Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 107453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
It’s not the time to be a dick either. Just to deliver one.
I release my clenched fist and try to loosen the valve on some of my anger. We cover the final feet to the room, set up the life-size dong, and then Aubrey raps twice on the door.
“Hey, babe,” she says, but her lips twist in disgust at the end, and I can tell it cost her something to even say those two words.
Seconds later, the door creaks open, and some sort of shtupping music floats out. The chorus of Ginuwine’s “Pony.” I roll my eyes, muttering, “Jesus.”
That’s on every sex playlist. It requires zero imagination.
Dev shoots me a shut the fuck up look.
My derision got the better of my discretion. I mime zipping my lips as Aiden asks from behind the door, “Sweetie pie? Is that you or is that room service?”
Fuck. I hope I didn’t ruin our plan.
Aubrey straightens her spine, plastering on a faux sexy grin even though he can’t see her yet. “Hey, babe. It’s me. In my bridal dress. And yes, I have room service,” she says, in an over-the-top throaty voice that she follows with a mimed gag, just for us.
With a relieved sigh, Aiden tugs the door all the way open, voila style, showing off his…are you kidding me? He’s wearing wrinkled boxers?
I loathe him.
His eyes widen to saucers, flashing from Dev to me and back, confusion in those irises. “You brought…your brother’s friends, babe?”
“She sure did,” I say.
Aiden holds up his hands apologetically, waving us off with a chuckle. “Look, I had a blast at the party last night. And, seriously, guys, I appreciate the compliment big time. But,” he says, taking his time to sigh regretfully, “I’m not into dudes.”
Of course Mister Horny McFuckerson thinks we’re all here for the bang date. Of course he can’t conceive we’d be here for any other reason. Like, he’s a prick.
“We’re not here for that. We’re here with a delivery,” Dev says as he shoves the cardboard at Aiden.
I pat the head of the cutout. “Yes, Mister Cardboard Dick is here to teach you a few lessons,” I singsong as I turn to the standing dick balanced on its formidable cardboard balls. “Because he has more balls than you. Want to know why?”
Oops. That came off angrier than I’d expected. Guess I didn’t cool off. Aiden’s grin burns off. Cockiness is replaced with worry. “W-why?” he stammers.
I stare down the gutless wonder. “Because you don’t get a fucking plane ticket before you call off a wedding. You don’t run the fuck away and make the bride and her brother tell all the guests,” I spit out, fueled by the red-hot flames licking my veins. Possibly I’ve got some of my own kindling from the charred remains of my failed marriage stoking the fire. I’ve just had enough of chameleon exes who hide their true natures then kick you out with the trash. Mine and Aubrey’s now too.
“And you don’t do it ten minutes before the ceremony,” Dev adds, stepping closer to the doorway and using his size to overpower Aiden. Not a bad idea.
I crowd him, too, while Aubrey wedges herself next to Dev, watching the scene with wild delight in her eyes.
Dev’s not done. He lifts a finger, pokes Aiden’s sternum. The one-time groom quakes. What a beautiful sight. “Here’s a lesson too. Don’t hit on the goddamn waitress at your bachelor party,” Dev says, low and menacing.
“I wasn’t hit—”
“—You were, man. You fucking were. And here’s another lesson.” Dev lets go and cracks his knuckles instead. He takes his sweet time making sure the sound snaps, crackles, pops to the sex beat floating from Aiden’s room. “When you ask a woman to marry you—hell, when you ask her to be yours, you don’t flirt, sext, kiss, or fuck anyone else. Even Mister Cardboard Dick knows that.”
Aiden gulps, holds up his hands in surrender. “I was just messing around.”
I mime slamming a buzzer. “Wrong. You mess around with a pie. With bubble wrap. With a video game. You don’t mess around with someone’s heart.”
Dev shoves the dick at him. “Man the fuck up and grow some balls,” he says as Aiden stumbles, grabbing onto the cardboard phallus then batting it away from him. It tumbles to the stained carpet of the hotel room.
I turn to Aubrey, gritting my teeth, rage storming through me. It requires all my restraint not to pummel him. I can’t believe Aubrey let herself think she lied. I can’t stand that she was embarrassed over how he treated her. I hate that she spent the whole day worrying what we’d think because of this jackass.
“Do you have anything you want to add?” I ask.
Aubrey draws a deep breath, then taps her chin. “I think that covers it. Except…there is one little thing.” She steps forward into the room, appraises her ex up and down, then says, “You said earlier we had some good sex. But, in the immortal words of Inigo Montoya, I do not think that word means what you think it means.” Then she leans closer and stage-whispers, “Good luck learning the mandolin.”