Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 94489 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94489 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Maybe it's nothing serious. I'm her older sister, after all. It's my job to protect her. And that means worrying about her boyfriend. Even if he is her husband. Even if he's the sweetest guy I've ever met.
I want to trust it.
I just don't.
I ditch the gown. Slip it into a dry-cleaning bag, find a comfortable sundress.
A deep blue maxi that hugs my chest and flares over my hips. Easy enough for brunch with my sister. Cute enough, I don't mind if her husband has a friend in the den when she convinces me to walk her home.
Not that he usually has friends hanging around.
More that his oldest friend is Simon Pierce's kid brother.
I take a deep breath. Let out a steady exhale. Try to center myself.
This is my apartment. Maybe it's small. Maybe it's lacking luxury.
But it's mine.
My ecru walls, my abstract art, my bookshelf lined with non-fiction texts and under-appreciated classics.
"Vanessa." Lee's voice is singsong. "I may not know much about cooking, but I know you fucked someone last night."
"What does that have to do with breakfast?"
"Uh… something about eggs?"
"What about eggs?"
"Just get out here and tell me who you fucked." She knocks on my bedroom door. "Is it too hard getting out of your dress on your own?"
"Maybe I've been wearing it all night."
"And maybe I'm going to win Miss Congeniality."
"It's not that unlikely."
"Mm-hmm." Her footsteps move from the door. "Did you send me the guest list? Or do I need to ask your assistant?"
If she sees Simon's name on there—
She knows I had a crush on him in high school. She knows I cried when I caught him kissing another girl one Christmas—seriously, it's so annoying I'm family friends with my rival. And she knows I accidentally overheard him fucking himself one summer.
And, uh—
Well, I didn't mean to hear him, honestly. But once I realized what was happening, I didn't exactly make an effort to listen to something else.
I need to prepare a fake answer. An excuse. Any excuse, really.
Anyone is better than Simon.
I try to recall the guests in attendance. The man who introduced me to his wife. The professor who invited me to speak at his class. The young guy who asked if I had a boyfriend.
He was cute.
He was probably twenty-two, but he was cute. A charming smile and all that youthful energy. Like he knew his whole life was ahead of him.
But what the hell was his name?
"English breakfast?" Lee asks.
"With milk."
"Extra milk. You think I just met you?"
No. She knows me well. Too well. She knows my tells.
I practice my story in my head—the young guy with light hair, and it was great, energetic—and step into the main room.
She sees it the second she looks at me.
How the hell does she do that?
"No," she says.
"No what?"
"You did. Holy shit, Vanessa! You fucked Simon and you didn't tell me."
I say nothing.
"I just asked Harrison. And he said that Liam said that Opal said that Simon rolled home in the middle of the night with lipstick on his collar."
"Is she his sister or his wife?"
"A very dark shade of red. One much too light for most complexions."
"Doesn't Liam's girlfriend wear that shade?"
"Really? Liam's girlfriend was running her lips over Simon's neck?"
Ahem.
"You didn't even deny it." She jumps from her seat and claps her hands together. "You always deny it."
I do.
"Was it good?"
My cheeks flush.
"Oh my god. That good? Seriously, Vee! I'm a married lady now. I need to get my fix somewhere else."
"You've been married for two months."
"And we have sex every night. True."
This is why people don't like Lee. The way she shares her joy sounds like bragging. But it's not. It's just her way. "Maybe the sad single lady needs a fix."
"No. You had your fix last night. I demand details."
"What details?"
"You know what details, Vanessa Moyer."
"We had a few drinks in the bar. Whiskey for him. The brand he bought Harrison last Christmas. I had an Aviation—"
"You know those aren't the details—"
"Do you want the story or not?"
She pouts, falls into her chair, folds her arms. "Fine."
"He asked about his nickname, if I still called him the Prince of Darkness."
"And?"
"I said by now he's the king."
She nods fair.
"He asked if I wanted to sleep with him. I said yes. We went to his hotel room. The end."
"The. Beginning."
I shrug like it was no big deal.
She doesn't buy it. "And then, once you were in his hotel room…"
"We had sex."
She shoots me a death glare. "That's it? You had sex."
"We did."
"Did he make you come?"
"Yes."
"Did he have a big dick?"
"Lee."
"Oh my god, that's so annoying. He's such a smug prick, and he has a big dick to back it up. Tell me he was selfish or clumsy or something."
I wish I could. I wish I could say it was nothing special really, I've already forgotten, but it's not true.