Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 114211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Trey bites his lip to stifle laughter.
“Uh, thanks,” I mutter awkwardly, “but … I’m pretty sure I’m the last face he wants to see.”
“I think you’re the first, actually.” She rests her chin on Trey’s shoulder with a pout at me. “He’s usually fun. Tonight, he’s mister poopy pants. I even let him play his music the whole drive here instead of my ABBA and it didn’t make a difference. He just sulked the whole time. I’m pretty sure seeing you would change his mood right quick.” She smiles. “It sure just changed mine.”
Trey nods at me. “You should go find him, Bridge.”
Juniper blinks her eyes and turns, as if just now noticing the guy whose shoulder she’s been clinging to. “Oh. Hi there, Trey.”
Then Pete reappears like a magician, crashing into my side and grabbing hold of me. “My man’s out on the dance floor?! What kind of magic did you put on him, Trey?? This guy never dances!”
“It’s called two mediocre vodka tonics,” Trey returns before going to kiss his husband Cody, who has also come back and seems to be in a much calmer state of mind. “Look, babe, we just made a new friend. Meet Juniper.”
“You’re familiar,” says Cody, eyeing her. “Weren’t you at the pageant a few months ago?”
“Yeah, I’m the lucky gal who bought Anthony,” she confirms.
Cody chuckles at that. “Not a bad guy. Just had him over for dinner couple of nights ago. Hey, you should come with him next time! We’re always doing something at our house. Trey’s obsessed with cooking. And when he’s not, I’m showin’ off my grill game.”
Juniper glances back and forth between the husbands, a finger curling in her hair. “Oh, sounds like I’m gonna gain some weight.” When her eyes fall on Pete, she staggers into Trey again, turning him once more into a wall she has to clutch to stay upright. “Hi.”
Pete can give me shit all day long for not knowing when I’m being flirted with, but the second he’s in front of a pretty woman, the guy loses every ounce of swagger he claims to have. “Hey,” he greets her stiffly, eyes wide and unblinking. “Hi there.”
“Hi,” she says again, her tone turning milky sweet.
“Hey,” he repeats, now with a smile.
“Hello.” Now it’s nearly a song.
“I’m Pete. Bridger’s friend. That guy,” he says without looking at me, just throwing a thumb my way. “I like your hair.”
“It’s a mess,” she says dreamily. “I’m Junip—”
Someone slams into her back.
Juniper flies forward and crashes into Pete—specifically: into his mouth with her own mouth—and as their lips unintentionally unite, the pair fall right down to the floor. Juniper lands on top of Pete, whose arms wrap around her instinctively to catch her fall. On the floor now, they stare into each other’s eyes, as the more or less indifferent crowd continues dancing around them, oblivious.
Pete quickly snaps out of it and gets to his feet, picking up a dazed Juniper with him. “Are you okay?” he asks. “Are you hurt?”
“I think I broke my face,” she says, still in shock.
“Can I get you a drink?” he asks her. I’m not sure he heard the part about her face.
“Yeah, this dance floor is … is super dangerous,” she agrees, though I’m not convinced that’s the real reason she decides to go off to the bar with Pete, but they can’t get away fast enough.
After they’ve gone, Cody shakes his head. “Well that worked out, I guess.” He turns to me and Trey. “You guys having a good time? Or should we bounce and leave Pete with this chick? She’s okay, right? Friend of Anthony’s?”
Trey, who hasn’t stopped holding back laughter through all of this, just gives a delirious shrug. “I think your pal’s fate is sealed.”
“Really?” Cody laughs at that. “That guy’s all talk. She’s gonna devour him and he’ll love every second of it.”
I chuckle distractedly at that, glancing over my shoulder to check on wherever Pete and Juniper went.
But it’s not them I find.
Standing by the wall in a loose red V-neck shirt, hands shoved in the pockets of his blue jeans, is Anthony.
He’s all by himself.
Looking like he’s been emotionally beat up left and right.
Eyes half-closed, lips bent into a partial scowl, as he stares me down from across the room, the flashing lights of the club flicking him in and out of existence, the side of his face flashing red, then green, then blue, and back to red again.
If eyes could fuck a person, that’s what he’s doing right now. Fucking me with every flash of the club lights.
There’s no mistaking it anymore. Anthony wants me.
Bad.
But he won’t make a move. If I don’t go over there right now and break whatever spell has a hold of his every muscle, there’s no hope of figuring out what the hot fuck is going on between us.