“Not at all, Miss.”
“I cannot wait until Reese finds out about this. That prick is going to get the ass-beating of the century,” Joey says, taking a champagne bottle from Brooke. She hands Juls and me ours after opening them.
“Reese isn’t finding out about his,” I inform him after taking a swig. I glance between the three pairs of eyes on me, all filled with concern. “I mean it. This account he and Ian have with Bryce is important enough for Reese to put aside his hate for that asshole and actually work with him. If we say anything, he’ll drop the account for sure, and most likely go to prison for murder. He doesn’t need to know. Nothing happened.”
Juls taps her free hand nervously on her knee. “Shit. That account is huge. Ian said it’s the biggest one their company has taken on. They’re going to make an insane amount of money off it.”
“Who gives a shit about the money?” Joey asks with a clipped tone. “That prick seriously crossed the line, and Reese needs to know about it.”
“Joey, please, let it go.” My voice is firm and final. I can’t have Reese finding out about this; he will surely go homicidal on Bryce’s ass. And it really wasn’t that big a deal, so there’s no reason to involve him. Nothing happened.
“Fine. Whatever.” Joey tips his bottle back, taking several loud chugs. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand when he finishes. “How many bottles are in there, Brooke?”
Brooke opens the cabinet and ducks her head inside. “A lot. It’s fully stocked.”
“Good,” he says.
“Good,” Juls echoes.
“Fucking great,” Brooke adds.
I take a massive drink, letting the alcohol burn away the memory of those sinister, yellow eyes.
Each and every bottle that the limo came stocked with is emptied, and the mood inside the vehicle elevates with each sip taken. There’s dancing, laughing, and Brooke, who cracks us up with her recount of the face shot heard round the world. When we’re all fully tipsy, giggling loudly in the back and falling all over each other, the limo comes to a stop.
“Oh, my God. This was so much fun,” I choke out, wiping underneath my eyes. I am way past the point of tipsy, as is everyone else in the vehicle.
“Brooke, you are fabulous. Any time you want to come out with us, feel free,” Joey slurs out. “That cum-shot story won me over.”
She smiles up at him, pushing her curly brown hair out of her face. “Even though my eye is still slightly blurry, that guy can come at me any time. He was smoking hot.” Slapping her hand over her mouth, she spits out a laugh. “Psst! Get it? Come at me!”
Hysterical laughter fills the limo as the door opens, prompting Brooke and Juls to climb off the floor they had slid onto sometime during our joy ride.
“If you still want a bed, Brooke, you can share ours,” Joey says as he crawls along the seat to the open door. “But I’m sleeping in the middle. Nobody touches my baby.”
Brooke’s mouth drops open. “Really? We get to snuggle?”
Juls and I both gawk at each other in complete shock. Joey must be out-of-his-mind drunk to have offered that. I smile at Juls and motion for her to let this one play out. The morning after should be quite interesting to say the least.
We all file out, everyone’s laughter fading into the air as they step out of the car. I steady myself on my feet, grabbing Joey’s arm for stability, and lift my head toward the front door of our house. Ian and Billy are both sitting on the stairs, grinning amusingly in the direction of the four of us. But I don’t linger on them. I can’t, because Reese’s frame is filling the doorway; his very tense frame. As my eyes focus on his face, the hard lines, the tight jaw, and those eyes of his that are heavy with disapproval, I’m quickly reminded of my wardrobe selection for the evening and the reaction I knew I’d get. What were my thoughts earlier? This is my bachelorette party. I’m supposed to look sinful.
Dylan Sparks. You asked for it.