Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 94300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
I wonder if this is as weird for her as it is for me, because there’s no spark. It’s not horrible, but I’m counting the seconds for her to pull back because pushing her off me would be rude … right? Or maybe I like leaning on her because I don’t have to think about standing upright.
She breaks the kiss, and yep, definitely using her to remain standing. We both stumble and then laugh.
“I really hope you don’t take offense to this, but …” She averts her shiny gaze away from me. “That felt like kissing my brother.”
“You kiss your brother?” I wonder what she’d say if she knew I’d rather kiss her brother.
She lets out a little giggle and slaps my shoulder, and I try not to lose my balance again. “No. You know what I mean.”
“Sorry,” I slur. It kinda comes out as Shlorry. “I’m, like, all kinds of drunk.”
Ash always used to warn me about leading puck bunnies on, but until tonight, I’ve never hung around them long enough for them to get the wrong idea. A hello and a selfie for social media is usually the extent of it. Never done the kissing thing. That’s definitely new.
“Ollie, I need a hand,” an urgent voice says beside us.
I turn, slightly dazed. Jet stands there, trying to hold up Lennon-fucking-Hawkins who’s hunched over and holding onto his stomach. “Wha… huh?” I ask.
“Lennon got super drunk and doesn’t feel well. I can’t hold him up on my own.” Jet glances at the girl and then back at me. “Sorry to interrupt, but I need your help.”
Reflexively, albeit slower and more wobbly than usual, I’m by his side and helping hold him up. Momentarily, I forget I’m mad at him. He grips me tight, and I hate that it feels good. He feels good against me. Just like kissing him in the stairwell of the Honey Bee did months ago.
“You should take the cab and get your friend home,” what’s her face says.
There’s a cab? My head snaps to the yellow car waiting by the sidewalk.
“Thanks,” Jet says to the woman who I should know her name but don’t, “but we’ve got him from here. You take this one, and we’ll get the next one.”
“Are you sure—”
Jet turns on his Southern charm. “Now, what kinda gentlemen would we be if we left a pretty girl on the street in the middle of the night?” It does the trick, and she gets into the cab with a sweet smile aimed in Jet’s direction.
Phew.
When the cab’s gone and around the corner, Lennon stands full height, knocking me backward.
I stumble and almost fall, but they’re both there to hold me up. I throw my arms around their shoulders, and one of them smells delicious. Like spiced vanilla. I think it’s Lennon, but I can’t be sure, so I lean in Jet’s direction for elimination purposes because he’s safer. Less Lennon-y.
“Whoa there, big guy,” Jet says.
“I’m fline. Uh … fline.” Ugh, why can’t I say fine.
“Yeah, you look it,” Lennon says.
My head lolls in his direction. “Aren’t you the drunk one here?”
He shakes his head. “Not even close.”
“You looked like you needed help,” Jet says.
“She looked like she was trying to eat your face,” Lennon adds. “And I know how pretty you think it is. Thought you might’ve wanted to keep it that way.”
I don’t mean to laugh, and my head tells me not to, but I’m starting to think my body isn’t attached to my brain right now.
“Brain don’t feel drunk. Body not listening.” That makes sense … doesn’t it?
“Okay, caveman,” Jet says, “how about we get you a cab?”
“I dunno even how it happened,” I slur some more. “I didn’t buy any drinks.”
Lennon chuckles. “You, Mr. Big Shot, had people buying you drinks all night.”
“Oh, right. Because I’m fucking awesome.”
Lennon pats my back. “Humility is an admirable trait. Just sayin’.”
“But did you see that goal? That shit is why I fucking do this. Ash always said it was a meaningless game—there are bigger things in life and other bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.”
“Who’s Ash?” Jet asks.
“A shithead,” I answer.
“Thanks for the clarification,” Jet says sarcastically.
A cab appears from nowhere, and they help me into the back seat.
“What’s your address?” Lennon asks. He has one hand on the door and stares down at me with an expression that’s either pissed off or amused. It’s weird he can pull off both at the same time and look hot while he does it.
I blink at him, my mind empty. “Umm …”
“That’s what I thought.” Lennon pushes me into the middle seat and gets in next to me while Jet runs around the cab and boxes me in on the other side.
“It’s not my fault I don’t know my address yet. I know how to get there.” I look around, but everything’s kinda blurry. “Yeah, bang a left.” I point. “I think …”