Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 110360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
I blinked. “That’s—”
“Weird,” she finished for me. “But that’s Leo. We’ve all been through hell with one of the men out there and know what it’s like to need a friend you can trust. I can personally vouch for all of them.”
I swallowed hard. That was rare and virtually impossible in a world like mine.
“Thanks. I appreciate that. But I kind of just want to be alone for a while.”
“Fair enough.” She extended a hand my way. “But just so you know. I’ve decided to go with the fully nuclear option. He’s going to be losing his mind for the next hour or so waiting for Levee to arrive. It should buy you some time to get into bed before he tries to talk to you again.”
I smiled. “I like you.”
She clapped her hands and bounced on her toes. “Excellent addition. I’ll tell him you hit on me too. He’ll be furious—and turned on.” She winked again.
While torturing Devon did sound like fun, it wasn’t going to help me sort through the mess in my head or pinpoint why I was so hurt in the first place. I’d still wake up in the morning lost, confused, and without him. Nobody won there, except the hangover I was sprinting toward.
“Hey, before you go, tell me something about Devon?”
She pursed her lips and then blew out a raspberry. “Okay, that’s a tall order. What kind of something?”
I shrugged, but the words that came out were anything but simple. “How often does he sleep with his clients?”
She also shrugged. Though her answer really was simple. “Just you.”
“Right.”
“I’m serious. Devon is a lot of things. But he’s not a womanizer, always looking for his next conquest. On or off the job.”
I hated how nice that felt. Especially coming from his friend, who I had no idea if she was being honest or just trying to help him get out of the doghouse.
But there was only one way to find out.
“Fine,” I huffed. “Go get the ladies.”
Her smile turned triumphant. “I’ll grab some more wine too.”
She disappeared from the room, and I made a quick trip to the bathroom to make sure the outside of me didn’t match the jumbled wreck on the inside. It did. I looked like hell. Puffy eyes, red streaks of paint still hidden in my hairline, flakes of mascara peppering my skin under my eyes.
Shit. Was it too late to change my mind?
“Knock, knock,” Rhion called, answering my unspoken question. “I come bearing reinforcements and refills.”
I walked out of the bathroom to find three kind smiles and one short brunette who looked like she might throw up.
Grinning, I walked to her first. “You must be Mira.”
She bobbed her head up and down like she couldn’t stop it once it had been set in motion.
I started to extend my hand, but the woman dove into my arms, wrapping me in a hug.
The tall blonde, who looked slightly older than the rest but no less stunning, quietly laughed and shot me a warm smile. “She’s a big fan. I told her as long as she doesn’t cry, she can stay.”
Mira backed out of my arms, drying her eyes on the palms of her hands. “Shit. I’m sorry. I’ll get it together I swear.”
“Oh, girl. You don’t have to apologize to me. You should have seen me the first time I met Nick Jonas. Full-on snot-sob. Our paths have never once crossed again, and I don’t think that’s a coincidence.”
Her eyes danced with wonder. “I was more into Joe.”
“Perfect. Then we won’t even have to fight over them.”
My gaze drifted up…up…up…to the woman behind her.
Holy shit, she was so gorgeous it was almost jarring. Long, glossy black hair, and a red dress that hugged her in all the right places. She had to have been at least six feet without the heels. With them, she was probably Devon’s height.
Her smile was slow and mischievous as she lifted an already full glass of wine in my direction. “Hi. I’m Brianna Talbot.”
Okay. Yep. That made sense. Supermodel turned lingerie mogul before the ripe old age of thirty. I knew the name. I owned some of her pieces. Made a mental note to break them out for Devon.
And then immediately erased that note because I was never letting him see me in lingerie again.
Which was also a lie, but further proof the wine was definitely doing its job.
“Lofton Beck,” I introduced myself, then glanced at Mira. “You’re crying over me while casually hanging out with a supermodel?”
Brianna laughed. “Yeah, Mir. I didn’t get any tears.”
Mira shot her a look. “You did. You just didn’t see them, because I was hiding in the bathroom trying to figure out how to avoid looking like a troll in a bathing suit next to you on the beach.”
I reached out and took one of the empty wine glasses from Rhion’s fingers and poured myself another drink. “I’m with her on this one. If you’re in a bathing suit, I might skip the company pool party this year too.”