Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
I shook my head. “There’s no way. I’m too skinny and dorky.”
Preston, who was a slim brunet in a suit and glasses, grinned as he told me, “Believe it or not, I started out as a go-go boy. It wasn’t all that long ago, either. If I could do it, I know you can.”
“Go for it, Logan,” Sebastian said with a friendly smile.
I hesitated and looked up at the platform as I muttered, “I don’t want to do it by myself.”
“I’ll go with you,” Skye said.
After a moment, I blurted, “Sure, why not? What’s the worst that could happen?” Clearly that was the alcohol talking.
I took off my flannel overshirt, leaving me in a T-shirt and jeans, and Dare exclaimed, “You’ve got this!”
The real go-go boys were in nothing but tiny shorts, but even tipsy I was too self-conscious to do this shirtless. Skye, on the other hand, stripped off his baggy T-shirt, revealing more muscles than I would have expected. Then he led the way to a ladder at the side of the platform.
My heart was pounding as I climbed up after him. I’d never done anything like this before, but I actually liked the fact that it was scary and shook things up a bit. Besides, no one would be looking at me, not with a blue-haired hottie dancing right beside me.
The platform was about five feet off the floor and the last in the row, located between the dance floor and the cluster of tables where our friends were seated. I decided the best approach was to totally ignore the crowd and just dance with Skye. He was fun and upbeat, and he busted out some goofy moves to make me laugh. After he did the running man, I launched into my best robot, which made him laugh, too.
While that was going on, Dare stood there watching his husband with a look of pure adoration. How amazing would it be to have a man look at me like that, just once?
I turned toward the dance floor to see if anyone had even noticed me. One person was facing in this direction—not that that meant he was paying any attention to what I was doing, which as it turned out was still the robot. He was nearly silhouetted against the bright, flashing lights, so all I could tell was that he was tall with shoulder-length hair.
Then he moved closer, into the spotlight illuminating the platform, and I discovered he really was watching me. Why did he look so familiar?
My breath caught when it suddenly dawned on me—I was staring at the gorgeous guy with the motorcycle, the one I gawked at day after day while he went to the diner and I loitered at the bakery.
Holy crap!
When he smiled at me, my heart did a weird stutter-step. Was I having a heart attack? Maybe, because he looked worried all of a sudden. He stuck his arms out and lunged toward the platform—just as I fell off.
If he’d intended to catch me in his arms like a hero in a movie, things didn’t quite go to plan. Instead, I landed on him like a hundred-and-twenty-pound dead fish and totally flattened him.
Once I caught my breath and sat up a little, I realized he wasn’t moving. “Oh shit,” I yelled, “I just killed hot motorcycle guy! I crushed him like a bug!”
His dark hair was covering his face, and I started pushing it aside with both hands, so I could perform CPR and try to bring him back to life. When I uncovered his eyes, I saw he was staring at me with a stunned expression, and I exclaimed, “You’re not dead!”
He sat up and grinned while I quickly scrambled off of him. “Not quite,” he said. “You just knocked the wind out of me.”
By now, my companions had gathered around us. Dare helped me up while Skye held out a hand to motorcycle guy and said, “Well hey there, Lucky. How’s it going?”
The guy—Lucky, apparently—took his hand, and as Skye hauled him to his feet, he said, “It’s going well. Who’s your gravity-prone friend?”
Before Skye could introduce us, I slapped a hand over my mouth and muttered, “I think I’m going to barf.”
Preston exclaimed, “Run for the restroom! It’s down there.” He looked more than a little alarmed as he pointed at a nearby hallway.
I sprinted for the toilets, but there was a huge line so I kept going. A door at the end of the hall was marked “Exit Only,” and I burst through it and found myself in an alley. I looked around frantically, then ducked around the side of a dumpster and threw up almost thirty dollars’ worth of bright blue alcohol.
As I took a few steps back, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I muttered, “Ugh, that’s so gross.”