Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 50620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 253(@200wpm)___ 202(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 253(@200wpm)___ 202(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Mia pressed her lips together, shaking her head.
“Don’t give me that look, baby sis. I didn’t do this.”
“Yes, you did,” she shot back. “Whatever shit you two are going through, you need to sort out before my wedding. Understood?”
I laughed at her feistiness. “You got it, boss.”
“I mean it, Will. Figure it out. She’s been drunk since she saw you. Clarke isn’t much of a drinker when you’re not around.”
I hooked my arm around her. “Ethan said you want to go to bed. It’s your bachelorette party. Come with us.”
“To a strip club? Do you remember the last time I went to one?”
I snorted. “Yeah. You looked like you wanted to crawl out of your skin.”
“And burn it off,” she quipped. “Nah, I think I’ll pass. I’m tired from the flight, and we’re three hours ahead of Vegas time. It’s late back home.”
“What’s a little jet lag when you’re having fun?”
“I’m good, Will.”
“Clarke’s coming with us. You cool with that?”
“As long as you don’t lose her or do anything stupid, yeah, I’m good with it.”
My sister was a bit of a pushover, the nice girl who bent to everyone’s will. That was the reason I thought Ethan was taking advantage of her when I found him naked in my sister’s bed.
Yeah, that was fun. Not.
That was the last way I wanted to find out my best friend and only sibling were sneaking around behind my back. It was the ultimate betrayal of my trust. But I’d gotten over it once he admitted his love for Mia. And now, we were days away from their wedding. After years of fucking debauchery with Ethan, I never thought he would settle down. I was one of the few Flyers not married with children. And with each new engagement or birth, Mia reminded me I can’t be Romeo forever.
But I can try.
Between Liam, Ethan, and Shane, they convinced Clarke to leave the bar with us. She clung to Liam’s side like another appendage. I hated the feeling stirring in my chest. Was it jealously? Fuck, no. If she was ending her night in anyone’s bed, it would be mine. And Liam knew better than to fuck with my girl.
My girl?
Oh, my God.
What’s wrong with me?
Clarke would never be my girl. I could never keep her for more than a night or two without some dramatic shit tearing us apart. Unlike me, Clarke was the jealous type. Every time she saw me in the papers with women, she had a fucking fit. Like I could stop fans from approaching me. I would never turn them away just because they were the opposite sex. But Clarke had always thought the worst of me.
Romeo. That nickname was the fucking death of me. Everyone thought I was a player off the ice, and they were not entirely wrong. Until I’d met Clarke, I never hooked up with a woman more than a few times.
She was the exception.
And a giant pain in my dick.
On our way through the New York-New York Hotel, Clarke slipped from Liam’s grasp and found her way to me. She bumped her shoulder into my arm and looked up at me, waiting for me to throw my arm around her. I held her drunk ass in complete silence, enjoying the way her body felt against mine. She still had the money stuffed in her cleavage, so of course I had to mess with her.
I grabbed one of the twenty-dollar bills, intentionally copping a feel as I took the money.
She swatted at my hand and laughed. “I was going to give that back,” she slurred.
“Nah, it’s yours.”
I slid the twenty into her bra and winked as my fingers grazed her nipple. We were in public, but not like me touching her tits in front of people was even a noticeable offense in Vegas. My sister had her back to us. Liam was the only one paying attention to us.
Not like it mattered what we were doing. There were strippers and hookers and nightlife freaks roaming about the city. People stood on the strip handing out posters with naked women on them. They openly advertised sex, welcomed it in every way. I could have fucked Clarke against the wall in the casino, and most people probably wouldn’t have batted an eyelash.
If she weren’t so drunk, Clarke probably would have pushed me away. But she surprised me by moaning in response. Gripping my wrist so I had to keep touching her.
“Fuck, baby,” I groaned. “Don’t torture me.”
She licked her lips as I lowered my hand to my side. “You want me, Will?”
“Does a hooker suck cock?”
Clarke laughed. “You’re so cute when you’re being… you.”
“Now I know for sure you’ve had too much to drink.”
“Nope,” she muttered. “I’m not even buzzed.”
When she swayed to the right, I slipped my fingers between hers and pulled her closer. “Yeah, you look really fucking sober, doll.”