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There’s an eclectic mix of people tonight—a handful from LA, mostly stunt guys as far as I can tell, a handful from my mother’s world, obligatory family, and anyone willing to give up a night this close to Christmas for an open bar. The place is packed and there’s a lot of uncertainty as far as betting goes.
When Lauren points out that Colton appears to be looking for me, we decide the safest course of action is to hide with the cluster at the other end of the bar.
“Twenty bucks Timbo blows up the cake.” It’s a sure bet and something he’s threatened to do for years if he ever got married.
Amanda, our family bookie, glances at me with a frown, but keys it in. “You’re a bit late to the game. Twelve other people have placed the same bet.”
I’m shrugging when I catch my name on the screen. I reach for her phone. “What’s that?”
Amanda is a lot taller than me and merely holds her phone above my head. “Top secret.”
It’s not surprising I’m on there, given my track record. At Amanda and Hazel’s wedding, I got trashed and hooked up with the DJ. The man played every single song I’d demanded all night—essentially nothing but Bananarama and some Bangles. I was going through a phase where I loved all the music Mom subjected me to as a child. It was awesome.
I jump but fall short. “What’s the bet?”
Hazel snatches the phone from Amanda and scans the document. “Well, one of those is a sure thing.”
One of those. I’m on there more than once.
“Tell me.”
“Against the rules.” Amanda drops her phone into her purse.
“There are no rules.” Loopholes exist for everything. Negotiations over what constitutes a win could take days to resolve. “Tell me.”
Hazel laughs. “Timothy has money on you punching out Colton Craig before the end of the night. I’m only telling you because I want to see you do it. Did you hear him abusing that waiter?”
I hadn’t, but he is that asshole. If I thought for two seconds I wouldn’t swing and miss, I might consider helping Timothy win some money.
“What else?” I demand.
The group goes silent, but the look on Lauren’s face is pure guilt. Her freckles are in danger of disappearing under her blush. She knows. And she’ll cave because she always does. I turn on her. “Tell me and I’ll introduce you to that hot accountant at work.” The one she’s too shy to talk to but has spent a lot of time undressing with her eyes.
She hesitates. “There’s a lot of money on you and Nic hooking up before midnight.”
“Lauren.” Amanda glares.
“Names,” I demand, ignoring my sister.
“Oh, calm down, Jessie,” Amanda says with a huff. “You and Nic hooking up has been bet on at every family event since you both turned eighteen. The odds are usually so low and only Timothy ever makes that bet, but…”
I gasp. “You bet on it, didn’t you?”
Amanda winces.
Lauren laughs because she doesn’t have siblings and therefore, doesn’t understand my pain. “The whole family did,” she says. “Except for your mom. And you and Nic, obviously.”
My mom. Celia Foley is a fucking cockblocking shark. For a moment, I almost respect her game. She got us both dates, told no one, and she stands to rake it in tonight because I will not be hooking up with Nic.
“We saw that kiss in the hot tub,” Hazel says, fanning herself.
Dammit! What the hell had I been thinking, kissing him like that? “I have a suitcase full of vibrators. I don’t need Nic’s massive dick.” My eyes go painfully wide, my stomach leaping into my throat. “No, wait—”
Too late. Everyone is laughing at my slip.
Amanda pulls her phone back out, her eyes teasing. “Does this mean you’ve already hooked up? Was it today?”
“He’sa massive dick.” God, I sound whiny. “That’s what I meant.”
