Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 129207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
I pull out of Rock’s arms and try to balance on my feet, but Dylan is right there, pulling me into his wide chest. “Happy birthday, Rae.”
“You’re on my shit list,” I remind him just in case it slipped his mind.
“I know, but I’m hoping we can get you drunk enough that you don’t remember what an asshole I am,” he says as Rock starts listing off drinks for the bartender to get working on while also taking a moment to let Madds fangirl over him.
“There’s not enough alcohol on the planet that could make me forget that,” I tell him as a wicked grin stretches across my face. “But I might consider forgiving you if you strip naked and do the chicken dance up and down the street.”
Dylan’s face falls. “You’re not serious.”
“I hope you’re up to date on your manscaping.”
“Fuck, Rae. Can I at least keep one hand covering the junk?”
“Oooh, I’ll give you one hand over the junk, but in return, I require you to move slow enough so that at least five people on the street have enough time to capture your full ass on their shitty camera phones, and they better be able to get all the angles.”
“And then you’ll forgive me?” he questions.
“Pinky promise.”
I hold my pinky out to him, and after a moment, he hooks his pinky around mine and we shake on our deal. “Shit, I better start drinking.”
I can’t help but laugh, but as Dylan releases my pinky and reaches for a drink, he smirks back at me. “Joke’s on you,” he tells me. “I would have done it just because it’s your birthday.”
I scoff. “More like joke’s on you, I was gonna cave and let you keep your little tighty-whities on, but you had to go and push for a hand covering the junk.”
“Ahh fuck.”
Two hours later, we stand out on the street, both Madds and I tucked under Rock’s arms as Dylan flies up the street, whipping his shirt around like a helicopter as he clutches his dick. I have to give it to him, he’s kept in amazing shape. He was always the one to get naked at parties as a teen, and I’m more than happy to report that his delectable ass is just as yummy as it’s always been, but it’s not the ass that always had my attention.
“Holy shit,” Madds laughs as Dylan races back toward us, and without warning, she scoops his jeans off the ground and makes a break for it, running as fast as she can as tears of laughter streak down her face. Though she doesn’t get far before Dylan is on her, using her body as a human shield as he tries to get his clothes back.
We all head back into the bar, and I have to admit, despite the way my birthday started, it’s the best one I’ve had in years.
The bar closed to the public a while ago, but the boys paid to keep the lights on just for us, turning it into a private party, which is the best present anyone could have gotten me. Being with these guys is incredible, but I can’t help but feel a longing for those who aren’t here.
“Fuck me,” Dylan sighs, dropping down in the booth beside Madds once he’s finally got his clothes back on. He slings one arm over her shoulder, and her cheeks flame, absolutely living her greatest dreams right now.
I scoop up a few more drinks and make my way over to the booth, setting them down on the table and watching everyone dive in.
“So, what’s it gonna be, Rae?” Dylan pushes as I wobble on my feet, almost certain I’m going to be tasting all the tequila again in the morning. “Now that you’ve officially forgiven me, are you going to join us on tour?”
“I want to,” I admit. “But I don’t think Ezra wants me there.”
“Oh, he wants you there,” Rock says as Dylan nods in agreement.
“I’ve never even met the dude, and even I know he wants you there,” Madds says. “You’ve heard his songs, right? And I don’t just mean the ones from the first album. I mean the ones after he started missing you. They are deep.”
I cringe. “I uhhhh . . . actually haven’t.”
“WHAT?” Dylan screeches, his eyes bulging out of his head in shock. “You’re fucking lying. You haven’t heard our songs? What the fuck, Rae? Do you live under a rock? I don’t know if you know this, but we’re kind of a big deal. Our music is literally everywhere. I can’t even escape it.”
I scoff. “I don’t live under a fucking rock,” I throw back at him. I just live out of the back of my car and am oddly specific about what music I allow myself to be around. You know, in case of any unwanted mental breakdowns. A girl can only be too careful.