Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 133127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
“Brock and I have been watching House Flippers all day,” Meredith says.
My eyes widen. “Really?”
“Yes, we watched six episodes today, didn’t we, Brock?”
“We did,” he sighs.
Ben smirks over at him and I see Brock mouth the words, “Fuck off.”
For the rest of the trip, Meredith continues to explain to us all in great detail why she loves House Flippers. So much so that Ben is continually looking over and smirking at Brock who is just staring through the front windshield.
We arrive at the Ivy and climb out of the car. The boys briefed us earlier today. We are to act natural, as if we’re on a regular night out, and then we should casually throw questions to Meredith and see what information she lets slip. We need to find out if she knows about this memory stick they think that Wendy Woo had in her possession, or if she actually did see who killed Peachy Sue. Any answers are good answers.
We walk into the club and one of the doormen smiles at me, looking me up and down with hungry eyes. Brock glares at him and I feel a flutter deep in my stomach. It’s working.
Game on.
Brock, Jes, and two other men from his work are with us, standing just to the side. Ben is downstairs parking the car.
“Let’s go to the bar and gets some shots.” I smile mischievously.
“What are you going to do?” Callie whispers.
“Whatever it takes.”
We buy Meredith three shots, getting only one for ourselves as well as a round of margaritas, and then we head back to the spot where the men are standing around.
There’s a smoky glass mirror on a nearby column and it’s perfect. I can see Brock with my back to him without him even knowing it. I stand, talking to the girls, moving my hips to the beat. Every now and then, I see Brock’s eyes flick down to my behind as he watches me.
A guy walks past us and stops to say something cheeky. I laugh and put my hand on his bicep as I speak to him. I’m being way touchier than I normally would be. I mean, I have to make it believable.
I glance up to the mirror to see that Brock is glaring at me. There’s practically a red glow around him.
“Do you want to dance?” the guys asks me.
Oh, it’s a little bit early yet. Brock will be onto me. “Can we dance in an hour?” I ask. “I just got here, and I want to talk to my friends first.”
“Sure.” He smiles. “It’s a date. I’ll be back in an hour.”
Three hours later, and the three of us are on our way to being very drunk indeed. We have been talking and talking to Meredith, but I honestly don’t know if she does know anything more that can help us.
Would the call girls have told her if they knew something? I know that she hinted about a memory stick but she’s so cool and relaxed now. I don’t know if it was ever really a thing? The more that I think about it, the more I’m confused. She can’t keep a secret at all. If she had a secret, she would have blurted it out by now.
The guy from before comes back. “Do you want to dance yet?” he asks.
My eyes flicker over to Brock, and he glares at me as he sips his drink. He’s openly angry now. I’ve danced with just about everyone in the club.
I smile up at the poor, unsuspecting fool in front of me, and he puts his hand on my behind.
Eek, I don’t know about that. I don’t want to start World War Three here.
I frown when I feel a hand grab the top of my arm.
“A word?” Brock growls in my ear.
Before I know it, he’s dragging me up the corridor towards the bathroom.
I try to remove my arm from his grip. “What are you doing?”
“What the fuck are you doing?” he snaps.
“Dancing,” I answer innocently.
“I’m not fucking stupid, Tully.” He sneers.
“It’s okay, Brock, I know. We’re done with. Never going to happen. You told me. I get it.”
He lifts his chin defiantly.
“Hence why I’m going to go out there and I’m going to dance with that man, and if he wants to, I’m going to let him kiss me.”
His eyes widen. “Don’t you fucking dare!” he growls.
I step closer to him. “The thing is, Brock, I want to kiss somebody tonight.”
My eyes drop to his lips, and then back up to his eyes.
Contempt drips from his every pore, but he grabs a handful of my hair, jerking my head backwards with force, our faces nearly touching.
I moan softly at our close proximity and stare up at him.
“Don’t fucking threaten me, Tully.”
“Or what?” I whisper.
The air crackles between us and he inhales sharply. I can feel his erection up against my stomach. His eyes drop to my lips.