Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 50653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 253(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 253(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
“Whoa—what the fuck, Kit?” Callan grimaces. “Any of my brothers got near you, I’d break dicks off. Is there something you need to tell me?” The world shrinks around him. Muscles coil beneath his shirt, pulling the fabric taut.
She swipes his hand off her shoulder, rolling her eyes. “No, and I can take care of myself.”
Callan looks to Cutter, his brow raised, hands out, silently asking, “What the hell did I do?”
“Women are fucking hostile.” Cutter slides his hands into his pockets and looks over at a couple kids shooting water guns at ducks popping up in a booth.
“Do you both want to be dick punched?” Kitty glowers, her small frame standing poised with her hands on her hips.
Callan takes a step away from her, edging more into my space. Gravity draws me toward him, but he still hasn’t acknowledged my existence. The wait is excruciating. It’s a hundred percent a power play. And fuck him, it’s working. My cheeks heat. I want to scream, “Look at me, goddammit!”
Instead, I say, “You’d have to find them first.” I snort, dropping my gaze to Cutter’s crotch.
Cutter’s head swings so fast in my direction, I’m surprised he doesn’t get whiplash. Grabbing his junk, he retorts, “There’s enough to choke you with.”
Kitty narrows her eyes. “I saw her choke on a jelly bean so…”
“What the fuck does that mean?” he glowers.
“It means open this,” I hold my fist over a one-finger salute, pushing it toward him.
“Eat shit,” he snaps, folding his arms over his chest. It’s juvenile but easy fun.
“What’s gotten into you?” Callan nudges Kitty.
“No one yet, but the night’s young,” she taunts, downing the rest of her drink and flattening the cup against his chest. “Find a trashcan for that, will you?”
“You’re being bitchy.”
Ignoring him, she hooks her arm in mine and drags me in the opposite direction. As I turn away from him, his gaze clashes with mine, and that filthy smirk tilts his lips.
I’m fucked.
Steering Kitty toward a food truck that sells corndogs, I casually mention, “Cutter is an ass but a pretty one.”
She looks back over her shoulder toward where we left them. “He has an ol’ lady.” She shrugs. I don’t hide my wince. My instincts tell me there’s a lot more to that conversation than she’s ready for.
A groan tumbles from her lips as Georgina approaches us dressed in a satin summer dress that clings to her body like it was designed just for her and the maker sewn her into it.
“Where’s your brother?” she demands, her sneer aimed in my direction.
“Start over.” Kitty folds her arms, cocks a hip, and glares. I order us one corn dog each, and Georgina scrunches her nose in disgust.
“That bossy bitch Diamond sent me looking for him.” She moves from foot to foot, trying to stop her heels from sinking into the mud, her ridiculous stilettos a dumb choice for this kind of event.
“Diamond organized this whole thing while taking care of every ungrateful bastard at our club, don’t be an asshole and show her some respect.” I think I love Kitty.
“I’m doing what she asked, aren’t I?” She huffs, chewing on gum. Harley. I hate how everything reminds me of her. It hurts too much, and this wench is nothing like Harley. She doesn’t deserve any comparison.
“Only because it was to look for my brother. If it was anything else, you would have ignored her,” Kitty states. I hand the poor corn dog man our money and squirt sauce on mine.
“Have you seen him or not?” If looks could kill, Kitty and I would be incinerated right now.
“Not,” Kitty lies. Georgina sends a scathing look my way before she storms off, flicking her dark, pin-straight hair over her shoulder.
“Are they a thing?” It’s out of my mouth before I can stop it, and I’m pretty sure she hears the disappointment in my tone.
“It’s complicated.” She waves an indifferent hand and snags her corn dog from me, shoving half of it down her throat.
The thunder of my heart is irrational. I’m not the jealous type. All the same, I find myself saying, “Uncomplicate it.”
“Princess, please don’t be another Callan fangirl,” she pleads around her mouthful of food, a piece falling from her lip onto her shirt. “He doesn’t deserve you, and when he rejects you, I’ll lose a friend.” She scoops up the chewed food and eats it.
“Ouch.” I feign wounded.
“I don’t mean it like you’re not fucking beautiful because look at you. Shit, why do you think Georgina hates you? He rejects everyone, trust me.”
Hate is a strong word. Without thought, my hand goes to my hip, rubbing his now faded mark. “I’m not some fragile damsel. Trust me when I say I have zero interest in dating your brother.” There’s truth in that.
“Good because Callan doesn’t do dating.” Taking my hand, she begins walking backward, dragging me with her. “Let’s go get drunk.”