Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 158872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 530(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 530(@300wpm)
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Griff
“Why are you sleeping out here in the hallway like a hobo?” Remy’s irritated rumble pulls me out of my semi-asleep state.
I lift my head and stare up at him. “I didn’t think spending the night in a hotel room with my girlfriend and her underage friends was a great idea.” I glance at the door. “But I didn’t want to leave them unprotected.”
He holds out his hand to me. “What happened, bonehead?”
I grab him and haul myself off the floor. “You won’t believe me if I tell you.” I run my hands through my hair.
“So…” He cocks his head in that dickishly annoying way he’s perfected over the years. “Why exactly did you rent a hotel room with my sister?”
“That’s what you’re worried about?” I gesture to the long hallway. “Her whole class rented rooms. I didn’t want her to feel left out.”
“Uh-huh.” Remy’s eyes narrow.
I don’t bother saying nothing happened—one, it’d be a lie, and two, it’s none of his business.
“I thought she wanted to go to the mystery after-party thing or whatever?” He waves his hand toward the staircase. “Or was she lying about that?”
I flick my gaze to the ceiling and count to five. “She did want to go. But she was tired when we got here.” Then we got distracted giving each other orgasms and forgot all about the after-party. “Then the girls showed up.”
“All right. So, what happened?”
I give him the briefest possible version of the story that still gets across why Wesley needs his ass kicked.
“He booted them all out of his room?” Remy stares at me with his mouth hanging open. “Poor Kyla.” He hangs his head and runs his hand over the back of his neck. “Molly told me Darcy asked if I’d go with her.”
“Yeeesh.” I let out a disgusted noise.
“Yeah, that was my response, too, jackass,” he grumbles. “Now, I wish I had.”
“I don’t know if it would’ve mattered. Kyla was drunk before we even had dinner. And Darcy’s been in a mood.”
“Bullet dodged then.” He rolls his eyes. “Is Molly okay?”
“Yeah.” I snort. “She took charge and got everyone in line.”
The corners of his mouth lift. “Of course she did.” He glances down the hall. It’s thankfully empty now. But who knows how much longer that will last? “All right. Let’s go pay this twatwaffle a visit.”
I smack my fist against my palm. “About time.”
We walk the long hallway and finally stop at the last door on our left. “Pretty sure this is it.” I rap my knuckles against the wood. I’d rather not bang on it and draw attention to us if I don’t have to.
“Housekeeping,” Remy says in a ridiculous, high-pitched voice.
I side-eye him. “You think this is funny?”
“Not yet.”
I knock again, louder this time.
“Fuck off, you disgusting bitch!” someone shouts behind the door.
“This motherfucker,” I growl.
“Don’t get carried away,” Remy warns me in a low voice. “I don’t need you getting arrested. Half the town owes his father favors.”
Fuck that. I knock again. Harder this time. Insistent.
The door swings open. Wesley stands there wearing nothing but sloppy boxer shorts and a stupid smirk. I step in front of Remy and let my fist fly, connecting with Wesley’s cheek. The quick jab knocks him backward. Pain grazes my knuckles, but I ignore it and focus on the jackass in front of me.
Remy enters behind me, closing the door with a soft click.
Shock and wide-eyed outrage twist Wesley’s expression. He clutches his cheek and stares at us. “What the hell was that for?”
I glare and don’t say a word. Has he done so many awful things he really doesn’t know why we’re here? “You tell me.”
His gaze darts around the room. “Kyla?”
“Bingo.”
“Come on, man!” Wesley holds his arms out wide. “You have no idea what I’ve been through tonight. I’ve suffered enough.” He shudders.
“Nah, sounds like Karma came to collect.” I shrug. “Don’t try to take advantage of girls you get drunk.”
Remy chuckles—a dark, terrifying sound that snaps Wesley’s head to the side.
“I didn’t take advantage,” Wesley protests. “She was fucking begging for it.”
I kind of doubt that, but I wasn’t exactly a witness to what went down either. Just the aftermath.
“You kicked her out when you should’ve taken care of her,” Remy says. “The fuck is wrong with you?”
“Dude.” Wesley’s eyes bug. “She threw up on my dick.” He points to his crotch, in case we’re confused about what body part he’s whining about. “I had to take the hottest shower possible.” He turns his head to the side and retches.
“While you let her wander around the hotel, drunk and covered in vomit,” I add.
“Hayden said they were going to Molly’s room.” He vaguely gestures at me and snickers. “Your girl’s such a prude, they knew they wouldn’t be interrupting anything.”
His attempt to insult Molly doesn’t faze me, but Remy chokes.