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“Kyle Steele? Honestly, Mother? His father is a porn star.”
She raises an eyebrow, the perfected annoyance drawing her wrinkle-free face tight. “And that should tell you everything that you need to know.”
How it’s even possible for her to think a douche like Kyle is better than Flynn Coleman is beyond me.
“Blairs don’t sleep with the help.” Her eyes dart toward my stepfather as if he needs the reminder as well.
And that clears up the suspicions about Beverly, the twenty-something woman that only worked here for a brief time. Seems the perfect happy couple isn’t so happy after all. I wonder what they paid her to keep her mouth shut as I look at my mom, considering the chance I could threaten to spill the family tea publicly to get my own chunk of cash. It would make leaving this damn house a lot easier, that’s for sure.
“Have a good day,” I tell them with a smile as I desert the coffee cup on the counter and walk away.
You’d think such a conversation would put me in a foul mood, but I expect nothing less from them. Hate begins to brew in my gut, but I’m still floating on air. They didn’t mention my birthday, but that’s the norm around here. What I do know is that they may be around for a day, two tops, before they leave again. Flynn and I will have the entire house to ourselves again after tonight. My parents will leave, and his guys will go back to St. Louis.
Instead of dwelling on my mother’s insults and assumptions, I glide up the stairs and into my room, a full day of preparations ahead of me.
I can’t wait for Flynn to see me in my dress.
***
The high I was riding all day crashed like a coke user coming down from a three-day bender.
The smile I was anticipating on Flynn’s lips was more of a scowl.
Inside the limo on the way to the club, he keeps his eyes out the window and his thoughts to himself.
I resisted kissing him in the foyer when we met up to leave. I didn’t want to put him on the spot in front of his friends, but as time drags on, I’m beginning to doubt myself and the time we spent together last night.
I still have plans. What I told him at the waxing appointment was true. Our night will end with us fully coming together. It may be the first time I’ve ever done it—a little omission I still have no intention on telling him—but it’s looking like it may be another battle to get us there.
It’s a good thing I’m determined to get what I want—what we both want—because even with the frown in place when he saw me, the front of his pants tightened. He liked what he saw whether he wants to admit it out loud or not.
“Are you going to dance with the birthday girl tonight?”
Flynn answers Ignacio’s question with a grumble too low to decipher.
“I hope you’ll save a dance for me?”
This gets his attention, and I watch Flynn as he turns his head to glare at Brooks Morgan.
“And one for me,” Finnegan insists, his Scottish brogue thick and sexy.
“I’m sure Remington would much rather spend her time dancing with her friends than spending any amount of time with you assholes.”
The limo fills with masculine laughter at Flynn’s declaration, pulling a grin from my lips as well.
“Is that true?” Quinten asks. He’s the one man in the group that makes me cower a little, and I think it’s the thick beard and all the tattoos down his arms that intimidate me so much. “Do you want to spend the night dancing with Kyle?”
Flynn growls, and the laughing starts all over again.
He curses each and every one of them under his breath as the limo slows to a stop outside of the club. Like I’m some sort of precious jewel, all of the men file out and encircle me as the paparazzi try to push in and get photos of me. I know they’re all going to stick around, each one waiting for me to get stupid drunk and give them something worthy of a lot of money once sold to TMZ or some lesser celebrity news outlet.
Thankfully, protocol has been put in place that will prevent any of them from getting inside, not that I have any intention to give them something to photograph. I would’ve canceled tonight if my parents weren’t home. I’d much rather spend the night wrapped up in Flynn, but I did want him to see me in this dress.
Flynn presses his hand to my lower back, urging me to walk toward the entrance, nodding at the bouncer in gratitude when he holds the door open for my entourage of sexy men.
