Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
She flips her phone around. I lean in, and there I am.
It’s from last night. The convent entrance. On the tiny screen, I watch Brad sway way too close to Elly, babbling the abusive shit that made my head feel like it was about to explode. And then, through the tinny phone speaker, I suddenly drawl in a sinister voice that isn’t like me, “Excuse me, friend, but you’re standing too close to my wife.”
My stomach drops, and my tongue cramps at the back of my throat.
The video cuts off right after that, but the damage is done. The caption below it reads, “NHL Voodoo player, Grammercy Graves, shows frat douche how real men treat a woman . R.I.P my ovaries,” and the comments are…numerous.
“See? You did good,” the girl says, chucking me on the shoulder with a fist. “Total positive masculinity, you know?”
“Yeah,” I mutter.
But I do not know. I know absolutely nothing right now except that sometime in the past fourteen hours, I’ve become internet famous and didn’t even know it.
“How many views does that have?” Parker asks, leaning over my shoulder.
The girl glances down. “Um, this version, like…three million? But your team account shared it, too.” She frowns as she glances between us. “You guys should set up an alert for your names on your phones.”
Shit. My phone.
I’m pretty sure it’s still on silent from before I went into the jazz club last night. I was so distracted by everything going on with me and Elly, I don’t think I ever turned it back on.
“Excuse me, I need to…” I stumble toward the counter, the only place where people aren’t staring. “I should probably—”
I pull out my phone, and the screen lights up like a slot machine hitting a jackpot.
Five missed calls from Schwartz, my agent.
Two texts from Nix.
Two from my brother.
One from Blue.
Four from Torrance.
And…so many from my mother.
Fuck.
The texts are a shit storm tsunami.
Grant: Well, well, well…you’re making a splash in your first hometown season, little brother.
Grant: If our mama is as shocked by this news as I am, you can kiss you ass goodbye. Call me. We clearly need to talk.
Schwartz: Call me. NOW.
Schwartz: I’m serious, Grammercy. There’s no such thing as the weekend when you’re at this level. We have to move on this. Now.
Torrance: BRO, you’re TikTok famous!
Torrance: Also, Coach wants to talk to me on Monday about social media guidelines. Guess he doesn’t think I should have shared that, but whatever.
Torrance: The team PR account shared it like 15 minutes later.
Torrance: Also, you should NOT be keeping that BAE on the down-low. Girl is FINE as hell.
Nix: Saw the video. Nice work. That punk had it coming.
Blue:
Nix: Also, I KNEW you were crushing on that server at the party, but WTF man. You should have told me you two were fucking dating or MARRIED or whatever. That’s weird. Why are you weird?
Beanie: GRAMMERCY GERMAINE GRAVES, call your mama. Right now. We need to TALK. And you know exactly why, don’t even pretend you don’t.
Beanie: That looks like Elly in the video. I’m at brunch and don’t have my glasses, but sure as heck looks like her. It had better be her. If this is some OTHER mystery woman, you just bought yourself a one-way ticket to an intervention.
Beanie: All right, Adelaide showed me the video again on her iPad. That’s definitely Elly. Which is a relief. But what the actual hell, cher?
Beanie: When did you two get MARRIED? I thought you JUST moved in together? And what does Mimi think about all this? You’re going to give that sweet baby whiplash. I just met this girl LAST WEEK.
Beanie: I thought moving in together was rushing things. Is that why you didn’t mention that Elly’s already my DAUGHTER-IN-LAW?! Since when do you lie to me, bébé? I thought we had a different kind of relationship than that. I thought we had trust.
Beanie: Now, I have high blood pressure! For the first time in my life! And I need wine at one in the afternoon.
Beanie: Adelaide just ordered wine. We’re going to have mimosas and embrace the fact that our children are fully grown and capable of cleaning up their own messes. But we WILL discuss this. SOON.
Beanie: And, of course, I’m not saying Elly and Mimi are messes. They seem sweet, and if they end up being family, I’ll love them hard and tight, the way we do. BUT YOU STILL SHOULD HAVE TOLD YOUR MOTHER YOU WERE MARRIED. I AM IRRITATED, MY BOY. AND SOON, I WILL BE DRUNK IN THE AFTERNOON.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I mutter, pressing a fist to my chest, above where my heart is slamming faster and faster.
“Yikes. Beanie is pissed,” Parker says over my shoulder, making me flinch.
“Shit, you scared me,” I say, my breath rushing out.
“Don’t freak out, dude, it’s going to be okay,” College Girl says, waving as she gathers her things and heads for the door. “Sorry to ruin your coffee date, but seriously, we Stan a protective king. Keep that energy. Just like…get a social media manager if you’re too old to keep up with it or whatever. You can afford it, and you obviously need some help.”