Page 93 of Bodybuilders for the BBW

“Um… surprise me?”

“Mm… I’d love to.”

Before I could ask what the hell that meant, he pulled away and disappeared into the crowd, aiming for the bar.

That just left me standing there, conscious that the women on either side were sneaking looks my way. Were they wondering how the hell I bagged him? I didn’t know, instead catching his eye when he finally reached the bar as he turned and smiled my way. I smiled back, unable to help myself, before dragging out my phone to find messages from my sister.

Did they all turn up?she had written.And if so, how many died of cardiac arrest at that dress, because damn. You and Mum got so blessed by the boob fairy that there was none left for me.

I obviously hadn’t responded, but that didn’t stop her from continuing the conversation.

No reply. Promising. Either they’re all there, showing you a good time, or you decided fuck buying overpriced, watered down beer and went back to their place to have an even better time.

My head shook from side to side as I read more.

Maybe don’t do that. Look, I get I’m the younger sister and you’ve got this weird idea that I should listen to you. Never gonna happen, by the way. I just think if you want to get serious about these guys, maybe don’t fall into bed with them.

She’d waited five whole minutes to amend this by the time stamp.

Or do it. I’m not your mum. I can’t tell you what to do. Speaking of which, Mum called and we’re on for family dinner tomorrow night. Seeing as you’re giving me nothing to work with here, after spending all that time looking for the perfect dress, you can spill the deets there.

It was lucky Garrett didn’t have a blood pressure machine with him, because mine would’ve spiked dramatically. Right as I was about to furiously tap out a response, the line ended and a toilet door opened. I shoved my phone into my bag and went to do my business, emerging out of the toilets moments later after washing my hands. I gazed out over the crowd, wondering if Rhys was still waiting to get served, when this guy stumbled into me.

“Oh, sorry… boobs!” Those bloodshot eyes, that glassy stare made clear that he was drunk. His hands rose, fingers flexing, as if he was about to cop a feel. I dodged to one side, and he followed my movements, forcing me to move faster. I thought I was safe when I managed to outwit him, faking jerking left and then dipping right and slipping past the guy.

Then he said the words.

“Fucking fat bitch.”

They didn’t need to hurt. I knew from experience Mandie got called shit like that when she shut guys down, and if she copped it, so did every woman. Didn’t stop me from stiffening, though. I could’ve turned on my heel, given the guy a serve, anything, but instead I stood tall, took in a deep breath, and then kept on walking.

He was just some drunk idiot. What he thought of me didn’t matter, and there was a strange kind of freedom that came from that conclusion. I worked my way through the crowd, finally finding the back door.

And them.

Not just my three dates. Garrett, Rhett, and Rhys were all waiting at the table, fresh drinks in front of them, but hot guys like them would never sit on their own for long. Three girls I didn’t know had dragged up seats, inserted themselves in the spaces between the guys.

Including the seat that Garrett and Rhett had pulled out for me.

Chapter46

Rhys

“Hiii…!”

I looked up at that feminine greeting, ready to smile up at Katie. Part of me hated leaving her in the toilet line, especially after that kiss. My lips were still tingling as I turned to smile at her.

No, them.

Three girls came teetering over, their heels getting caught in the gravel floor of the beer garden with broad grins on their faces.

“Hi, handsome.” I looked down when a hand landed on my shoulder, letting out a growl as soon as she made contact. No, that was Bronson. My boy stuck his head up and made a sound to warn the girl away. “Oh! Didn’t see you there, fella. Aren’t you a cute doggy?”

How fucking drunk was this girl? Bronson was giving off touch-me-and-die vibes, and yet she was reaching out to pat his head.

“He’s not friendly,” I snapped.

And neither am I, I thought. I’d caught sight of the girls when Katie and I walked in. Some women are like big cats. They size up their prey, assess the odds, and then pounce when they think the time is right. I don’t necessarily have a problem with women being forthright, but when I walked in with a girl on my arm? That shit was not cool.

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