Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“You have a stunning home.” She digs into her purse. “I brought you this.” She hands him an envelope.
Is she showing me up? It’s a no-gift party.
“You shouldn’t have.” Gary winks. “But thank you. Grab something to eat, and enjoy the party.”
“Sounds great,” she replies with too much enthusiasm.
When Gary heads in the opposite direction, I slip a hand into my front jeans pocket and glare at her, again catching her floral scent. “You bought my friend a card?”
“I bought our friend a card and a gift card for coffee.”
“You’re making me look bad.”
She messes with the collar of my gray flannel shirt. “I put your name on the card too.” Her gaze flits to mine when she’s done with my collar. “I make you look better.”
“You’re full of shit. Now go eat.” I gesture with my chin before taking a swig of my beer.
“Bossy.”
I shake my head, but not before grinning.
“The ribs. Dude, make sure you get the ribs.” Todd sidles up to me while wiping sauce from his lips.
With an easy hum, I shift my attention to the spread of food on the dining room table.
“What, uh . . . is going on with you and my girlfriend?” Todd stuffs half a brownie into his mouth.
“Girlfriend?”
He eyes Jamie, filling her plate with food. “It’s not official yet, but we shared a moment when she brought those cookies. Are you cool with me asking her out?”
“Is your wife cool with it?”
“Soon-to-be ex-wife. I’ll message her and ask.”
“Make sure you get your balls back in the divorce settlement.”
“Fuck you, Fitz.” He finger combs his mullet.
My nose wrinkles. “What’s that smell?”
Todd sniffs his fingers. “Oh, that’s my tea tree hair oil. Keeps everything in the back soft and smooth.” He chuckles before making his way back to the food.
As with all of Gary’s parties, there’s music, enough food to satisfy all of Missoula, and a well-run bar, courtesy of Evette churning out drink after drink; her tight red chin-length curls spring in all directions when she shakes a cocktail. Evette’s a gifted mixologist when she’s not teaching first grade.
I fetch some food and chat with my buddies while keeping one eye on Jamie. For a designated driver, she’s consuming too many mixed drinks. She doesn’t have enough body weight to handle that much alcohol.
“Another beer?” Gary finds me again and holds out another bottle.
I shake him off. “I think I’m driving home.”
“But you brought a driver.”
For the past hour, Jamie’s been chatting it up with a group of teachers from Evette’s school, head tipped back in laughter and a new drink in her right hand every fifteen minutes. “I brought my roommate. I think this is her first party.”
Gary’s gaze follows mine, and he smirks. “What is she? A buck ten? This won’t end well. Maybe you should show her the bathroom, so she doesn’t lose it all over my floor.”
I barely register his words because my shitty DD is too entertaining. I have no idea what she’s saying to everyone huddled around her, but they seem to hang on her every word. I bet she’s, once again, sharing embarrassing Jeopardy!-level information. Perhaps she’s telling them about her friend’s nut oil.
I can’t focus or relax because I can’t take my eyes off Jamie. She makes me lose a game of darts, and I come in last playing pool.
I meet Deana, Rachel, Gabby, and Jocelyn. At least, I think those are their names. Four single women. Four possible chances to get laid. Yet I let my poor dick down because I brought the wrong roommate to Gary’s party.
“Hey, Evette. Have you seen Jamie?” I yell above the music, leaning over the bar while she shakes a drink.
“I’m not sure. But I can tell you, she’s a keeper.” Evette waggles her eyebrows at me.
I return a toothy grin. “Well, at the moment, I’m just trying to keep her from emptying the contents of her stomach onto your furniture or carpet.”
Evette gives me a funny look.
I check upstairs when I don’t find Jamie on the main floor. “Jaymes?” I knock on the bathroom door.
It eases open, and she jumps, glancing up at me. “Shit. Fitz. Sorry. Um . . . are you good?”
My hands rest against the thick doorframe, blocking her from exiting the bathroom. “I’m drunk as fuck. And I think I just impregnated the music teacher from Evette’s school.”
Her eyes widen, lips parted.
“And I want to go home, so I’ve been looking for my designated driver.”
She swallows hard and salutes me with a shaky hand to her forehead. “At your service.”
“You’re drunk.”
She narrows her eyes. “I am?”
I cast my gaze to the ceiling. “I’m glad we brought your Jeep and not my truck. Let’s go.”
“Do you think you should at least exchange numbers with the music teacher before we go?” She follows me to the stairs.