Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 85277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
“Because sluts have more fun.” She shrugs. “Or so I’ve been told.”
I stare at her and wonder, not for the first time, how the hell I’m related to this woman.
The next day, we spend the afternoon lounging in the backyard. At three, I go up to my room to take a nap, because let’s be honest here, I’m a single mom of two who thinks that eleven p.m. is a late night.
My nap lasts a solid two hours, and when I wake up, I’m almost tempted to cancel this debacle that Kaleigh is planning. I’m about to tell her that we should just stay home when the door flies open and she comes through it, telling me, “Don’t even fucking think about it. Get your dusty vagina in that shower. You will exfoliate and shave—everywhere.”
“Jesus, Kal, it’s not dusty.” I storm into my bathroom and slam the door. I lean back against it, thinking to myself that she might be right. It’s probably a little bit dusty.
I walk over to the sink and look at myself in the mirror. I’m hot, I’m young, and I’m single. Tonight, I’m going to go out, drink some cocktails, flirt with men, and maybe, just maybe, have sex. Hot, no-name sex. Okay, well, maybe not sex, sex. Maybe just some kissing and I’ll give him my number. And if he’s really hot, maybe my real number. Definitely not my real name, because you know, he could be a stalker. Oh, for Christ’s sakes, I’ll most likely just have some drinks and come home drunk.
I wash and dry my hair, setting it in big curlers so it will be wavy. I do my makeup darker than usual, with a smoky eye in dark brown and gold tones.
I walk out of the bathroom and stare at the outfit I picked out this morning. A tight peach high-waisted dress that goes to mid-thigh. In case that isn’t short enough, there is a V-notch in the center that shows off my inner thighs spectacularly, especially when I walk. I’ve paired it with a black strapless bustier. It’s tight, too, holding the girls in place and making them appear firmer than they really are. I put on a chunky black necklace. The whole outfit is put together with black strappy heels. My feet will be screaming in about an hour, but the shoes are sexy as fuck. Well, at least that is what Kaleigh says.
I grab my Michael Kors black wristlet and put the essentials in it. “Are you ready?” I yell down the hall.
Kaleigh walks out of her room, and I’m left speechless. Her outfit consists of a pair of white lace looser-fitting short shorts with a small, shiny black belt. Her top is a black tube top. I know for a fact that she isn’t wearing a bra, mainly because her breasts don’t need it. She finishes this look with a seriously sexy pair of black open-toe, lace-up stiletto boots. “Let’s go get us some dick!” She raises her hands in the air, and I can’t help but laugh.
Before I can answer her, I hear a honk outside. “CAB’S HERE!” she yells in her best Jersey shore accent.
I shake my head and say a prayer to whomever is listening at this point that I come home tonight, safe and sound, and with both shoes.
Two hours later, I’m finally sitting down after dancing my ass off. When we got to the club, Kaleigh, of course, knew the bouncer, so we walked right in and were given a booth. The booths sit in a section that is a bit higher than the dance floor. You can get to this area by using the set of six stairs leading up here around the dance floor.
Bottle service is a whole different ball game. The club that we’re at is called Light Night, which is weird, because it’s almost pitch black with soft light moving around the room.
I’m finally drinking my vodka and cranberry when the Drake song “One Dance” comes on.
I stand up, throwing my hair back, putting my hands in the air as I yell how much I love this song. I grab Kaleigh, and we run back out onto the packed dance floor.
I sway my hips to the beat of the song, singing out loud with Drake.
I feel a pair of hands land on my hips, and I slowly turn around to smile at the guy who put his hands on me. He’s cute. Tall with shaggy hair. He smiles at me and pulls me to him. I go with it and live in the moment. Singing the song and moving my hips, I’m having fun taking in the scene all around me.
As I scan the room, my eyes land on a familiar pair of green eyes that I haven’t seen in almost a week. I don’t have time to think, let alone escape, before I see him making a beeline right to me. My hands fall from my dance partner when I feel his heat against my back.