Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
I grip his shoulder. “Dude, you have to pretend to be fine. Denver’s doing this whole sober living thing, and the rest of us promised to not drink in front of him.”
“Wait … when did I promise that?”
“Not you and me—the rest of Eleven.”
Jordan chuckles. “You were in a boy band.”
“Am. I am in a boy band.”
He throws his arm around my shoulder. “Nah. You’re too …” He rubs his hand over the blond scruff on my chin. “Man-like to be in a boy band. You’re in a man band!”
“Jesus H. Christ, Mason’s gonna kill me. Let’s try to sneak through the house and get you out to the guesthouse where you can sleep it off.”
“It’s not bedtime. The sun is still out.”
“Do you always act like a child when you’re drunk?”
“Always.”
“Note to self, don’t go drinking with Jordan ever again.”
His phone starts ringing, and he goes to take it out of his pocket, but I stop him.
“You can’t talk to anyone in your condition. Especially if it’s someone from the media.”
He pulls out of my grip and takes his phone out of his pocket. “It’s not. It’s my friends! Guess what?” Jordan yells. He has stopped now, halfway between the street and Denver’s front door, holding his phone out in front of him, like he’s on a video call.
“Are you okay?” the voice asks.
“I’m staying with a man band.”
“Are … are you drunk?”
I lean in so the guy on the phone can see me. “Yes, he is.”
Jordan’s friend has dark hair over his forehead and has tattoos up the wazoo.
“Is that …” The guy squints.
“Man band.” Jordan nods.
“Holy shit!”
Jordan winces. “Not so loud, Ash.”
“Babe, babe … Max, get in here.” Another guy appears on the screen. He’s about three times Ash’s size and also covered in tats. “It’s Blake Monroe,” Ash says.
I give them a wave. “I need to get Jordan inside, but I’m finding out he distracts easily when he’s drunk. Do either of you know how to handle him?”
They look at each other and share a weird look I can’t decipher.
“Uh, promise him sex?” Ash says.
Jordan’s head darts around. “Sex? Where?”
Ash’s partner mutters, “So predictable.”
I try it anyway. “Umm, there’s sex inside.”
“Where? With who?” Hey, at least his feet are moving now.
“Thank you,” I say to the two on the phone and then guide Jordan inside.
“We, uh, saw the news,” Ash says.
I look around each corner to make sure Denver and Mason aren’t around and try to sneak through to the back door that leads to the guesthouse.
“Ben’s an ass,” Jordan says solemnly. “I wish that dude bit his dick right off.”
We don’t make it far inside when Denver’s voice comes from behind us. “What dude?”
We both freeze.
Please, for the love of everything wrong with this world, I need Jordan to act sober.
“Hey, Denver.” I smile wide. “Umm, you know Jordan Brooks. I mean, of course you do. We all met in that club at the same time. This is … Jordan. Umm, yeah. I already said that.”
“Is that Denver Smith?” Ash screeches from the phone.
“Who knew you were such a boy band fan,” Max says.
“Man band,” Jordan corrects in a very serious manner.
I ignore them. “Jordan needs a place to hide out from the paparazzi. He and Benjamin Randt just had a very public breakup.”
“It included road head and a car crash.” Jordan smashes his hands together and makes an explosion sound, but he’s still holding his phone, so that goes flying to the floor.
I pick it up. “I might get him to call you guys back when he’s sober.”
Ash looks more concerned. “Look after him for us.”
“Will do.” I end their call, and Jordan is none the wiser. I think he forgot he was even talking to them.
“Sorry,” I say to Denver. “I was trying to sneak him through unnoticed.”
“It’s totally fine. He can stay here as long as he needs to.”
“I meant, I wouldn’t have brought him here, like …” I gesture to Jordan. “This.”
“Just because I’m not allowed to drink, that doesn’t mean other people aren’t. I’m cool with it.” He says that, but he seems so blasé about the whole alcoholic thing that maybe I don’t understand it completely. “Seriously,” Denver says. “Drinking is a crutch for me when something bad is happening in my life, and I couldn’t be happier.”
Mason walks in at precisely the right moment to hear that and wraps his arms around Denver and kisses the top of his head.
It’s funny to me that we all worked together for seven years when nothing was going on between them, but seeing them as a couple is the most natural thing in the world. It’s as if they were this affectionate the whole time. It was weird seeing it at first, but now I can barely remember a time they weren’t this close.