Page 45 of Catching Feeling

“You are ridiculous,” she says between laughs. “I can’t believe you’re actually going to do this.”

I’m definitely doing it, and I hope Reese Landry and his stupid grin and even more stupid muscles sees me up there, and I hope that he regrets finding his Playboy Bunny tonight.

Actually, I’m going to make him regret it.

“Last call for entries. I repeat, last call for entries,” the speaker booms with the last-call announcement, so I shoot Hallie a grin and turn toward the makeshift stage.

“Go get ’em, Rocky!” she yells behind me as I go.

When I get to the stage, there are several other girls waiting, of course, all in lingerie. I’m the only one actually fully clothed up here, much to the disappointment of most guys in this room, I’m sure.

“You signing up, gorgeous?” a tall blond guy with bright blue eyes asks me. He’s got the mic in one hand and a clipboard in the other. “We’re about to start.”

I nod, plastering on a smile. “Yes. I am.”

“Awesome. Here, sign this waiver here, please.” He passes the clipboard over to me, and I sign without reading. I already know the gist. There will be Jell-O and wrestling, and they’re not responsible if anyone gets hurt.

Got it.

Not worried.

Tequila plus me equals bad bitch.

Wow, do I even need Hallie right now? I’m hyping myself up. Once I take my place in line next to the other girls, Blondie turns the mic back on and faces the crowd before announcing, “Okay, ladies and gentlemen. We have our warriors. These beautiful, incredible ladies will be wrestling it out for the trophy. Even though they are all so wonderful, there can only truly be one Jell-O champion.”

The crowd erupts in cheers, clapping, and yelling as he attempts to quiet them down. My eyes search the throng of people, and I finally spot Hallie standing next to Lane… and Reese.

Seems like he ditched his new plaything.

I smirk, my eyes narrowing when he catches my gaze. His expression is unreadable, but I don’t miss the way the muscle in his jaw flexes.

Hm.

“And now, we have the lovely Vivienne Brentwood. She’s currently majoring in creative writing, loves horror movies, and could never pass up Jack’s Pizza.”

I lift my hand in a dramatic wave, and when a few guys in the front row whistle, I blow them a kiss and wink.

I’m currently feeling like a real bad bitch, so I refrain from glancing at Reese again. He can eat every bit of this up.

“First up will be Vivienne and Santana! But oh, Vivienne, you know this is a lingerie-themed party, right? Unfortunately, you’ll have to lose that dress if you’re wanting to get into the pit.”

I rack my brain to remember if I picked out a matching set today and decide that even if I didn’t, oh well.

It’s not like we’re going to be completely naked. It’s just… a little skin.

My eyes find Reese again in the crowd, and he glares back, his eyebrows raised as if to say, “Are you really about to do this?”

I lift my chin higher, reaching behind me to the zipper, and then I lose him in the crowd.

Because he’s moving. Actually, he’s pushing his way through, and not gently.

I get the zipper to the very bottom of my waist, ready to have it pool at my feet, and then he’s there, standing in front of me with a tense jaw and an expression that says I probably shouldn’t say anything right now.

Good thing I don’t give a single shit.

When he leans down to throw me over his shoulder, I bristle. “Don’t you da?—”

I’m cut off when he hoists me up and tosses me over like I weigh next to nothing. His hand holds my dress shut as he carries me off the stage, all while I’m hitting his back and demanding to be put down.

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