Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 87255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
But even that’s too much to deal with right now. As Renn said, we have bigger fish to fry.
I move to the glass and stand by the body print. But, as soon as I do, I realize the boobs line up with the height of mine. With a flushed face, I stand by the llama instead. This isn’t how I imagined Renn seeing my boobs.
I gulp.
What more did he see?
What more did we do?
My eyes find his. The corner of his lip twitches.
Nope. Move on.
“So what now, Renn?” I ask, forcing a swallow. “What’s the best way to handle this? How do we minimize the drama?”
“It’s a little late for that,” Brock says.
I turn to my brother, my head starting to hurt again. “Brock, I love you, but shut the hell up.”
“Excuse me?”
I don’t want to fight with him. I don’t want him to fight with Renn, either. But I simply don’t have the bandwidth to deal with his unreasonableness. My wits are already frayed to the point that they’re about to snap.
Ella tugs on his arm. “Let’s give them some privacy to work this out.”
“The last time we gave them privacy, they got married.”
That does it.
“You know what?” I ask, charging forward. “You’re not helping.”
“Someone needs to help you. You married Renn, Blakely.”
“Easy …” Renn warns.
“Or what?” Brock asks, looking at his friend. “You married her twelve hours ago, and now you’re her protector? Give me a fucking break.”
I can’t take it. I can’t do this again. “Brock … leave.”
“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m leaving you. You’re about to be embroiled in another fucking scandal that will make the last one look like a piece of cake. The two of you dragged me into this when you strolled into a wedding chapel and got married.”
“Lower your voice,” Ella says.
He turns to her and lifts a brow.
“Lower. Your. Voice.” Ella glares at him. “I know you’re unhappy right now, but this isn’t about you.”
“This affects me as much as it does them,” Brock says. “They’re both selfish—”
“Do not talk about your sister like that,” Ella says, gasping.
“Ella, don’t …” I say.
“I’ll be here to help you any way I can, Blakely.” She glares at Brock. “But you and I are done.”
“Ella …” he says, watching her storm out of the room. “Dammit. Come back.”
I cover my face with my hands. “Someone, anyone—how do we fix this before we all fall apart?”
Renn takes a deep breath. “We have two options.”
“Name them.”
He exhales. “One, we try to get the annulment. If that fails, we get a divorce. Pros … it’s straightforward. Cons … we’ll both get annihilated in different ways.”
Yay. “And two?”
He looks at me, then at Brock, and back at me. His gaze is wobbly. “We stay married.”
“What?” I yelp.
“It’s just an option. You asked for the options.”
My mouth hangs open. “I’m not staying married to you. Have you lost your mind?”
“I don’t mean for real. I just mean …” He groans. “I don’t know what I mean.”
I snort. “I hope you can back that statement up with a reason, considering you had the guts to say it.”
He takes a step away from my brother. “Look, this sounds … Well, I know how it sounds, okay? But one option we have is to stay married for a little while. We take the steam out of the media. We play it off like we did it on purpose. Like … it’s real.”
“Oh, come on,” Brock says, laughing in disgust. “You can’t be serious.”
I glare at him. “Leave. Be quiet or leave.”
“Or what?”
“Or …” I glance quickly at Renn. “I’ll call security and have you removed. This is my suite now.”
Renn turns his back to my brother and covers his mouth. His body shakes as he suppresses a laugh.
Brock’s eyes widen.
“I’m kidding,” I say. “But I’m also not. I understand you’re worried and not vocalizing that in the best way. Considering the situation, I’m willing to overlook it. But I’m a grown woman, Brock. I appreciate you. But either be helpful or leave.”
“What’s gotten into you?” he asks.
“I’m wasting a perfectly good birthday on this bullshit. It’s irritating me a little,” I say.
“Oh fuck. Blakely, your birthday …” Brock says, frowning.
“Yep. Happy birthday to me.”
“Happy birthday, Mrs. Brewer,” Renn says, testing the waters.
“Renn—” Brock starts.
I hold up a hand—which he never likes—and pray he stops talking.
Walking back and forth across the room—from Brock to the llama with a cigar—I weigh my options.
If we get an annulment, our lives go up in flames. We’ll survive it, but it’ll be a nightmare for a while. I’m not looking forward to all the trash that will be spewed my way. But I survived that once before, so I can again.
If we stay married, there might be some smoke, but we could avoid an inferno. Maybe. It also might drag out the whole thing and waste more of my life with a man who isn’t for me.