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Friends with Bang-ifits (The Bangover #0.5)
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Something is rotten in the state of Denmark… Or in the state of Kirby Lawrence, a woman who is NOT attracted to her best friend, bad boy rock star, Colin Donovan. Not even a little bit!
No matter how good his butt looks in those jeans… Crap, I’m looking at his butt. Colin’s butt!
And the butterflies in my stomach are discoing now. Discoing!
I avert my eyes, but it’s too late. I have already had thoughts I shouldn’t have had, and flutters that shouldn’t have fluttered.
And I have a horrible feeling there’s no coming back from this.
No going back to the way things were before I realized that a part of me wants to climb my best buddy like a tree and make out with his sexy face…
Meet Colin and Kirby in this fun, flirty Standalone prequel to THE BANGOVER!
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From the texts of Kirby Lawrence
and Colin Donovan
Kirby: Great show. Harriett brought me backstage after. I’m outside your dressing room whenever you’re ready to roll.
Colin: Thanks. And awesome! Can’t wait to see you. Be right there.
Kirby: Um, also wondering… Is this girl out in the hallway yours?
Colin: What girl?
Kirby: Oh, thank God. I thought I was going to have to stage an intervention. She’s as dumb as a box of rocks, poor thing. Gorgeous, but she just told one of the roadies that she’d be scared to visit China because she figured it would take a while to get comfortable walking upside down. No joke.
Colin: Ouch. But the last time I checked, you don’t bang with your brain, Larry. Get her number. I’m in town for three days.
Kirby: I will not get her number. And of course you bang with your brain. If you don’t, then you’re doing it wrong. The brain is the most vital organ involved.
Colin: Except for a big dick.
Kirby: Right. Except for that. But don’t talk about the D word. Since Peter had to cancel his trip this weekend, I’m not going to see him again for two weeks. And it’s already been three, so…
Colin: Ew. Peter.
Kirby: Peter is very nice. And he has a big…brain.
Colin: Ha! I see what you did there. I’m sure he has a huge brain. But he also has a weird butt.
Kirby: You met him once, and you somehow managed to find time to check out his ass? Is there something you want to share with the class, Donovan? Is all this dating of hot, big-busted women just a cover? You realize it’s the twenty-first century, right? Rock stars can be as gay as they want to be.
Colin: If I were gay, I would be gay with someone hot. Not Pooped-His-Pants Peter.
Kirby: What a horrible name! He does not poop his pants.
Colin: It just looks like it in those awful khakis he wears?
Kirby: He’s lovely in a suit. The last time I visited him at his law firm in Boston, he looked quite fetching in a gray three-piece.
Colin: So you admit his khakis are awful?
Kirby: Subject change. How much longer are you going to be? This girl is about to hyperventilate out here.
Colin: Again, I ask, what girl?
Kirby: Just a second… Let me investigate…
Colin: You do that, Larry. I’m going to jump in the shower.
Kirby: Her name is Maria. She won a contest. She’s supposed to get your autograph and a picture with you backstage.
Colin: Oh shit. Right. Tell her I’ll be out in five. Six if I put in hair gel to get pretty.
Kirby: I’m sure she’d appreciate you pretty. I doubt all this hyperventilating is solely due to the dulcet sounds of your guitar and passable singing voice.
Colin: You love my singing voice.
Kirby: It’s okay, I guess. I like it more when it’s on time and doesn’t keep me waiting out in the cold hallway with a girl with nipples so hard she’s about to poke my eye out. It’s not easy being a short person in a tall, hard-nippled world.
Colin: I bet. You poor thing. Why don’t you take a picture of the situation for me so I can truly empathize with your plight?
Kirby: I am not taking a boob shot for you, you cad.
Colin: Ha! You know I was kidding, but I love it when you call me old-fashioned bad names.
Colin: Ooo…good one.
Colin: Hmmm…almost as good as hard nipples.
Kirby: LOL. I thought you were getting in the shower. Hurry up, or we won’t make it to Chippy’s before last call.
Colin: Chippy’s is open until two. We’ve got plenty of time. And I’m in the shower. I can do more than one thing at a time, woman.
Kirby: Standing in the water and texting me doesn’t count as more than one thing at a time. Go actually clean yourself and get out here. I need a hug. I’ve missed your stupid face.
Colin: I’ve missed your stupid face, too. See you soon,
Larry. I know you’re sad that your boy toy got snowed in, but I’m glad you’re all mine for the night. It’s been too long since we had solo friend time. I like not having to share you.
Kirby: Ditto. See you soon.
“Oh my God. So you’re his friend? For real?” The girl in the skintight red T-shirt that reads “Cookies for Santa” across the top, with two giant chocolate chip cookies positioned over her glorious mammary glands, practically starts humping my leg when I convey the message that Colin will be out soon. “So you were like…texting him?” she squeals, lashes fluttering and cheeks flushing pink beneath her honey brown skin.
“I was,” I say calmly, hoping to keep her conscious long enough to get her picture taken. “He’s sorry to keep you waiting.”
He didn’t say that, of course, but I’m sure he is. I’ve known Colin since we were freshmen in high school, and he’s still the same thoughtful, conscientious person he was back then.