Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 133224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
“Right?” She giggles. Henley appears to win, and everyone screams and picks him up and throws him around as if he’s as light as a feather while he laughs out loud.
“Okay, this is ridiculous.” Juliet winces. “They are completely out of control.”
I turn back to the front and stare out the window as we drive around for a while.
“Oh god, look at Blake,” she says as she watches the video again.
I turn back around. “What’s he doing?” She hits play again and passes me the phone.
Antony has filmed Henley playing cards, but in the background, you can see Blake talking to two beautiful, scantily dressed women. He has his hand on one’s behind, and he leans in and kisses the other on the lips. He says something, and they both giggle on cue.
“What the hell?” I whisper. “Two?”
Henley wins the game, and Blake jumps in the air and joins in the celebrations, leaving the two women alone while he carries on like a lunatic.
“Ugh, I don’t even want to know what they’re doing.” I hand back the phone in disgust. I hear another video play from the back seat, and I can hear them all laughing out loud. “Are they in an elevator?” Chloe asks.
“I don’t know what’s happening, but it must be hilarious. Blake and Antony’s laughter is hysterical.” Juliet hiccups. “What could possibly be so funny?”
Ugh, good-time Blake Grayson . . . always the life of the party.
She clicks on another video, and Antony’s voice comes on as he’s filming. “Jules, Miss Juliet Drinkwater,” he announces as if he’s a television presenter. “Henley is getting your wedding present.”
“Oh no,” Juliet gasps. “They’re in a tattoo parlor.”
“What?” I spin around. “Seriously, they are out of control right now. He is never going to Vegas again.” I lean in to watch the footage.
Once again, the sound of uncontrollable laughter is echoing. The footage flicks to Henley getting a tattoo on his chest over his heart.
J U L I E T
“Oh my god,” we all gasp.
“He’s going to regret that tomorrow.” Juliet laughs. “I wish he got it on his forehead.”
“Ahhhhhh,” we hear in the background. The camera flicks to Blake lying on a bed.
“What’s he doing?” I lean in to see closer. “Don’t tell me he’s getting a tattoo too.”
“Beat it,” we hear someone call.
“Yeah, that’s it,” someone else cries.
A woman comes out with a surgical tray, and everyone erupts into hysterical laughter. An out-of-control man cheers.
“What is happening?”
Antony is laughing so hard that the camera is flicking all over the place, and we can’t tell what’s going on.
“Got to go.” Antony laughs. “Grayson’s about to beat the meat.”
“What’s happening?” I frown.
“I have no idea.”
“He’s getting his cock pierced.” Antony laughs hard.
The camera goes black, and we hear Blake’s hysterical laughter as it fades into the distance.
“What?”
“Oh. My. God,” Juliet gasps. “Blake is actually getting his dick pierced. Is he insane?”
“Obviously.” I drag my hand down my face in disgust. “Why am I not surprised?”
“He’s seriously out of control,” Chloe replies.
Another video bounces in, and Juliet opens it. It’s a photo of Henley asleep in the bathtub. He has a bucket and a pillow under his head.
“Oh, thank god, he’s back home safe.” Juliet sighs with relief.
“Why would they put him in the bathtub, the assholes?” I scoff.
I turn back to the front, and my mind flicks back to the two women that Blake was kissing earlier.
I don’t know much about life, but I do know one thing: there will be no more videos sent through tonight.
Blake and Antony probably dropped Henley at home and then went back out.
What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.
The sun is shining, and the birds are chirping. It’s a beautiful day, and I’m late for work.
It wouldn’t be a Monday if I wasn’t.
I pour my coffee into my thermos cup and grab some fruit from the refrigerator.
Now that I’m on a budget, I have to pack my lunch all the time. Those little coffees and carryout snacks here and there add up. I grab an apple and an orange and the sandwich that I made last night from the refrigerator. I put my handbag over my shoulder, grab my coffee, and make my way out the front door.
From my peripheral vision, I can see that Blake’s garage door is going up, but I refuse to look over.
Refuse!
I’m still angry with him, and to make matters worse, he hasn’t bothered to try and call me in days.
So now I’m angrier.
I hope his new piercing makes his dick fall off.
I open my car door and sling my handbag in to sit on the front seat. I lean down and peer through the window of my car to see Blake walk out the front door of his house in a navy suit. His dark sandy hair has a wave to it, and he’s standing tall. The way he carries himself screams confidence.