Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
He pockets the condom and zips himself up, then turns to me. “You okay there, Boots?” There’s a smirk on his face that indicates he knows damn well that I’m fine. Well fucked, but fine. He closes the distance between us and nudges my chin up with his finger, then presses his lips to mine. “There’s a bathroom around the corner,” he says, straightening my hair with his fingers before bending and pulling the underwear still around my thighs up to my hips.
I nod and he grabs my hand before killing the light, then walks us back into the party like he owns the place. He walks me to the ladies’ room and I have a fleeting thought wondering if he’s ever fucked anyone else in that particular closet before deciding that I don’t care. I don’t give one fancy fuck who he’s been with, I’ve got him now and I’m keeping him.
I enter the bathroom and head straight for a stall to clean myself up, but I’m waylaid by Chloe and Sandra sitting in the lounge portion of the ladies’ restroom. I’ve walked into a conversation and a sad Sandra.
“Oh, hey.” I wave and eye the stalls across the room.
Chloe frowns and eyes me slowly. “At the party, Everly? Really? He lives like ten feet away. Jesus.”
Sandra’s eyes widen as she glances between us, getting Chloe’s meaning.
I shrug and head for a stall. “You’ve seen him, right?” I call out. “His place is much too far away when he looks like that.”
“Oh, God,” Sandra replies behind me.
“Be thankful you don’t live with her. Weekend update takes on a whole new meaning.”
“I can hear you!” I call from behind the door.
“I know!” Chloe calls back.
I finish and wash my hands then walk over to where they’re sitting, hand on hip.
“Hey, it’s all fun and games now, but who do you come to when you want to know if it’s normal for a guy to come in under a minute?” I point to myself. “Me. That’s who.” I raise an eyebrow in challenge.
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Now”—I turn my attention to Sandra—“why are you two hiding in the bathroom?”
“We’re not hiding,” she says, slumping on the sofa. “We’re just sitting for a minute.”
“Come on.” I step forward and hold out my hands to each of them. “Get up.” I pull them up and then stop at the mirror next to the door to freshen my lipstick and smooth out my hair. “I didn’t get you all sexed up to hide in the bathroom. Let’s go get Gabe.”
Thirty-Seven
We exit the bathroom. Sawyer leans against the banister surrounding the rotunda behind him, speaking with a couple of people I don’t recognize.
“I’ll meet you guys in the game room,” I say, nodding to the room next door that’s set up with video games. Then I slide in next to Sawyer, his arm going around my waist the moment I’m close enough. He introduces me to a couple of guys I won’t remember in an hour as I spy Gabe at the bar.
“I need a drink,” I tell Sawyer as soon as the guys leave our sides, keeping Gabe in my line of sight.
“I’m sure,” he replies dryly. But he doesn’t fight me on it, instead walks me straight over to Gabe, standing at a tall table near the bar with a brunette. She needs to go, obviously.
The guys shake hands and I immediately see the ease between them. They’re friends, I realize. I give Sawyer a little side-eye glare. He could have provided me with this information earlier.
“You’ve met my girlfriend?” He nods to Gabe and introduces me to the brunette. I’m given her name at this point but I promptly forget it. I’m sure she’s a lovely girl, but no. She needs to find someone who is not Gabe.
The guys delve into sports talk while I drum my fingers on the tabletop, strategizing. “How long have you two known each other?” I interrupt when I catch something about rowing come into the conversation.
“Since Harvard,” Gabe replies. “Roommates,”
“Uh-huh,” I respond. I flick my eyes over to Sawyer and he smiles.
I smile back as I pull my phone from my dress pocket. “Oh,” I say, frowning at the screen. “Oh, my.” I hold a hand over my mouth in faux shock and flash wide eyes at the table, catching the amused expression on Sawyer’s face as he waits for whatever stunt I’m about to pull.
“Sandra isn’t feeling well,” I announce. “Headache. Gabe”—I turn to him, placing my arm on his sleeve, eyes imploring—“could you drive her home?”
His eyes widen in surprise at my audacity, then he grins, glancing towards the room that Sandra went into a few minutes ago. The glance is so brief I almost miss it. Then his eyes are back on mine and he rubs his fingertips across his temple. “Sure, sure,” he agrees, then a moment later, “She needs a ride?” he asks, even though he’s just agreed to give her one.