Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 158848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
I burst out laughing. “What an accurate description.”
“I know it’s not a ‘bungalow,’ but ‘mansion of bullshit’ just didn’t have the same ring to it.” Venom grins. His whole demeanor is so much lighter than when we were living here.
Molly chuckles and squeezes my hand.
Kelly approaches us and forces a tight smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. Great, she probably thinks I’m an asshole who cheated on my girlfriend, then dragged her here to make myself look good.
“Venom said such glowing things.” I offer my politest smile. “I feel like I already know you, Kelly.”
“That’s nice to hear,” she says in a high, squeaky, childlike voice I’m not expecting from an adult.
I blink and try not to react. “Uh, this is my girlfriend, Molly.”
They exchange hellos but I don’t picture them being besties anytime soon. Then again, this whole situation is so strained. Maybe Kelly’s coolness has nothing to do with me and everything to do with anxiety about what’s going to happen tomorrow.
I can’t blame anyone for being nervous about it when I’m ready to bolt home any second, myself.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Griff
The next morning we’re up early to get ready for the show. The two bags she brought with us should’ve clued me in that Molly has more than one outfit. I enjoy her fixing her hair and putting on makeup in a sexy red bra and panties, not realizing she hasn’t decided what she’s actually wearing to the taping.
“Dress or pants and blouse?” She holds up a short red dress—the bottom has little folds that make it look like a tennis skirt. Next she holds up a pair of what look like purple velvet jeans and a silky black blouse with some sort of faint purple pattern on it. Then she gives me five seconds to consider each option.
“The dress is cute.” My gaze strays to the other outfit. “But you look really pretty in purple.”
She glances at each one. “I love this dress but honestly, I don’t know what the seating arrangement will be. I’d hate to accidentally flash everyone and have the cameras catch it for ‘bonus footage’ or something.” She lets out a disgusted snort.
This show has been crass on every level. It wouldn’t surprise me one bit if they did something like that. “Pants it is, then.”
At the studio, we’re separated into different rooms. Venom, Kelly, Woolly, Bear Trap, Molly, and I get to hang together in a large room with a long green plaid couch and a few chairs. Woolly’s mom was escorted into the audience. Apparently only significant others get the privilege of being up on stage.
The wait is surprisingly awkward. The guys and I had all gotten along so well at the house. But now, everyone’s silent.
The door opens. Jordan stands there and flashes a cheesy thumbs-up at us. “How’s everyone feeling!” he shouts.
“Great!” Woolly lifts his arms up and down like a bird about to take flight.
Venom groans.
“Let’s line up.” Jordan’s enthusiasm is not infectious. We all march out the door like we’re being led to an execution.
Side stage, Jordan stops us. A different producer lines the other guys up. “Each seating placement has a number on the back that’s not visible to the audience,” the new guy shouts. “I’ll hand you your number and you’ll sit in the corresponding seat. Everyone clear?”
We give him some version of yes.
“Ladies, you’ll met your men and sit next to them.”
Molly and Kelly share a look but don’t say anything.
I search backstage but don’t see any sign of Naptime, Kiki, or any of the other ring girls.
Jordan walks down the line, saying a few words to each fighter.
He stops in front of us last. “Now, Molly’s going to stay here and then we’ll call her out after your intro,” he says.
Molly’s scared eyes meet mine.
I glare at Jordan. “I think the fuck not.”
“It’ll be five minutes, tops.” He glances behind him. “Kelly will be with her.”
Molly blows out a breath and flashes a brave smile. “I’ll be fine.”
“Atta girl.” Jordan pats her shoulder.
I hold Molly’s hand while we wait.
Bright lights spill from the stage to the hallway. Matt’s annoying voice echoes through a microphone. Music pumps through the speakers.
One by one, in the order we’d been sent home, each fighter walks onto the stage and takes a seat in their designated spot. The audience cheers and claps a respectable amount for each guy. But when Venom trots out, they explode into cheers and whistles. He grins and waves back.
“Let’s welcome Griffin ‘Stonewall’ Royal back!” Matt shouts.
I lean down and kiss Molly. “Five minutes.”
She nods quickly. “Go, go.”
I walk out and the roar is deafening. The stadium-like seats in front of the stage are full of people. To my right a group starts chanting something that I can’t quite make out with all the other noise. It seems positive, so I lift my hand and wave in that direction. The blinding lights don’t let me actually see individual people. More like a blur of blobs and colorful shapes.