AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Told you.” He gave me a self-satisfied smirk, popping the hush puppy into his mouth. Watching his strong jaw work was almost as delicious as the shrimp roll.
I learned two very important things over shrimp rolls and hush puppies that evening. First, you should never judge a seafood place by its run-down exterior, and second, Holden and I weren’t as different we appeared.
30
“WHAT?” Max screamed directly into my ear. “DID YOU SAY YOU NEED TO SHIT?”
I slapped my hand over her mouth, hoping the loud drum of the bass had drowned out her words.
“No,” I hissed, trying not to slur my words. “I said ‘oh my God, I need to sit.’”
She nodded, raising a hand to remove mine.
“That makes more sense.” She pivoted to look at the balcony. “We could go back up there...”
Her words trailed off as we both looked up toward where Skye had rented a VIP room at the trendiest club in Savannah for Sissy’s bridal party. A VIP room that was currently packed with B-list influencers and half the players of Savannah’s minor league baseball team, the Peaches.
I sighed, the throbbing in my feet echoing in my head. “We have to go back up there sometime.” I threw back the shot in my hand, teetering unsteadily on my heels and trying not to gag. The vodka burned all the way down. “This stuff is terrible.”
My tongue felt heavy and clunky in my mouth, and I had to blink a few times to right the spinning room. I tried squinting until there was only one Max standing in front of me.
Max downed her shot like a pro, slamming the empty glass onto the bar. The clank was barely audible over the music. Her alcohol tolerance was truly unparalleled. If any of my senses hadn’t currently been either drunk or overwhelmed, I’d have been jealous.
“Let’s go,” she said on a sigh, looping her arm through mine for solidarity, and to make sure I didn’t wind up as a champagne-colored puddle on the floor.
The fact that Max was dreading the prospect of being in a small room with an entire baseball team was a pretty good sign that this party was about as fun as root canal without Novocain.
It had started out promisingly enough. Skye’s dad had let her use his “miniyacht” for the day; the sun was shining and a pleasant breeze was blowing off the Atlantic. There were six girls total on the boat — all of us wearing champagne-colored bathing suits, as instructed — but Max and I might as well have been alone. Not that we minded. The other four spent most of the boat ride posing for pictures or videos to post to their socials, while Max and I lay on the couches at the bow of the yacht listening to music and sipping on mimosas.
The theme of the bachelorette party was “champagne,” because of course it was. Everyone had to wear the champagne-colored bathing suits for the boat portion, then change into champagne-colored dresses, which had to hit above the knee. The boat had a champagne fountain, which Max and I used to make our mimosas after rummaging through the yacht’s kitchen for some orange juice. Thankfully, the influencers were too busy with their photo shoot to notice our contraband yellow drinks.
We’d had a great afternoon until one of the girls — Amber — announced that a player on the Peaches had liked her reel. The like led to a “slide into my DMs” situation, and the next thing we knew, we were picking up half a minor league baseball team. It had been downhill ever since.
I tugged down the edge of my dress self-consciously. The stairs were the slatted kind that would give everyone a great view up our skirts.
“Do you know what? This staircase was designed by preeeverts,” I pointed out, trying not to slur my words.
“I think the word you’re looking for there is ‘pervert,’ but yeah, it’s definitely giving everyone an eyeful.” Max craned her neck up and let loose a groan. “That last shot might have been a bad idea.”
“On three.” I gave my head a firm shake, and instantly regretted the motion.
“One, two,three!” We counted together, taking one step on “three” and leaning heavily on each other. Max might have been drunker than she appeared, but somehow we made it to the top of the staircase without incident. We paused to adjust our dresses and catch our breath before walking down the dimly lit hall to the large VIP room.
We stopped in our tracks as soon as the security guard opened the sliding door that gave the room some privacy from the peasants on the ground floor. When the door was open, the room’s occupants could spill out onto the small balcony and look down at all the people who couldn’t afford bottle service. Naturally, Sissy loved it.
Skye was being bench-pressed by one of the players, whose name was either Bryce or Bryant; Amber was in the process of doing shots with two players that involved way more mouth-to-mouth contact than I thought strictly necessary; Sissy was sitting on the lap of one of the players, leaning into him like what he was saying was the most interesting thing in the world; and Zoe was straddling two of the other players, giving them a sloppy, alcohol-fueled lap dance.
“Well...” Max started, at a loss for words.
I stormed past her, heading directly to the chair where Sissy was cozying up to a man who was not her fiancé.
“Sissy!” I plastered a smile on my face, while letting my eyes land on his hand, which rested so high up on her thigh that his fingers were dangerously close to creeping under the hem of her dress.
Sissy laughed, rolling her eyes and adjusting her position so she could face me.
“Don’t be dramatic, Sutton, we’re just talking. Trevor’s telling me all about his plans to make it to the major leagues.”
“That’s right, babe. You’ll be seeing my name on the big screen by the end of the year, guaranteed,” Trevor confirmed. His confidence might have been admirable if he hadn’t been groping a woman sporting an impressive diamond ring on her left finger.
