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)
“Where’s my brother?” Wade asks me.
I’m not his keeper. I shrug. “They were right behind us until we made the turnoff.”
Hayden turns her head and giggles. “Let’s go in.”
I know I’m biased but Griff’s easily the best-looking guy in the room. His tux fits his muscled frame perfectly and he has the sexy kind of confidence none of the boys in my class have mastered yet.
Unfortunately, that seems to put him on my teachers’ radar as soon as we arrive. Ms. Johnson follows us around like I invited the neighborhood drug dealer to be my date instead of the love of my life.
Ignoring her, I walk closer to Griff. He nudges me slightly ahead of him as we work our way through the crowd but keeps his hand on either my hip or at the small of my back, a constant reassurance.
Our big round table’s in the corner, and I hurry to slap my purse down on the chair closest to the wall. Griff chuckles and pulls out the chair next to it for me.
He leans down, his warm breath coasting over my shoulder. “You know me well.”
“I do.”
He hands me my purse and sits in the chair I claimed for him as the rest of my friends take their seats. Hayden drapes a shawl over the seat next to me to save it for Kyla.
Remy was wrong; dinner’s served almost immediately. Rubbery chicken and some sort of fancy rice. I only try a forkful of the rice, knowing I’ll end up dropping more of it in my cleavage than in my mouth.
Halfway through dinner, Kyla totters in and plops into her chair. Wesley’s still nowhere to be seen.
Good.
“Griffffff,” Kyla slurs, leaning forward to rest her boobs and elbows on the table. “You’re old enough to buy us alcohol, riiiight?”
Seems like she’s already had a few drinks.
“No.” Griff’s tone leaves no room for discussion.
I snort and slap my hand over my mouth.
Kyla smirks and jabs her finger toward Griff. “I see you.”
Ignoring her, Griff drapes his arm over my shoulders and slides down in his chair. He lazily leans toward me and pulls me toward him at the same time. “Sorry, Wesley can risk an arrest to buy her alcohol if he wants, but I can’t afford to take the chance.”
“I don’t want you to.” I press my lips to his cheek. “You’re mine. Not my friends’ bartender.”
Desire brightens his eyes. “That right, Muffin?” His low voice is only meant for me.
“Oh, yes.”
He shifts his gaze to the ceiling.
“What?” I ask.
He slides his hand into his pocket and produces a flat black key card. “If you get tired of the after-party later, we have our own room.” He glances around the table. “Although, Hayden said most of your class rented rooms on the same floor, so it might be too loud to sleep.”
“You didn’t have to do that.” My friends only rented rooms at the hotel because they couldn’t bring the party to their parents’ houses. Griff has his own apartment.
He curls his arm around the back of my chair and rests his hand on my shoulder. “I don’t want you to miss out on anything.”
Griff
For Molly’s sake, I ignore the cold stares and watchful eyes of the teachers monitoring the prom. Yeah, I didn’t end up graduating from this school, but I did graduate. I have a decent job—that nothing I learned here prepared me for. These teachers can shove their judgmental attitudes up their asses.
Besides, I’m not the only twenty-something here. That wanker Wesley somehow conned Kyla into letting him tag along. Poor girl looked heartbroken at Hayden’s house when he showed up wearing a bright green tie that didn’t even remotely match Kyla’s peach dress. Didn’t bother to bring her a corsage or even a damn flower. I wanted to punch him just for making one of Molly’s friends unhappy.
Who am I kidding? My urge to use Wesley’s face as a speed bag is there no matter what.
The asshole showed up and plonked himself into the chair next to Kyla just as dessert was served. And now I’m stuck sitting at the same table as him while the girls bop around to what Molly told me was “their song” right before she raced onto the dance floor.
Molly’s so cute dancing and singing with her friends, I’ll just watch her and ignore Wesley until the song’s over.
“You want some?” Wesley shouts at me.
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly before turning to see what he’s offering—although I already have an idea.
He holds out a silver flask. “You’re gonna need it to get through the rest of the night.” He rolls his eyes and mimics the girls’ excitement with a high-pitched jumble of sounds.
“Why’d you come, then?” I ask, unimpressed by his attempt to make fun of the girls.