Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
But, to each their own, right?
Olivia’s virginity is Olivia’s business. Or so she tells me whenever I bring up the subject.
Decision made, I swing around to Carter, who is so hot on my heels that when I turn, my breasts brush against his chest. It’s so embarrassing the way my nipples instantly go on high alert. I take a step back and his hands settle on my shoulders to steady me.
He raises a brow.
I tamp down the heat filling me and shake my empty cup. “Maybe we should get a refill?”
He frowns and eyes my glass. “Exactly how many have you had?”
“Not nearly enough to put up with you for the rest of the night,” I mutter.
“Fine. You can have one more.”
I roll my eyes. “Gee, thanks, Dad.”
Who died and made Carter my keeper?
This level of scrutiny is worse than my cousin’s. Usually, at some point in the evening, Noah will get preoccupied with Ashley, and then I’m free to do what I want. I have the sneaking suspicion that won’t happen with Carter. He’s going to take his job as protector a little too seriously.
Instead of arguing, we head toward the makeshift bar on the other side of the room where the keg is set up. I survey the table with every kind of hard liquor imaginable and give Carter a bit of side-eye. “I’m in the mood for a shot,” I declare.
As expected, he groans. “No shots.”
Carter isn’t much of a drinker. He sticks to beer and never has more than one or two.
“One shot,” I cajole.
“Shots are never a good idea.”
Normally, I would agree with his assessment. But I’m not inclined to agree with anything Carter has to say. He’s managed to suck all the fun out of my evening. It’s going to be awfully difficult to hookup with him in tow. I mean, I could…but that would be weird. And I have the feeling Carter would end up chasing away any guy who got too close.
Dylan is still manning the bar.
Once Carter grabs Dylan’s attention, he glances back at me. “What do you want?”
I study the selection and purse my lips. “Fireball.”
Carter nods and raises a finger. “One Fireball.”
“Two,” I cut in.
He scowls. “You are not doing two shots.”
“One for you and one for me.” I give him a look that says duh.
“I hate shots,” he grumbles.
“I know.” A smile spreads across my face. “That’s why I want you to do it.”
If he’s going to inconvenience me, I’m more than happy to do the same. Although, it’s that kind of logic which usually gets me in trouble.
“Fine.” He looks none too happy about the prospect. “Two shots of fireball. But that’s it! No more!”
“Sure, whatever you say.” I have no intention of stopping at just one. But I’m smart enough to keep that information to myself.
For the time being.
Once Dylan fills our glasses, we each grab one. I hold mine up and wait for him to do the same. “Should I give a toast?”
Carter rolls his eyes. “Sure, why not.”
Oh sweetheart, this is just the beginning. Buckle up, it’s going to be a bumpy ride.
I hold my shot glass high in the air and clear my throat. “We drink to those who love us, we drink to those who don’t, we drink to those who fuck us, and fuck the ones who don’t!”
His lips twitch. “You couldn’t just say bottoms up, huh?”
I grin. “Nope.”
We clink our plastic glasses and toss back the alcohol. I scrunch my face as the liquid burns a fiery trail down my throat.
“Delicious,” I sputter.
A cheer goes up in the other room that catches my attention.
I crane my neck to see what’s going on. “Yay, beer pong! I love that game. Come on, let’s play!”
Carter is not going to deter my fun. If he wants to sit on the sidelines and watch, that’s fine. Just don’t get in my way.
“Seriously?”
“Yup.” I give him a wide-eyed look. “Feel free to take off any time. No one is forcing you to stick by my side.”
He shakes his head. “That’s not happening, Thompson.”
I shrug and beeline for the table. Carter trails after me, never letting me get more than a few steps ahead of him. Since I recognize a few people playing, I tell them I’ll take on the winner, but need a partner.
One guy jumps to his feet. “I’ll be your—”
“Sit your ass back down.” Carter snakes an arm around me. “She has a partner.”
A new game starts, and before you know it, Carter and I hit a winning streak. But we’re still downing drinks. That’s the point of the game, right?
Concentrating, I throw the little white ball into the plastic cup. It goes right in, barely rimming the sides. I turn to Carter, jumping up and down with excitement and hold up my hand for a high five.