Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83718 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83718 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
“What?” Nic asks, reaching for her blindfold. “What is it?”
Veronica spins around and tugs off Nic’s blindfold. “Surprise!”
Nic blinks as she surveys the club, her jaw dropping when she spots stripper Santa grinding his hips against a pole on the stage.
“The hottest Santa I’ve ever seen,” Veronica says.
Teagan wrinkles her nose. “I can’t disagree. And yet . . .”
Nic sends a pleading glance in my direction, and I shrug. She knows Veronica better than any of us. Surely she saw this coming.
A man in nothing but a pair of very tight leather shorts greets us with a grin. “Is this the bride-to-be?” He looks Nic up and down and then . . . licks his lips.
Nic’s eyes widen, and she backs away a few feet.
“She is!” Veronica says. “We should have a table at the front reserved.”
He grins and tilts his head toward the stage. “Right this way, ladies.”
We follow him to our table in front of the stage. Our seats line one side of the table and face the stage—all the better to see stripper Santa, I suppose.
“What can I get you beauties?” our host asks as we sit.
“Booze,” I say.
Teagan nods. “We’re going to need a lot of booze.”
Next to me, Shay whispers, “Amen.”
“Shots of tequila,” Veronica says. “For everyone but her.” She points to Ava, who’s still standing and looking at her chair like she might disinfect it before sitting.
“Oh, I like you already.” The man flexes his pecs, making them dance up and down. Teagan snorts.
“I can’t believe you’re getting married this weekend,” Veronica squeals, wrapping one arm around her twin sister. “I swear I’m not going to ruin this one.”
“You’d better not,” Teagan says. “Ethan would kill you.”
Nic smiles softly. “I’m glad she ruined my first wedding. I’m loving the crazy turn my life took.”
I reach down the table and squeeze her hand. “Are you nervous at all?”
Nic shakes her head. The woman is glowing with happiness, despite our surroundings. “I mean, maybe a little nervous about people staring at me, but not about the marriage part.”
“Because my brother’s a saint, blah-di-blah-blah,” Shay says, but she’s grinning. She can’t hide how happy she is to see Nic marry her brother.
Our conversation is cut short when the G-string Santa spots us and walks to our side of the stage. Veronica screams and waves singles in the air, and the dancer pulls his beard off as he drops down and air-humps the floor.
I cut myself off after the second shot, but I have to admit that place was more entertaining with the tequila in my bloodstream. I didn’t want a hangover tomorrow or to lose my wits when our server kept looking at me like he wanted me to be his midnight snack, so by the time we return to the little rental house Veronica got us for the night, I’m sober and wide awake while the bride and her twin are giggling drunk in their beds.
I pick up my phone to text Brayden.
Me: We’re back at the house.
Brayden: Dare I ask?
Me: Santa in a G-string. Need I say more?
Brayden: Please don’t.
Me: Everyone’s drunk and passing out. I’m wide awake and jealous that they can sleep and I can’t.
Brayden: Wish you were here.
His words send my heart racing, and I bite my bottom lip.
Me: Me too.
“Sexting someone?” Teagan asks. She strolls into the kitchen and turns on the tap to fill a glass with water. “I saw the server give you his number.”
I snort. “I might have accidentally thrown it away.”
She grins, then chugs her water. “Everyone else is in bed. Grab your coat and come on.” She waves me toward a set of stairs.
I follow her up past the second floor and to a narrower set of stairs and a little balcony off the attic. The bitterly cold air hits my face, and I pull up my hood and shove my hands into my pockets.
“Spill,” she says, pulling the door shut behind me.
I frown. “What?”
“You’ve been walking around with this goofy smile on your face for the last week. You’re keeping secrets, and I think you’ve forgotten I adopted you as my BFF, so you don’t get to keep secrets from me.” She folds her arms, but there’s no anger or disapproval on her face, just curiosity.
Swallowing, I slide down the wall and stare out into the frigid night. I can feel the smile tugging at my lips, and I realize I want to talk about it. I want to talk about him. “I’m seeing someone.”
“I knew it!” she screeches, then smacks a hand over her mouth and says more softly, “I thought so. Tell me about him.”
“He’s . . .” Everything in me seems to vibrate at the thought of him. “I’ve never dated anyone who’s so kind to me, and I don’t mean that as a knock against the guys I’ve dated. I just . . .” I stare at my friend and wonder how vulnerable I’m willing to make myself. “He treats me like I’m something truly special. He’s not a big talker, and he keeps his emotions close to the vest, but sometimes when we make love, I catch him smiling.”