Page 9 of Rating the Book Boyfriend

As soon as that last word passes my lips, my stomach does a backflip, and I slam my hand over my mouth.Oh shit!Scrambling from the bed, I sprint to the bathroom, wobbling a little until I fall to my knees in front of the toilet.

I lean against the cool wall and watch as Gemma enters the room, looking more disheveled than I’ve ever seen her. Her silky top is mis-buttoned, and for some reason, she’s wearing Ava’s floral shorts, one thigh-high stocking, and some kind of odd belt. Dark strands stick out of a raggedy bun on one side of her head, and the other half of her hair is fashioned in a french braid.

“You done calling Uncle Ralph?” she asks, wetting a white washcloth and handing it to me.

I wipe my face and nod. “Are you feeling sick?”

Gem’s face crunches into a look of misery. “Yes, but I’m trying to hold it in.”

Pressing the cloth against the back of my neck, I say, “Get it over with. I feel better already, and you look like shit.”

“You’re one to talk. What is that hat you’re wearing?”

Rising up on my knees, I look in the mirror. Some kind of pillbox hat with multicolored feathers is sitting askew on my blonde head. “Where the fuck did I get this hat? Is it yours?”

Gemma throws me a flat look. “As fetching as it is, no. Also, your breath smells like ostrich ass.”

“How do you know what ostrich ass smells like?”

“Long story. Don’t ask,” she mutters.

JoJo stumbles in, and we both gape at her. She’s wearing a bright-orange construction vest. “What in god’s name is that?” I ask.

She shrugs. “You gave it to me. You went downstairs about two in the morning to get a bag of Doritos, and you came back with that hat and this vest.” She points at me and then herself.

“What the hell happened last night?” Gemma whispers.

“We drank all the alcohol in Colorado,” Ava moans, stumbling into the room, and we all burst out laughing. Her hair is done in Pippi Longstocking braids. She holds up her middle finger and waggles it at all of us.

“Did you get sick too, Ava?” Gemma asks, and our friend nods.

“Yes, I just tossed my fortune cookies, and I feel a little better.”

I frown. “Isn’t the phrasetossing your cookies?”

“Yes, but we had Chinese food, so I improvised.” Ava flaps her hand. “Stop overanalyzing my euphemism. I’m trying to remember what we did all night. Something with our computers, I think. I definitely remember that.”

“Writing exercises?” Gem suggests. “Can you just imagine what we wrote while drunk off our asses?”

The hair on the back of my neck stands up as vague images flash through my mind. “Umm, I think we started some kind of website. Like, a business or something?”

JoJo’s eyes widen. “We did. The thing where we decided to help guys be more like the men in our books.” She stares up at the corner of the room in thought. “What did we name it?”

“The uhhh…” Gemma scratches the back of her neck. “Wasn’t it The Man-Training Book Sluts?”

I shake my head. “That was Ava’s suggestion, and we were so drunk, we actually considered it for a few minutes.”

“I still think it’s a solid business name. Very descriptive,” our friend argues.

“Book Boyfriend Builders!” JoJo crows, scrolling through her phone, and we all wince at her volume.

For a long moment, four sets of eyes dart to and from each other in a bit of panic as the memories truly begin to sink in. “Shit, we were going to delete it,” Ava reminds us, “before too many people saw it.”

“Libby needs to do that. She set up the website,” Gemma says quickly, reaching out a hand to help me off the floor.

“Crap,” JoJo spits out, staring at her phone. “I hate to tell you this, but I just got an alert that the winter storm is moving in faster than anticipated. You ladies need to try and move your flights to today unless you want to be stuck here for a week.”

“Libs, I’ll work on your flight. You just get that fucking website taken down. JoJo and Ava, find us Advil, lots of water, and something to eat that will absorb all this damn liquor.” Gemma is now in full crisis-management mode as I run for my laptop in the living room.

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