Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 132933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Out of their lives.
Loren Hale isn’t the only one with goals. I’ve still got goals too.
Goal: Stay in their lives.
Muscles flexed, I try to relax and check my notification.
Illyana_Dallas222: sorry, just now seeing your message. Kinda fell asleep at a party. Still pretty tired. Did you get some z’s in?
“Who are you smiling at?” Farrow asks, confused.
I just realize I’ve been smiling. “It’s not Luna.”
Oscar points his beer at me. “This is good. Safe.”
Farrow’s jaw muscle twitches.
Oscar tells me, “Ignore his maverick ass. Safe is good.”
“Safe is boring,” Farrow says. “And how was Jack Highland safe? He’s in production, and you thought he was straight. Now you’re fucking married.”
“For Donnelly, it might be a good thing,” Oscar rationalizes, then he rotates more to me. “Is that the Mystery Girl?”
“Not her, no.”
“Mystery Girl isn’t Luna, is she?” he asks.
“Nah,” I say casually. “I wouldn’t want to lead her on like that.” Giving her any kind of indication that we can be together—I think it’d be cruel to us both, and I couldn’t wrap my head around asking her on the triple date as a friend.
She’s a girl.
Who I know is my friend.
But if I asked her on a date, there’d be feelings. Definitely coming from me. It doesn’t make sense. Just like going to Wawa alone with her didn’t make sense to me. It’s a date-y thing, and the whole idea is still fucking me up.
So I try not to touch it. I lift my forearms to the picnic table, phone in hand. “It’s a girl online that I’ve been talking to.”
Oscar tosses a shrimp tail into a basket. “She fell into your TikTok thirst traps?” He bats his eyelashes. “DonnellysFavFan_13.”
He just said my username. But talk of my TikTok vids reminds me of Delilah at Xander’s school, and I’m trying not to cringe.
“Been stalking my TikToks?” I smirk.
“I follow you,” Oscar says flatly. “Your thirst traps invade my feed, getting too many likes and too many millions of views.”
“Two of which are from you two,” I say. “Gonna tattoo your names on my dick in thanks.”
“There’s not enough room for that,” Farrow banters.
“Just going to do O and F with a heart then. Right on the head.”
Oscar winces. “Bro, don’t even joke about that. Just thinking about getting a tattoo on the head of a dick makes me fucking squirm.”
“Been thinking about getting a smiley face on mine.”
Oscar has a deadpan expression. “Bro.”
Farrow is laughing. “You have to be hard or soft for that?”
“Soft.” I take a sip of beer. Not sure I’ll be able to do it myself though. It’ll be painful and I might slip. It’s one of the reasons I’ve waited.
“Circle back,” Farrow says. “If the girl isn’t on TikTok, where are you talking?”
“A fandom site called Fanaticon. It’s like Reddit. She slipped into my DMs, and we’ve been discussing this TV show. I already asked her age. She’s in her twenties.”
“Twenties is a wide range,” Oscar says.
I glance at our DMs. “I told her I’m in my thirties and she still wants to talk.” Saying I was in my twenties too didn’t feel right. I’m twenty-nine. Closer to thirty. Just wanted to be more upfront about it.
“What if she’s lying?” Farrow frowns.
“I hope she’s not. And it’s not like I’m dating her,” I shrug. “We’re just talking. I don’t even know where she’s from.”
Oscar licks butter off his fingers. “What’s her handle?”
“Illyana_Dallas222.”
“She’s twenty-two,” Oscar says certainly.
Farrow tilts his head. “You don’t know that.”
“High probability, Redford.”
Farrow doesn’t argue with that, and I was hoping she was older than twenty-two. More like twenty-eight or something.
“And she probably lives in Texas,” Oscar tells me. “Doesn’t look good. Stick with your triple date, Donnelly. Whoever she is.”
I can’t respond, not as more voices come onto the rooftop. I slip my phone back in my pocket.
“Oh my gosh, it smells so good,” Frog nearly runs to the buffet table. Quinn and Gabe follow her slowly.
“What up, roomies,” I wave a hand to Quinn, Frog, and Gabe.
Quinn Oliveira is the bodyguard to Baby Ripley, and Gabe Montgomery is SFO’s resident floater.
Once Kannika “Frog” Kitsuwon signed a full-time roster contract as Luna’s bodyguard, Akara included housing for his cousin. Which meant he had to amend Gabe’s contract to also include housing.
Frog and Gabe moved in at the same time, and the four of us have been living together in the security apartment three floors below the penthouse. With only two bedrooms, I took the pull-out so Frog could have her own space.
Seemed like the right thing to do.
Frog grabs a lobster roll, “The only thing that’s up is Quinn’s hard-on for Nessa.”
Oscar’s brows rise and he pops a grouper finger in his mouth like popcorn. “We would all hope his equipment is working properly for his girlfriend.”
Quinn flips his brother off. “Frog is just pissed because of the hamster.”