Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 72659 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72659 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
“Were you seriously just doing your boyfriend during a wedding?” he asks.
I shrug my shoulders. “What are weddings for?”
“Ugh,” he groans. “I thought you’d at least keep it classy.”
“Nope,” I grin as someone bumps into me. My glass of champagne goes flying right out of my hands and drops down into Brendan’s lap.
“Crap,” I gasp as he hastily goes about trying to clean himself up.
The person who bumped me turns around and I nearly hiss at the moron. Max looks down at my brother. “Oh, shit. Sorry dude,” he says as he calls out for a waitress to help us out.
“Don’t worry about it,” Brendan spits in his ‘I’ve had enough’ voice. “I’ll sort it out myself.”
At that Max holds up his hands and slowly backs away from my very pissed off brother.
I instantly wheel Brendan out of the room and into the way too big bathroom. I help him get cleaned up and it’s not long before he’s on the phone calling a Taxi.
“Did you want to stay here the night? There are heaps of rooms upstairs, I’m sure Logan wouldn’t mind.”
“Nah, it’s ok. I’d rather go back. I have a therapy session early in the morning.”
“Okay,” I sigh. “I’ll wait for the Taxi with you.”
He nods and waits patiently as I duck back inside and find Logan. “Hey, I’m heading outside to get Brendan a taxi,” I tell him.
“Okay, do you want me to come?”
“I can handle myself,” I smile.
“Don’t I know it,” he says before giving me a quick kiss and sending me on my way.
I rush back to find Brendan, only to have Max blocking my way. He holds a new champagne glass out to me. “Here, consider it a peace offering,” he says.
I take the glass from him. “Thanks,” I smile politely.
“Your brother okay?” he asks.
“Yeah, he’ll be fine. He’s made of tough stuff,” I say fondly as I try to walk around him.
“Are you leaving?” he questions.
"No, Brendan called a taxi so I'm going to see him off," I explain, though, I don't know why I'm explaining myself to him.
“Oh, ok. Well, tell him I’m sorry,” he says before finally moving out of my way.
I rush past him and once again, find Brendan impatiently waiting for me. “Took long enough,” he grunts.
“Shut up, turd,” I grin before spinning his chair and giving him a push while trying to hold onto the champagne flute in my fingers. We make it out the door and I’m instantly hit with the chilly Denver air. “Shit, dude,” I curse as I stop pushing and cross my arms over my chest, trying to keep them warm. “You’re going to have to wheel yourself.”
"I'd offer you my jacket but you spilled champagne all over it."
“That wasn’t my fault,” I object.
“Righteo,” he grunts.
We shiver as we wait for the taxi to show, keeping ourselves entertained with ridiculous conversation while I sip on my champagne. My head starts to spin and I realise I’ve probably had one too many drinks but that was bound to happen sooner or later.
“You ok?” Brendan asks.
“Yeah, just a little shit-faced,” I grin.
He rolls his eyes. “Maybe you should go back inside. I’ll be ok out here.”
“No, no. Your taxi will be here any minute.”
“Ok,” he says with a sigh, knowing a lost cause when he sees it.
We wait a few more minutes and my head grows worse but I keep a smile plastered on my face as to not worry him. The taxi’s headlights finally appear at the bottom of the longest driveway on earth.
I get up and push Brendan to the curb before helping him into the taxi and by helping, I mean, I don’t really help at all.
He drives off and I make a promise to call him in the morning. The second he’s gone, I can finally give in to my spinning head. I walk back to the seat I had just vacated and find myself a stumbling idiot. Shit. This isn’t right. I’ve been wasted many of times and this has never happened.
My eyes start hurting and I find my vision getting blurry. I fall back into the seat before dropping my head in my hands. The need to lay down comes over me but I know games over if I do that.
Crap, I don’t feel good. Maybe I should find a garden to throw up in.
I try to get to my feet but trip over my heels. An arm shoots out and saves me from eating dirt. “Hey, you ok?” a voice asks.
I turn and see Max by my side. I blink a few times as his faces grows blurrier by the minute.
“I don’t… Logan,” I tell him with the words struggling to come out. “I need Logan.”
“Sure thing,” he says as he starts leading us away.
I start losing control of my limbs and collapse my weight onto Max. "I don't feel… good."