It feels good to put on a nice outfit, do my hair and makeup, and look in the mirror feeling good about myself. Of course, there’s times when I look in the mirror and hate the way I look. Nonetheless, I always try to be positive about my looks.
The more confidence you exude, the more people you attract. Even if you’re not feeling all that confident, fake it until you make it, baby. That’s my mantra.
Taking a step back, I look over myself from head to toe.
Of course Holland chose the same club to bring Ryker to. Of freaking course. He just has to ruin everything. I know there wasn’t a ton of planning on my part, and this was kind of a last-minute decision, but what are the odds.
Out of all the clubs downtown, including the string of nightclubs Holland and the other guys now own, he chooses Flux? The one club I didn’t expect he’d choose.
How can we have a bachelorette party when the groom is sitting with us? This is supposed to be Gwen’s night. We were supposed to get shit-faced and dance and scream and vent.
Now we’re stuck with the guys for the night. It doesn’t even feel like a bachelorette anymore. It just feels like our normal club nights.
I don’t know. Maybe I’m making a bigger deal out of it than it needs to be. The guys don’t seem too bothered that we crashed their party, and Ellie, Haley, and Gwen seem fine with joining them.
Maybe I just need to take a breath and have fun. We’re still at the club together after all and I’m still pissed about it.
I don’t know how long I’ve been in here, but I decide it’s probably best if I go back to the table before reinforcements are sent in to make sure I didn’t drown in a toilet.
Taking a deep breath, I look over myself one more time in the mirror before walking out of the bathroom and straight into a hard body.
Looking up, I find that the hard body belongs to none other than the guy I came in here to escape.
Being this close to him after the show I put on in his bedroom is causing a million butterflies to flutter in my stomach. When I saw him sitting there in that booth in his black, plain t-shirt with his muscles and his perfect jaw line, I swear to God I felt like the air had been sucked out of me.
I know he’s hot, I’ve known that. Yet, I’ve never thought about fucking his brains out, and after what happened between us the other night, I can’t stop thinking about it.
I tried my best to seem unaffected by him and by what I was doing. I didn’t want him to know that by attempting to tease him and turn him on, I was getting turned on too.
When I got home, I had to use my vibrator to release the tension I was feeling after rubbing up against him for so long.
I mean, the guy is seriously sex personified. I don’t know when it happened or how, but I am starting to see Holland Monroe as more than just my best friend’s twin brother or the annoying boy next door.
Somehow, he’s turned into this man with these muscles and this deep, sexy voice that for some reason makes me want to take all of my clothes off and jump him.
Holland’s eyes roam up and down my body once before settling on my face. A small smirk forms on his lips, and I just know he’s about to say something that’ll piss me off.
“You should watch where you’re going, Bug,” he says in a taunting tone. I scowl at him, crossing my arms over my chest. Holland’s eyes dart down to the ample amount of cleavage that is now noticeable.
“You shouldn’t be in my way, Ball Boy,” I shoot back. The smirk on his face grows wider.
“Ball Boy? That’s a new one. Why Ball Boy?”
I shrug, because honestly, I don’t know where that came from. It kind of popped into my head, and I just said it.
“I don’t know. You play a sport with a ball. It makes sense,” I explain. Holland chuckles, and it makes me want to laugh too. It is a ridiculous nickname, and a terrible logic.
“I play a sport with a ball, yes,” Holland nods, and I can tell he’s trying really hard not to burst out laughing. I don’t know whether to be pissed off or amused.
I decide to go back to being pissed when I remember where we are.
“Why are you here?” I ask. Holland gives me a bewildered look, as if he has no idea why I would ask such a question.
“I was here first,” he shrugs nonchalantly. Shaking my head, I glare at him.
“I don’t mean why are you here at the club, I mean why are you standing outside of the bathroom waiting for me like a stalker?” I bite out. A laugh bursts out of him, startling and confusing me all at once. What was funny?
“Stalker? Seriously, Lainey Bug, that’s a bit dramatic. Maybe I had to pee. You know, that’s normally why people go to the restroom.”
