Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 96513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
By the end of the night, when we’d finally dragged our drunk asses from Sparks to Factory and then from there to Club 360, we were a hot mess. English’s tiara had been lost. Her sash was askew. We were stumbling through the crowds, laughing and having the time of our lives.
I pushed through the crowd at the top of the world and ordered shots from the bartender. We had a booth at the back, but we hadn’t been in it for more than a minute since we got here, all of us preferring the high energy on the dance floor. Or possibly it was the alcohol talking.
Still, shots appeared before me a minute later. I had no idea what I’d ordered, but the liquid was clear. Probably a good sign.
The girls each grabbed one from the bar and held it aloft.
“To English!” Lark cried.
“To freedom!” Whitley added over top of it.
Then we tossed the shots back and dropped them back on the bar.
“I’m so fucking happy for you,” I told English. “You and Court and your little kitten.”
“Trouble is the most adorable thing in the world,” English confirmed, swaying on her feet. We had pretty high tolerances, but tonight was above and beyond.
Whitley giggled and tipped her head back. “There are so many fucking hot women here tonight.”
“How fucked up are you?” Lark asked with a laugh.
“Drunk enough to take one into the bathroom,” Whitley said with a giggle. Then she leaned forward and put her finger to her mouth. “Shh… don’t tell Robert.”
I snorted. “You wouldn’t do that to Robert.”
She winked at me. “You’re right. I’m not that kind of girl.”
“But if you were single…”
She sighed as her eyes scanned the crowd. “If only I were single.”
“Like when you slept with Gavin,” English chimed in, slurring her words together until it sounded like slepwifGavn.
“I am not wasted enough for this conversation,” Whitley said, teetering in her heels.
“Here you go.” Lark plopped a drink into her hand. She passed out the others she’d ordered. “Now, you can tell us about it.”
“How do you even know?”
“Besides the fact that you were all over each other?” English asked.
“The guys told us,” I let Whitley know.
Her jaw dropped slightly. “How do they know?”
“Poker night. Gavin told them,” Lark confirmed. “Sam told me when he got home.”
“Bastard!” Whitley chimed in.
“So, how was it?” I prodded.
Whitley flushed even more than she already had been, standing sloshed on a rooftop in Manhattan. “He was good.”
“Good?” I asked incredulously. “Whitley, the slayer of men and women alike. Whitley, the storyteller. You have to give us more than good.”
She rolled her eyes. “He was good. I don’t know what you want me to say. I shouldn’t even be talking about it. I’m dating his friend.”
“We haven’t seen Sir Robert in a while,” English said sloppily.
“Sir Robert?” I asked, looking at Lark.
She shrugged and mouthed the word, Wasted, to me.
“He’s trying not to be clingy. He’ll be at the Fashion Week gala with me though.”
“Uh-huh,” I muttered.
“What?” Whitley asked. “You got something to say, Van Pelt?”
“Robert’s fine. I like him. He’s a nice guy. But I always thought you’d want something a little more…” I trailed off.
“More what?” Whitley asked.
“Flashy,” Lark finished.
“Robert is flashy.”
Lark and I exchanged another look.
Whitley huffed. “Whatever, y’all,” she said, her Southern accent coming out thick in her inebriated state.
“What about you and Camden?” Lark butted in.
“What about us?”
“Are we going to have a baby Percy soon?”
English’s eyes went round as saucers. “Are you pregnant?” She snatched the drink straight out of my hand.
I couldn’t stop my laugh. “I’m not pregnant, English! Would I be drinking if I were?”
“Oh, right,” she said, offering the drink to me.
I shook my head and let her keep it.
“We’re… we’re talking about it.”
I told them how we’d started trying as we all swayed to the motion of the club. The night was almost over, and I was surprised that I’d made it this long without this conversation.
“Yay!” Lark cried.
English danced in a circle. “You’re going to have a baby.”
“I talked to Whitley, and she helped me see that I had been having panic attacks for nothing.”
Whitley breathed a sigh of relief. “Not talking about it has been killing me. Did you take my advice and go home and fuck him?”
I laughed. “I did. I still have the prescription you wrote.”
Whitley told the other girls in on what she’d prescribed, and they all went up in an uproar.
“And you want this, right?” Lark said. “You and Camden?”
I nodded, a real smile coming to my face. “I think… we’re finally in the right place. So, we’ll see what happens.”
Lark cleared her throat and tipped her head toward the entrance. “Looks like someone didn’t get the message about girls’ night.”
I whipped around and found none other than Camden Percy standing at the front. He’d changed out of the jeans he wore earlier, and he was looking through the crowd as if waiting to find me. A shiver ran down my spine in anticipation.