Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 169272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 846(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 846(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
“I can’t imagine ever running out of fantasies,” Kat says. “Once I get one checked off, another one immediately pops into my head to replace it.”
“Wow.”
“The best part is Josh is all-in. I told him about my top fantasies, and how they have to happen to me to be effective—you know, like, I can’t plan them or be in charge in any way, or else they won’t work because I won’t be able to lose myself completely—and Josh was like, ‘Leave it all to me, babe. I’ve got this.’”
“That’s pretty hot.”
Kat winks. “That’s Joshua William Faraday, bitch.”
We hoot with laughter.
“Sounds like Josh is the perfect man for you,” I say. But it’s a mistake. The minute the words leave my mouth, Kat looks lovesick again. Quickly, I add, “Listen, honey, don’t put too much stock in that Eiffel Tower photo of Henn and me. As sweet as Henn’s expression was in that shot, it doesn’t mean anything because he doesn’t know me yet. It sounds to me like you and Josh are creating something really special—your own brand of magic.”
“I hope we are. But he’s so damned hard to read. My biggest fear is that it’s only about sex for him. I’m loving the sex, don’t get me wrong. But I want more, you know?”
“I get it. All I’m saying is last night was like a fairytale for Henn and me, so don’t compare yourself to us. If Henn is still looking at me like I walk on water six months from now, after he’s gotten to know the full panoply of my annoying habits, flaws, and crippling insecurities, then, okay, you can look at that photo and think, ‘Couples goals!’ Until then, chalk that look up to Henn being buzzed, horny, and highly impressed with my plunging neckline.”
Kat scoffs. “Henn wasn’t staring at your amazing tits in that moment, babe. He was staring into your beautiful soul.”
I snort. “You can see my soul in my tits?”
Kat laughs. “Hannah, you know full well Henn likes you for you.”
I blush. “Yes, I do.”
“But, yes, he also likes your tits. A lot.”
Again, we both laugh. Before the conversation resumes, Kat’s phone rings.
“Hey, Rockstar!” Kat says brightly, which means the caller must be the youngest of the four Morgan brothers, Dax. “Yeah, I’m still in Vegas—currently, lying by the pool with my bestie and a fruity drink. No, my work bestie, Hannah Banana Montana Milliken. She came for a double date and stayed for a girls’ trip. Mm hmm. So, tell me the latest.”
As Kat dives into her phone call, I begrudgingly decide to check my work emails. But quickly, I’m diverted by an unexpected missive in my personal inbox from my all-time favorite makeup and skincare line. The subject line of the email reads: “A special offer only for you!” It’s all I need to see to open the message. I can’t afford to buy their wildly expensive products on my own with any regularity, so I always ask for their stuff for birthdays and Christmases.
Much to my thrill, the email says I’m among a handful of customers who’ve been specially selected to win a free shipment of any five products from their premium line, if only I’ll take a brief marketing survey within the next twenty-four hours.
“Damn straight I will,” I mutter, as I click on the link and then quickly begin filling out the short survey. When I reach the end of the form, another one pops up asking me to select my free gifts, all of which will be priority-shipped to the home address they already have on file for me. There’s no request for my credit card or a password. Nothing whatsoever to indicate this email is a scam. So, of course, I gleefully click the “submit” button while saying a little “whoop.”
“Yeah, that sounds good,” Kat says on the call with her brother. “Send me links to whatever you find.” She pauses for her brother to speak before responding with, “Rabbit. Oh, and send me details about that new bar you guys will be playing at. Maybe I’ll catch your show with Ryan and Colby—unless, of course, Ry is bringing that Olivia chick with him. Yeesh.” She giggles. “Right? What the fuck is wrong with that man? Thinking with his dick again, obviously.” Kat sighs. “Okay, Wonder Twin. You, too. Thanks for doing the legwork on this. No, I love you the most. Mwah, baby.”
When Kat disconnects the call, I ask what’s up, and she explains she and her four brothers—Colby, Ryan, Keane, and Dax—are buying a joint birthday present for their beloved mother and that her youngest brother, Dax, is taking the lead on figuring everything out.
“I usually do it,” Kat explains, “but this year, I said, ‘Peace out, bitches. I’m going to Vegas.’”
At my urging, Kat tells me the latest about Dax’s three-man alternative-rock band, 22 Goats, including the fact that Dax and his two bandmates, Fish and Colin, have been saving money to record a full-length album in a fancy studio. Apparently, an album like that will cost at least fifteen grand. Not an easy amount to raise for three young, struggling musicians.