Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“Time, yes, but ever since he barged into your bedroom, you’ve been a step away from needing Prozac. A little fun won’t kill you.”
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“Not a chance, so you might as well get dressed and turn that frown upside down.”
I’m too down in the dumps to laugh at her ridiculous attempt at cheering me up, but the corners of my mouth curve up, despite myself. “I don’t want to lead this guy on.”
“You won’t.” She slides several hangers to the side before pulling out a simple charcoal midi dress. Next, she selects a pair of strappy green heels and a matching clutch. A clunky sliver chain belt completes her ensemble. There’s no hiding my wince when she marches to where I’m eyeing her from the bed.
“Ashton will get pissed if he finds out.” Not only pissed, but any hint of me dating will destroy him. I know the thought of him with Corinne is destroying me.
We’ve talked via texts a few times since he told me about Corinne’s ultimatum, and on the few occasions I left the house to buy groceries or run errands, or—heaven forbid—actually went to a job interview, I happened to spot him around town with her. Twice. Each time added another bleeding gash to my heart.
“My brother will just have to deal.” She lays the dress, shoes, and accessories on the bed. “There’s no reason you should sit at home like a spinster while he’s working shit out with his baby mamma.”
The term baby mamma is like claws on a chalkboard, and I cringe.
“Look,” she says. “I told Shane you aren’t interested in more than friendship. He understands. He’s not in a great headspace for dating either.”
“And this is a guy you think I should date?” My tone is more than a little dubious.
“No, this is a guy I think you should meet and have some fun with. It’s just a night out with friends. End of story.”
I can’t believe I’m letting her talk me into this.
An hour later, the four of us enter the place where Mandy works. For a Saturday night, Club Hoppin is low key, though it’s still too many people for my anti-social mood. We find a booth in the middle of the club, and I’m glad we steered clear of the tables in the corners, one of which I crawled under and all but attacked Ashton on the night that changed everything.
“Would you ladies like something to drink?” Shane swings his gaze between Mandy and me. The guy’s hot as hell, if you go for that clean cut, I-work-in-an-office type of thing.
Until recently, I did.
Until recently, I did a lot of things differently.
From what I can tell, Shane is nothing like Jake, even if he resembles him in style. Then again, I don’t really know him, and if my past judgments are anything to go by, I suck in that department.
“What are you drinking?” Mandy asks me, nudging my arm.
“Whatever you guys are having is fine with me.”
“Sex on the Beach it is.”
I bite back a groan, barely refraining from doing a face-palm. The guys grin, then they’re off fetching our cocktails. We settle in to wait, people-watching and listening to the hip-hop pulsing through the club. Eventually, Mandy eyes the dance floor, and I try to sink lower into my seat.
“Don’t even think about playing the wallflower tonight. I dragged your depressed ass out to live a little. Let’s dance.”
I bark an incredulous laugh. “Not happening. You know I don’t dance.”
“Who cares? We’ll have a blast anyway.”
“Maybe later, okay? We just got here.”
Her breath whooshes out, disrupting her bangs. “All right, I’ll let you sit this one out, but if you keep being allergic to fun, I’ll drag you out there screaming bloody murder if I have to.”
“Who’s screaming bloody murder?” Shane sets two cocktails onto the table—Mandy’s order of Sex on the Beach, I’m assuming—and Brett’s standing next to him holding two micro brews.
“Your date will be if I can’t get her on the dance floor,” Mandy tells Shane, and I shoot her a warning glare. With a shrug, she feigns innocence.
My best friend knows exactly what she’s doing.
She’s setting me up whether I like it or not, and I walked straight into her we’re-having-a-fun-night-out-with-friends trap. I wonder if I can kill her in her sleep without the neighbors hearing.
She takes a long draw from her cocktail, no doubt entertaining thoughts of sex and beaches that include the tall guy with the wild blond hair sitting beside her. It’s not long before she tilts her head toward the busy dance floor. “Want to dance?” she asks Brett.
“Lead the way.” He’s only got eyes for her as he follows her into the fray.
Shane shifts next to me. “You sure you don’t want to dance?” He gestures to where his brother and Mandy are getting down and dirty.