Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 121916 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121916 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Holy shit.
Here we go.
The band has now cycled through the lead-up for a second time. The cue for Kendrick’s line is imminent.
But no.
This time, it’s Kendrick who makes the “one more time around” signal to the band, which causes the entire crowd to explode even more, especially when Kendrick starts using the extra time to remove some of his pesky clothes while gyrating sexually, like a seasoned male stripper, at center stage.
Off goes Kendrick’s jacket first.
And then, the shirt that made his muscles look mouthwatering.
Until, finally, he’s standing before the rabid crowd, shirtless, his tattoos and muscles on full display, his smile wide and wicked.
I don’t know why normally humble Kendrick chose this precise moment to flaunt his jaw-dropping body and become Magic Mike. Is he drunk? Is he doing this to make Cooper, who’s around here somewhere, feel insecure about his dad bod? I mean, I personally like dad bods. But Kendrick’s body is most definitely the universal standard of beauty. Or is Kendrick just high on life and feeling like a rockstar after that press conference earlier today? Whatever’s inspired him to strip off the top half of his clothes, it’s very clear I’m not alone in feeling endlessly grateful for it.
Kendrick raises his muscular arms in victory, making the party scream even louder. But then, as he lowers them, his gaze lands on me in the packed crowd. He shoots me a smolder that’s so sexual, so intense, so brazen, it instantly turns on the bundle of nerves between my legs, like flipping on a light switch.
Just like that, I feel like I’m physically vibrating with lust for Kendrick Cook. My best friend forever. The boy I’ve convinced myself couldn’t possibly be mine, ever, because he’d never wanted me back, anyway.
Breathing hard, I try to take a mental picture of every detail of Kendrick in this glorious, panty-melting moment, since we all had to check our phones at the door. And as I’m doing that, Kendrick strides to the microphone, clearly getting himself ready to deliver Savage’s famous closing line as the band barrels ahead, a third time, toward his cue. Talk about blue balls. After all this edging, I’m sure everyone in this party’s got ’em.
As I watch Kendrick in heart-pounding anticipation, he places one of his big palms on the mic and the other flat against his rock-hard abs, and with his blazing blue eyes still trained on me, he leans in and delivers the famous, spoken line we’ve all been waiting for on the edge of our proverbial seats. Except, to everyone’s extreme thrill, Kendrick changes one all-important word.
“Did Cooper make you come three times?” Kendrick asks, replacing the word “he” with Cooper’s name. Not only that, he delivers the famous line in a far more combative tone than Savage on the recording, which only adds to the delicious electricity of the moment.
With Kendrick’s eyes trained on me, I shake my head in reply with enthusiasm, causing the whole party to explode around me. Clearly, they were watching and waiting with bated breath for my reply, and I delivered a home run.
“Yeah, didn’t think so,” Kendrick replies, delivering the next words of the song, exactly as recorded. But once again, his tone feels far more aggressive than Savage’s. Hostile, I’d even say. Indeed, thanks to Kendrick’s unique interpretation of the line, his words feel fresh and new, like Kendrick himself, rather than Savage, wrote them specifically about Cooper Constantino and me.
Behind Kendrick, C-Bomb bangs out three crashing beats on his toms to end the performance, and as that happens, Kendrick’s gaze shifts from me to another precise spot in the packed crowd, at which point he raises double middle fingers with a hard, intense scowl aimed at his target.
Holy shit.
I follow Kendrick’s gaze to the recipient of that double “fuck you,” and not surprisingly, he’s delivered his aggressive hand signal to Cooper with his full chest.
In a flash, Cooper hard-charges the stage, heading straight for Kendrick. But since this is a Reed Rivers party, and the place is filled with megastars, security is everywhere. Which means Cooper never gets close enough to the stage to do whatever testosterone-fueled thing his ape brain is directing him to do. On the contrary, in a heartbeat, Cooper is surrounded and escorted off the packed dance floor by three men dressed in black suits, while Kendrick, and all the men onstage with him, laugh and mockingly wave “bye bye” to him below them.
When Cooper’s out the door and presumably led somewhere to take a break and simmer down, Kendrick returns to the mic. To the band behind him, he shouts, “Awesome job, guys! C-Bomb, you’re going to put me out of a job, man. That was better than my version.” As the musicians behind Kendrick variously salute him and wave to the crowd, and then start exiting the stage, Kendrick returns to the mic with a wide smile and shouts to the rabid crowd, “I’m gonna play drums now. Cool with you?”