Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 128417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
“Atta boy,” Reed says.
I’m peeking at the group from behind my hands, afraid to come out. My eyes drift to Henn again and he makes a face that tells me he feels my pain.
“Hey, Stubborn Kat,” Josh says. “Why don’t you tell the group all of your amazing rules. Enlighten us. Amaze us with what a hip whippersnapper you are.”
“I believe a hip whippersnapper’s actually called a ‘hippersnapper,’” Will says.
Everyone at the table (except for me) laughs. I can’t stop hiding behind my hands. This is sheer pain right here.
“Aw, come on, babe. ‘You don’t make The Rules, you just enforce ’em.’ Remember?”
I shake my head. “There’s no way I’m making any declarations about what’s cool and what’s not in this crowd. Every man at this table could tattoo Bert and Ernie onto his forehead and make it look cool,” I say.
Will picks up his napkin and rubs it forcefully against his forehead. “Well, I guess now would be the time to remove this makeup on my forehead and show you...”
Everyone laughs, yet again.
“You’re not gonna enlighten us about all The Rules for Being Cool, Stubborn Kat?” Josh asks.
I shake my head.
“She’s normally not so shy, I swear,” he says.
“Come on, Stubborn Kat,” Will says. “What else is on the list? We’ve got dragons, YOLO, girlfriends that didn’t work out, and what? I’ve got two so far—I’m hoping to rack up some more points before the night is over.”
I put my head on the table and bury my head with my arms. “Make it stop,” I mumble.
Will laughs.
“Come on, guys,” Henn says. “Make fun of me for a while, as usual. How ’bout I dance for you?”
“Oh, yeah. Let’s make Henny dance—my favorite thing!” Reed says, suddenly giddy. He bangs on the table. “Dance puppet-boy, dance!”
Henn grumbles.
“We’ll definitely have to hit my club after dinner.”
Everyone agrees.
“But back to Kat’s list,” Will says. “Come on. What else is on it, Stubborn Kat? I bet I’ve got at least some of the stuff on the list, whatever it is.”
Josh grabs my hand and kisses it. “You’re not gonna tell him?”
I shake my head. “I’m never gonna say anything about anyone’s tattoos ever again, as long as I live.”
Josh grins and looks at Will. “Barbed wire on your bicep—or a tribal band, unless you’re an Islander. Stubborn Kat was very specific about that. You got either of those, man?”
“Fuck no. I agree with Stubborn Kat on both. And yet, right now, I wish so bad I had both so I could pull up my sleeve and see the look on her face.”
Everyone laughs at the thought, even me.
“Me, too,” Josh says, squeezing my hand. “I never thought I’d be bummed not to have barbed wire.”
“Hey, it’s never too late, Faraday,” Reed says, laughing. “We’re in Vegas, after all.”
“There you go again, Reed,” Josh says. “Trying to get me inked with something stupid.” He sips his drink. “Well, lucky for me, I’m not gonna get drunk tonight, or I’d probably do it.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” Henn says. “Barbed wire would be too stupid even for you, Josh.”
“Bite your tongue,” Josh says. “There’s no such thing as a tattoo that’s ‘too stupid’ for Josh Faraday—not if you ply me with enough alcohol and double-dare me, anyway.”
“Oh, we know, Mr. ‘Welcome to the Gun Show,’” Reed says.
Josh, Henn, and Reed burst out laughing.
“‘I double-dare you,’” Reed says, apparently re-enacting something—and all three guys laugh again, shaking their heads.
“You’re a Neanderthal, Josh,” Henn says.
Josh sips his drink happily. “I really am.”
“I take it you’ve got a tattoo that says ‘Welcome to the Gun Show’?” Will asks, incredulous.
Josh nods.
“On your arms, presumably?”
Josh nods again.
“Oh shit. Horrible. That’s gotta be on Kat’s list, too, right? Please tell me it is. That’s gotta be double points.”
Josh shakes his head. “Surprisingly, not on the list. Too horrible to even mention, I suppose. Right, Kat? Some tattoos are too stupid to make the list?”
My face is hot. “Please make it stop,” I say.
Josh squeezes my hand and kisses the side of my head. “All in good fun, baby,” he whispers to me. “This is how we show we like you.” He squeezes my hand again.
“Well, dude, aren’t you gonna show me?” Will says.
“Show him,” Reed says.
Josh shrugs, unbuttons his shirt, and pulls it down off his shoulders, revealing his muscled, tattooed chest and the tops of his gorgeous arms—and the sight of him makes my crotch instantly start filling with blood.
Josh bends his arms behind his head and flexes and everyone at the table bursts into laughter at the sight of the tattoos on the undersides of his biceps.
“Welcome to... the Gun Show,” Reed says, pointing out Josh’s tattoos like he’s Vanna White on Wheel of Fortune. “That was the night I learned Josh Faraday will do literally anything to get a laugh.”
I’ve gone back into hiding behind my hands, partly because the sight of Josh baring his body in this restaurant is making me want to jump his bones and partly because I feel like I’m gonna barf.