Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
"Wait," Hope demanded, grabbing my arm. "Give me your cut," she demanded, helping me out of it, then tucking it into her bag.
I'm pretty sure I blacked out whatever happened after I made my way to that stage.
But the girls?
The girls had a front-row seat to my shitfaced attempt at karaoke.
Hope
"So, is anyone going to say it, or what?" Gracie asked as Malc started in on his song.
Fire Away by Chris Stapleton. A sad, sappy song if I'd ever heard one.
"It's like watching your parent get wasted and make a fool of themself," I said, grimacing when Malc attempted a bit of a high note, his voice warbling.
"Hey, this is therapeutic for him," Billie insisted, pressing a hand to her heart.
"Yeah, but now I'm gonna need therapy too," I said, shaking my head.
"Someone hurt him," Gracie said, shooting me a pouty lower lip at the very idea of anyone making our gentle giant feel like he needed to drown his feelings in tequila and public humiliation.
I mean, yeah, I got up there and sang too. But in a group. Where no one could tell that I, like Malcolm, was never going to grace any Top 100 charts in this lifetime.
"Who the hell would hurt him?" I grumbled, mad on principle.
Malcolm was, quite simply, one of the best men this world had to offer. Point-blank period.
He was the most generous person I knew who had the patience of a fucking saint to deal with all of us when we were horrendously drunk and more than a little obnoxious.
"I didn't even think he was, you know, dating," Gracie said, brows furrowing. "I figured all the guys were like us."
"Fucking around?" Billie asked, smirking.
"Just not serious about anyone. Or haven't found someone special yet," Gracie countered. While Billie and, objectively even I, did take a bed buddy every now and again, Gracie was one of those hopeless romantic sorts. She had her head up in the clouds because all our parents had such epic love stories. And somehow, not a single set of them were divorced. I mean, not that she was "pure and innocent" or anything, but she saved sex for relationships. And, unfortunately, she hadn't had much luck in that department yet.
"Well, he's clearly upset about someone," I said, wincing as Malc wrapped up the end of the song.
"Hey, you know who might know?" Billie said, eyes dancing, smile devilish.
Oh, I knew who she thought might know, alright.
"Billie, don't," I demanded, trying to keep an already sticky situation under control.
"Well, we need a DD, don't we?" she asked, reaching for Malc's phone. Which she knew the code to. Because, up until this very moment, Malcolm never kept secrets from us. "Hey, Rowe, this is Billie. You're never going to believe this, but, ah, Malc is trashed off his ass and singing karaoke. And we've all been drinking too. We need a ride. Yes, that's right," she agreed, smiling at us. "Karaoke. Uh-huh. Okay. Thanks!" she said, hanging up. "He's on his way."
"He's not going to tell the others, is he?" Gracie asked. "They will never let him live this down."
"There is nothing to be embarrassed about," Billie insisted. "Expressing your feelings is perfectly natural."
"You think the guys are going to think crooning out sad country songs is perfectly natural?" I shot back.
"Alright. Fair enough. This stays in the vault," she said, twisting a key over her lips.
"Hey, big guy," I greeted as Malcolm angled back, all but falling into his seat.
"...In those drinks?" he asked, slurring his words.
"A double dose of tequila," Billie said, sounding apologetic as she patted his shoulder. "It's okay, though. We are going to get you home, okay?"
"Chuck..."
"Chuckie and Tommy are at the clubhouse," I said, picking up on his fragmented conversation. "We will bring you there."
"'S good," he agreed, letting out a deep exhale as he reached for my drink.
"No no no," I said, snatching it back. "Anymore and you are going to black out. And we'd need a crane to lift you out of here."
"What happened, Malc?" Gracie asked, reaching across the table to take his giant hand.
"...Didn't want me," he said, waving a massive arm around, nearly knocking Billie across the face as he did so.
"How could somebody not want you?" Billie asked, pushing his arm back on the table, resting hers on top of it to keep it still as I flagged down the server for our bill.
"Choked," he said, shaking his head.
"You choked someone?" I asked.
"Jesus, Hope," Billie said, rolling her eyes. "This isn't work with all those lowlives. Maybe he means they were trying something fun and new in bed, and one of them wasn't into it."
"Oh my God," Gracie said, laughing, her head shaking side to side. "With the two of you. It's not always about sex and violence, you know. He choked. Like you know, blew his shot?"