Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 87255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“Blakely …” Ella says.
“You can stay.”
Renn rips the blankets off him. His hair is wild, like it’s been pulled and twisted all night. He has the same melted ice cream covering his side, groin, and shoulder as I do. Aside from the bandage on his chest, there’s a red streak down his abdomen.
I glance down at my nails.
“It can’t be real,” Renn says, eyeing my brother. “Let’s all just calm down.”
“Oh, it’s real,” Ella says. “The media got a copy of the papers this morning.”
Renn’s eyes shoot open. “What?”
I sigh as a shot of pain flames behind my temples. “Can someone tell me what the hell is going on?”
“Blakely—” Ella begins.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Brock yells at me, a vein in his throat popping out. “Do you have any fucking clue what you’ve just gotten yourself into?”
“Don’t yell at my wife like that!” Renn shouts back at him.
What?
“Too soon?” Renn asks, the words leaving his lips just as Brock launches himself at Renn.
Ella grabs my arm, pulling me toward the bathroom door.
Renn sidesteps Brock as he comes hurling over the corner of the bed. Brock gets an arm hooked around Renn’s head, bringing him down with him on top of the bedside table.
Wood splits. The lamp breaks. My shirt flies across the room like a frisbee, landing on the back of the llama.
The guys fall to the floor.
I press a palm between my eyes. “Will you knock it off?”
Renn has one knee in the middle of Brock’s chest. The other is on the floor. They both pant while watching each other like they’re about to commit murder.
“I’m going to let you up, and you’re going to calm the fuck down. Got it?” Renn asks before slowly lifting himself off my brother.
Brock isn’t on his feet before he swings at Renn. Renn sees it coming and leans into it, taking the punch to the side of the head. As they collide, Renn’s face smashes against Brock’s. Blood trickles down my brother’s face.
Renn grinds his face against Brock’s. “Stop it. Do you hear me? Stop it.” With a final shove, Renn steps back.
“Do you think they’ll stop?” Ella asks.
I start to shake my head, but it hurts too much. “Nope.”
Brock’s chest heaves as he glares at Renn. Blood pours from his nose. He brings a hand to his face and then pulls it back, looking at his crimson-stained fingers.
He lifts his eyes to Renn again, letting the drips fall to the floor. “You know what?”
“What?” Renn asks, his phone ringing from somewhere behind Brock.
“Fuck you.”
Brock tackles Renn again, knocking them both to the bed. They’re too close to punch each other, thank God, and too evenly matched to do too much damage. Renn almost has Brock mounted when he throws him off. They land side by side in the middle of the bed—Brock wiping the blood off his face—and then ice cream from his chest—and Renn coughing. The entire scene is hilarious … or it would be if it made sense.
“That could’ve been hot,” Ella says, assessing the two of them.
“Really, El?”
Pillows are everywhere. The blankets are on the floor and the sheet is ripped off. The lamp on the other side of the bed, the one not broken, sits perilously close to the table’s edge.
“Are you two done?” I ask.
“I’m done if he’s done,” Renn says, gasping for breath. He turns his head toward Brock.
Brock’s chest heaves as he struggles to breathe.
They sit up. Blood and melted ice cream coat them both. A spoon is stuck to the side of Brock’s head. It falls to the mattress with a thud.
They look at one another, taking in the mess, and burst out laughing.
“Can someone please, for the love of God, explain to me what’s going on?” I ask as they get to their feet. “Why are we fighting first thing in the morning?”
Brock looks at Renn. He looks at Ella. Ella glares at them both before turning to me.
“You married Renn last night,” she says flatly.
I what?
The smile slides off Brock’s face.
I half laugh. “What? I married Renn?” My heart pounds. “No, I didn’t. What are you talking about?”
Ella hands me her phone. An article from Exposé, a tabloid that has almost transformed its image into a real news source, is on the screen.
My stomach drops.
I take the phone in my shaky hands.
A photo of Renn and me from last night—me in my silver dress and him in the Sudoku Champ hat—appears under a big, bold headline.
Breaking News: Rugby’s bad boy marries his best friend’s little sister
My gaze snaps to Renn’s.
“Blakely, I don’t know …” he says.
I go back to the article.
File this under—we didn’t see this coming.
Our sources confirm that the Tennessee Royals own Renn Brewer married friend and teammate Brock Evans’s sister last night in a surprise Vegas wedding. Witnesses say the rugby phenom and his fiancée stood in line with other couples eager to get their marriage licenses. Afterward, they made their way to King and Bling Chapel and said their I do’s. This is a developing story. We will keep you posted.