@300wpm)
The glittering red top makes my C-cups look like Double Ds from every angle. The matching bottom features cut-out holes on both sides, with silver strings that barely keep the crotch area in place.
The word “Bootylicious” is embroidered across my ass cheeks.
He can’t be serious about me wearing this…
I brush my hair into a side ponytail and hope that Kevin will take one look at me and tell me to put on what I had before.
When I step out again, he gives me the thumbs up.
“Much, much better.” He hands me a bottled margarita. “Now, watch me walk over to that taco bar and tell me if my looks are off today.
“They never are, Kevin.”
“Watch me.” He walks away, and I laugh.
For whatever reason, he has no idea how fucking hot he is, how it saddens all the girls at school to know that he’ll never have any interest in them.
His golden blond hair gleams in the sunlight, and his well-toned stomach muscles lead down to a perfect “V” in his navy blue shorts.
His stride is pure confidence, and as he deviates from the route and stops at an umbrella stand, something cold drips onto my shoulder.
What the…
I look to my left and see abs.
Perfect rock-hard abs.
Then, a smile and eyes behind oversized shades.
“You’re not twenty-one last time I checked,” the deep voice says.
“I wasn’t aware I needed to be just to come to the beach.”
“I’ve watched you drink two of those glass margaritas so far.”
“I only brought enough for me and my friend, sorry.”
“That’s not why I came over here.” He laughs, pushing his shades onto his head.
It’s Jeremiah, Easton’s teammate and best guy friend.
“You’re not twenty-one either,” I say. “You’re barely older than me.”
“That’s not the point.” He points to the bottle. “I’m smart enough to keep my alcohol in a water bottle so no one suspects anything. Bring your shit over to my tent so you won’t get kicked out.”
“What’s the catch?”
“There isn’t one.” He’s still smiling at me. “Unless you didn’t come here alone, that is. If you did, you have to promise to dance with me later.”
“She’s here with me.” Kevin suddenly appears at my side.” She’s my girlfriend.”
“I thought you were into guys.” Jeremiah raises an eyebrow.
“I’m into girls and guys,” he says. “Unlike you, I don’t discriminate.”
“Right…” Jeremiah rolls his eyes. “Well, I take it you won’t want to come play with a few of my Ole Miss fraternity friends?”
“Of course not. I’m here to treat Scarlett to a romantic day at the beach…Is there a guy named James over there by chance?”
“There are four James over there.”
“Any of them gay?”
“Three of them.”
“Sold.” He grabs my hand and pulls me to my feet while Jeremiah grabs the handle of our cooler.
Completely lost in his own world, Kevin starts muttering to himself, saying, “Be cool, Kevin,” “Just be cool,” as if that’ll help calm his nerves in any way.
“Don’t take this personally,” I say to Jeremiah, “but I’ve always thought that you were a bit of a douchebag.”
“I can be.” He laughs. “No offense taken. Since we’re being honest, though, can I say what I’ve thought about you?”
“Let me guess, I’m a standoffish goth girl?”
“You’re a sexy as fuck goth girl.” He looks me over. “Of course, I’ve never tried to talk to you before today, so I can’t really vouch for ‘standoffish.’ I’ll let you know how I feel about that after tonight.”
“Are you coming onto me, Jeremiah?”
“Yes.” He laughs, slipping an arm around my waist. “Watch your step.”
I stumble as we hit a patch of rocks and keep my gaze straight ahead as we approach the oversized white tent.
There’s a row of beach chairs, a large cooler filled with “water bottles” and two tables set up for beer pong. I’m tempted to ask Jeremiah how he can afford to buy a tent this huge, but then I remember that his parents own every pool store in town.
“Allow me to make you a daiquiri,” he says, letting go of me. “You want pineapple or strawberry?”
“Strawberry.”
“Me too,” Kevin says.
While Jeremiah steps away, Kevin whispers, “If I hit it off with any of these guys, would you be willing to stay past sunset?”
“Of course.”
“Perfect! Oh, and don’t turn your head right now, but almost every guy at the beer pong table is staring at you.”
“What?” I ignore his warning and turn around, spotting a horde of guys drinking and looking right at me.
Blushing, I spin around. “They’re looking at something else.”
“No, they’re not,” he says. “But if it makes you feel any better, whenever you start talking, they’ll render you invisible like every guy at school does.”
“Why are we friends again?”
“Because you pay me well.” He laughs as Jeremiah returns with our drinks.
“The guys standing by the surfboard stand are your type,” Jeremiah tells Kevin. “You should try to make an impression before more people get here. You’re welcome.”