Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 162567 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 813(@200wpm)___ 650(@250wpm)___ 542(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162567 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 813(@200wpm)___ 650(@250wpm)___ 542(@300wpm)
“Ahhh! Ahhhhh! Fuck me, yes, right there.”
As we pass that room, I peek through the ajar door. A redhead. Definitely not Luna. I chug the rest of my fourth beer and crumple the can.
Banks and Akara are in a frat fight.
Luna is missing.
My pulse is still haywire.
“Frog,” I finally say.
She spins around. Meeting my gaze for the first time tonight. Whenever I see Frog, I’m blown back and think, wow, Akara has family. I’ve never met his mom or any relatives until now. And besides being Thai, Frog looks like Akara. They have the same photogenic features that verge on delicate but also strong. Like they could simultaneously laugh and throw a punch.
Wispy cat-eyeliner highlights her brown eyes, and her earpiece is hidden behind her hair. Where’d she put her radio? A spaghetti strap red dress hugs her thin frame, and she’s barefoot?
I frown more. “How’d you lose Luna?”
Frog sighs, “She ran. I had to ditch my heels. Wait—there they are.” She snatches four-inch heels out from under a hallway bench. Less college students are up here, and I avoid their drunken glances as they pass.
I leave Frog to knock on doors. “It’s me!” I shout, knowing Luna will recognize my voice.
“Not you too. Slow down,” Frog orders.
I don’t slow. “It’s me! It’s me!”
“I think she might be hiding in a bathroom.”
Where’s the other temp? Before I even think to ask, a familiar face enters the hall from the other side. Ripped jeans, an old Van Halen shirt, chestnut brown hair and tattoos—Paul fucking Donnelly is here. He opens doors, not even giving courtesy knocks like me.
“You see Luna Hale?”
“Luna Hale is here?”
He shuts the door.
Opens another, does the same.
Just as we meet in the middle, Donnelly opens a door, and I peer inside with him.
“Come on, baby. Open up,” a drunken dude curses. “I’m sorry, baby. I won’t be mad at you anymore. I know it was an accident.”
Frog whispers to Donnelly, “That’s him. She’s in there.”
I’m about to bum-rush the fucking room. Grab my cousin—wherever she is, but as soon as I step through the doorway, Frog wraps her arms around me.
Sorry, Frog.
I rip out of her hold.
Stronger.
A lot fucking stronger, and she curses as I barrel ahead. But Donnelly has already reached the six-foot-something brown-haired frat boy. Beer stains his Polo shirt, and his face is reddened in alcohol-induced rage. Or maybe just pure rage.
He’s mid-pound on the bathroom door when Donnelly calls out, “Luna, you in there?”
“Donnelly?” Luna sounds hopeful.
“Back off, dude,” the guy tries to shove Donnelly, and Donnelly decks him once, twice, and the lights go out. He thumps loudly to the floor.
I rush to the bathroom and jiggle the locked knob. “Luna? It’s me!”
“Sulli?!” I hear her race to the door.
“Donnelly knocked the guy out.” I barely release the words, and Luna swings open the door. I wrap my arms around my cousin.
She clutches tight, and I clutch tighter. “Are you hurt, Luna?” I ask, tears welling.
“No, he was just…I thought he…he was just really angry over nothing…” She pulls back. Mascara is smudged under her amber eyes. Glitter streaks uneven on her cheeks. Her fishnets are ripped, but maybe on purpose. Frayed jean shorts are wet. Her Thrashers sweatshirt hangs oversized on her frame. “We were dancing. I spilt beer on him by accident.” Her voice shakes. “…I don’t want to talk about it…”
“Oh hey, you don’t fucking have to.”
She glances to Donnelly. “I don’t think frat parties are my thing.”
“Nah?” He assesses Luna, up-and-down, then nods to her. “They’re not mine either.” He pauses. “You okay?”
She shrugs.
“We’re getting out of here,” Donnelly says. “That alright?”
She nods vigorously.
My hand catches and clasps hers.
Luna asks, “How’d you guys know to come?”
“Sulli texted me,” Donnelly says.
“And you butt-dialed me,” I proclaim.
She frowns. “My phone died though.”
“It must’ve been before that.”
Donnelly speaks into his mic, saying something about finding the space babe, the mermaid, and the frog, then he eyes Luna for a long beat before turning to me. “We need to bail. Akara and Banks are outside.”
“They’re okay?”
“Yeah.” His blue eyes drift to the doorway. “But we might have a problem.”
I learn quickly.
The frat guys slashed all of our tires.
We have no way of leaving.
* * *
Never did I think this night would end with me, Frog, Luna, Banks, Akara, and Donnelly in my Uncle Connor’s limo. But after Akara had a tow truck take the SUV and its slashed tires back home, he called my uncle.
Apparently, he knew my uncle had a meeting in the area. And Uncle Connor quickly sent his driver to pick us up and take us to the penthouse.
Now we bump along the city streets, and while Luna sprawls upside down, face hidden in her sweatshirt, Donnelly has been sketching on cocktail napkins he found in the limo. Reading glasses perched on his nose.