Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 25666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 128(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 128(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
10
Brad
“Yo, where the fuck are you?” Dane yells down the line so his voice can be heard above the deafening club music in the background. I hold my phone away from my ear in discomfort, then turn down the volume and put my cell phone on speaker instead.
“Fuck you,” I mutter with annoyance. “Where are you?”
“Club Z!” he responds, still yelling, but it’s more tolerable now. “Why aren’t you here yet?”
“What are you talking about?” I ask in genuine confusion.
“Our reunion? Ed’s in town, remember?” Dane reminds me. Shit. I totally forgot. Ed, Dane, and I attended the University of Wyoming together back in the day. I moved out East immediately after graduation, followed recently by Dane. But Ed stayed back in Wyoming with his business, and I’m happy to report that all of us have done well in life. Better than well, in fact. All three of us are wealthy men, and we have the trappings to show for it.
But we still get together on occasion, and this weekend, Ed flew into town to party. Of course, he’s married now, and to his daughter’s friend no less, but that’s the way my buddies and I roll. Yeah, we have a taste for sweet young things who are at least two decades our junior. And yes, I’m the most fucked up of my friends because I’m falling for my ex’s daughter.
It's true because nothing else can explain the emotional maelstrom I’m experiencing at the moment. I’m confused, hurt, and angry inside. I spoke to Chrissy like she was nothing, and cut things off between us, but inside, I ache. The pain is physically tangible in my chest, and I’m constantly short of breath. I popped some Xanax earlier in the day, but it doesn’t seem to be helping. I guess I’ll just have to deal.
Even worse, the fiasco with Chrissy made me completely forget my plans for tonight. Fuck! We’d agreed to hit up Club Z to celebrate, but now, I don’t feel like setting foot in a sex joint. I just want to mope and drink on my lonesome. But what kind of friend would that make me? As a result, I concede.
“I’m on my way,” I growl, and hang up. Quickly, I change into a button-down that matches the electric blue of my eyes, rake my fingers through my black hair, and head out. To my relief, Chrissy’s door is closed and it’s silent in the hallway. Good, because I really can’t face her right now. And like the fucking coward I am, I rush down the stairs, out of the house, and into the night.
I’m not planning to drink, so I take my car and drive into the city before handing off my sedan to a valet outside Club Z. The place looks like an average office building judging from its exterior, but the inside gives off a luxurious, clubby feel. Elegant paintings hang on the walls, and there’s wood-paneling everywhere. Not only that, but when I enter the lounge upstairs, it’s a scene. There are scads of gorgeous women, dressed in almost nothing, hooking up with one, two, or even three men at a time as they pant and writhe on the velvet furniture.
Yeah, Club Z is that kind of place, and normally I’d be into the debauchery. But tonight, the scene just doesn’t float my boat. I don’t want to be here. I want to turn around and head home. But since I can’t be where I want to be, which is, frankly, in bed with Chrissy with her soft body pressed up against mine, I might as well make the most of the evening and try to enjoy hanging out with my college buddies.
I locate Ed and Dane at the bar, teasing two women wearing nothing but see-through panties and six inch heels. Great. One girl’s literally shaking her breasts in Dane’s face, while the other bends over, parting her ass cheeks to wink her holes at Ed. Both men are enjoying the fun, and if they didn’t have wedding bands on, I’d think they were single.
“There you are!” grunts Ed when I make my way over. He thumps me on the back. “Whoa,” he says, appraising the muscles in my shoulders. “You been working out?”
“More like steroids,” Dane jokes. “You cycling, bud?”
I roll my eyes.
“No,” I say in a short voice. “This is all hard work and eating right. Not that you fuckers would know what that means.”
Both men roll their eyes.
“Someone’s in a bad mood,” Dane drawls. “What’s your problem, dude? Why not enjoy what you have in front of you?” he asks, gesturing to the two girls, who are now kissing as they fondle each other’s breasts.
“I’m just not feeling it,” I say in a terse voice. “And you shouldn’t be either, seeing that you’re both married now.”