Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
“Quick!” I shout when she answers. “Meet me at the liquor store, birthday girl! I need your ID.”
Her soft laughter tickles my ear. “You’re such a goofball.”
“Is that a no? Because you’re twenty-one now, which means there’s no reason why you can’t buy me booze.”
“It’s eleven thirty,” she teases. “Do you really want a drink right now?”
“Nah.” I chuckle, then sit up and rub my eyes with one hand. “We’ll save the drinks for tonight.”
There’s a short pause.
“Babe?” I prompt.
“Sorry, yes, I’m here. And yes, I think there’s going to be quite a lot of drinking tonight.”
I can’t tell if her tone is hesitant or distracted. The latter, I decide, when I hear a flurry of female voices on the other end of the line.
“What’s going on in that sorority house?” I ask with a laugh.
“The girls are preparing a birthday brunch for me. Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on the mimosas. Hold on a sec, baby—” Annika’s voice becomes muffled as she addresses someone else. “I’m coming down, I’m coming down! Keaton just called to wish me a happy birthday.” There’s a rustling sound. “Hey, I’m back. But I have to go. Lindy says my presence is required downstairs.”
“Wait,” I say before she can go. “There’s one more thing.”
“What’s that?”
I put her on speaker, press play on the track I’ve cued up, and Beyoncé’s “Crazy in Love” blares out of my phone. I let the song play for about ten seconds before shutting it off and saying, “Happy birthday, Ani.”
“Oh, Keaton.” Her voice trembles slightly. “I really do love you.”
“Love you too.”
We hang up, and I lumber naked toward the bathroom to empty my bladder and take a shower. I’m drying off my ass when the bathroom door opens suddenly.
I whirl around, and there’s Luke Bailey in the doorway, a sour look on his face. “Do you mind? I’m almost done in here.”
“Do you mind?” he echoes. “Or are you hell bent on bribing your way into the presidency?”
Fuck.
“It’s not against the rules for my father to give out gifts,” I say, tying the towel around my waist.
“It should be,” he snaps.
The dude is right. Privately, I’m still mortified at my father’s behavior. But I’m not a big fan of Luke’s scowl, either. And I’m not going to hand him the presidency just because my father is a pushy son of a bitch. Bailey would make a terrible president.
“You don’t think people can make up their own minds?” I ask, opening the medicine cabinet to look for my deodorant. But I haven’t unpacked yet, so it’s not there.
“I think you play the part of the laidback fun guy really well. But you’re actually a conniving little bitch.”
I laugh, because he’s got it so wrong. I take two steps toward him, because he’s blocking my way back to my suitcase in my room.
He holds his ground.
“Really?” I drawl. “You want to throw down right here in the bathroom over it?”
His scowl deepens as he steps aside. But then the bastard lingers in the doorway of my room, where I start to root through the suitcase on the bed. I pick up a double handful of bathing suits and beachwear, thinking to toss it onto the bed.
But, fuck. Bailey thinks I’m exactly the kind of spoiled rich guy who just came home from a tropical vacation. And I am, so it’s not like I can argue the point.
I drop the clothes back into the bag and turn around, blocking his view of my stuff. “Do you have anything material to say? Or are you just here to whine at me.”
“Just…” He sighs. “If you need to cheat to impress everybody, why even bother?”
“Why indeed,” I say mildly. Not even Luke Bailey can dampen my spirits today. Even if he’s right. I’m in far too good a mood. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have places to be.”
The hotel suite I booked is killer. With a Jacuzzi tub, a giant king-sized bed, and a seventy-inch TV. Even the meal I ordered from room service is delicious.
But at some point between the crab fritters and the exquisite slices of chocolate cake, I realize that Annika is nervous.
She didn’t eat very much, I realize. And now, as I light the candle I brought to top her slice of cake, I see uncertainty as well as candlelight flickering in her eyes.
“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you…” I do jazz hands, and really camp it up as I sing. “Happy birthday, dear sexy pants…”
She gives me a shy smile, but doesn’t quite look me in the eye.
I finish the song with gusto. “Make a wish, honey. Feel free to make it a dirty one about me.”
She inhales, looks me in the eye and...hesitates.
I wait impatiently, because everyone knows you can’t sink your fork into the cake before the birthday girl is ready. And it looks like terrific cake. I can almost taste it now. Honestly, I’m like a giant ball of anticipation tonight. It’s been a struggle not to keep checking the time.