“Thanks, Mom.” I lift my arm up in a wave.
“Lazy fucker,” he mutters.
I groan, rolling over in pain as something hits me in the balls. “What the fuck was that for?” I wheeze as my balls throb.
“I’m not your mother, asshole. Someday you’re going to have to learn to clean up after yourself.”
“That’s what our maid is for.” Lifting my head, I shoot him a murderous glare. “I’m going to get you back for this.”
He grabs my suit, hanging it in the closet before flipping me off, grinning like an idiot. “Night, fucker. Try not to cream your pants again tonight.”
“Oh, fuck off. It was one time. It felt real!”
He laughs and laughs, making me want to get up and kick his ass.
I don’t, though, because I’m too comfortable. I don’t even want to change out of my clothes.
But that, I do. Struggling to get my jeans and shirt off, I leave my boxers and socks on and grab the blanket, rolling myself like a burrito, not bothering to get under it.
I’m going to try to make the best of this trip. Eat good food, see a show, and do some sightseeing. It’s an event in LA, so I’m sure it will be a lot better than the other one we went to in Boston.
Here’s to hoping tomorrow night is worth the hours I’ll never get back.
Chapter 7
Addison
“Mom. Would you stop it? It looks fine.” I swat at her hand as she tries to mess with my hair for the fifth time since the hairstylist left.
“Fineisn’t what I paid her for.” She huffs, reaching over to try again. I step back, tripping over my dress.
My eyes widen, arms flailing as I start to fall to the ground. Before I hit the hard marble, two large arms scoop me up.
“Careful.” Damien’s gruff voice has my panicked eyes darting up to meet his face.
He steadies me on my feet, my heart racing. “Thanks.” I smooth my dress down.
“Your hair!” My mother wails. “It’s ruined.”
“Oh, for fucks sake.” I snap. “Who gives a fuck about my hair!?” Using both hands, I run them through my hair, messing it all up.
My mother gasps, staring at me in horror.
“There,” I huff. “Perfect.”
“You little–” My mother’s face turns red. She takes a step forward, probably to slap me, but Damien steps between us.
“Addie needs to get going, Eloise. I just saw a limo pull up,” Damien practically growls.
“But–”
“Come on, Addie, I’ll walk you out.” He takes me by the arm, leading me toward the front door.
“Your heels!” My mom calls after me.
“My heels can go to hell!” I shout back. “They’re going to make me break my fucking neck.” I lower my voice for this next part. “Like I want to break yours.”
I swear I hear Damien chuckle, but it’s so quick I could be mistaken.
