Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 125845 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 629(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 419(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125845 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 629(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 419(@300wpm)
I check behind us, noting the line for the downstairs bathroom. “How ’bout you keep me company while I wait in line?”
“I’ll do you one better.” He winks and holds out his hand.
I take it.
And when I notice Hunter frowning in our direction just before we exit the room, I can’t fight a smug smile. I hadn’t intended on it happening right this second, but looks like Operation Jealousy has officially commenced.
Upstairs, Conor opens a door and gestures for me to enter. “I’ve got the master bedroom with the ensuite. My toilet is yours, milady.”
I snicker. “Thanks, milord.”
In the bathroom, I toss out my lollipop, then lift up my dress and do my thing. I feel slightly stupid wearing a short dress in the middle of winter, but we stopped off at Brenna and Hunter’s house after the game, where Brenna convinced me to ditch my leggings and sweater for one of her dresses—a long-sleeved, ribbed sweater dress that barely reaches my knees. Black, of course.
As I wash my hands, I hear the murmur of voices beyond the bathroom door. A female one, and more than one male. I emerge to find Matt sprawled on the bed next to a girl with dark braids. “Hi!” she says when she spots me. “I’m Andrea.”
“Demi.”
“Come sit down,” Conor calls from the small couch. The master is big enough to contain a double bed, a dresser, sofa, and huge flat screen TV. Conor’s on one end of the couch, fiddling with a video game controller. Hunter is on the other end, uncapping a bottle of amber-colored liquid.
“Whiskey?” I say, wrinkling my nose. “We’re drinking whiskey now? What happened to your precious beer?” When we got here, he’d made a big deal about how Matt had picked up a case of Dampf Punk for them. Obviously, I inquired as to why anyone would pick such a stupid name for a beer, at which point he’d given me the finger.
“We’re all out. The only thing that’s left is the watery keg.” He makes a face. “Come do a shot with me, Semi.”
I hesitate. If I start doing shots, I might lose my head. On the other hand, I could use the liquid courage. Truth be told, I have no clue how to go about seducing somebody.
“Is it still cool if I crash on your couch tonight?” I ask him.
Hunter nods. He removes his baseball cap to run his fingers through his dark hair, then shoves the cap back on.
I join him on the couch. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
While Conor is busy setting up a skateboarding game, Hunter pours a shot and swallows it back.
I watch the strong column of his throat as he gulps the whiskey. I want to kiss him right there—right at the base of his throat. I wonder if I’d feel his pulse fluttering beneath my lips.
He passes me the shot glass. I eye it suspiciously. “What? I don’t get my own?”
“There’s only one up here. If you want your own, go downstairs and get one.” Hunter lifts an eyebrow. “What, you afraid of catching my cooties?”
“Your tongue’s been in my mouth. If you have cooties, I’m already infected.”
That makes Conor chuckle. “Pour me a shot, too.”
“Me first,” I say, lifting the glass to my lips.
I drink, and the alcohol instantly makes my eyes water. Eeek. I’m not used to whiskey, I guess. I can sling back tequila like a pro, but something about this whiskey is getting me buzzed harder and faster than usual.
Hunter pours another one, and I pass the shot to Conor. He swallows it, then starts a game. I watch as his skateboarder performs a series of tricks on a concrete half-pipe.
“Hey, that’s in Jacksonville!” I exclaim as I study the familiar setting on the screen.
“Kona Skatepark,” Conor confirms. “You been there before?”
“A few times. My ex”—Lord, it’s still so weird saying that—“was friends with a lot of skaters. Have you ever been to Florida?” I ask him.
“Nah, I’m a West Coast boy.”
“California?”
Conor nods. “Huntington Beach.”
“Never been,” I admit.
“You should come visit me this summer. I’ll show you around.”
Hunter rolls his eyes. “Watch out, Semi. He’s making his move.”
“I’m not making any moves,” protests Conor. “I’m just sitting here like a good little boy, playing my game.” He presses a few buttons on his controller, then gives me a cocky smile. “Unless you want me to make a move?”
I think it over. “Maybe.”
Hunter makes a grouchy noise. “Demi. I think I’m gonna have to cut you off.”
“I’ve literally had one shot!”
“And it’s clearly clouded your judgment if you’re openly flirting with this dumbass.”
On the bed, Andrea overhears him and giggles. “Um. You can’t not flirt with Conor Edwards. He just brings out that side in women.”
“What about me?” Matt complains, and I notice they’ve inched so close to each other they’re practically cuddling. “What side do I bring out in you?”