Page 29 of Hate You Forever (Hate 1)

Reilly scoffs. “Trust me, she remembered exactly who I was. Damn, that girl is freaky in bed. I’m telling you, she was up for anything.”

“Sounds just like you.” I’ve never seen Reilly refuse anything when it comes to sex.

“I was in heaven, man. Butt plugs, vibrators, the works. There were all kinds of toys in that drawer of hers. That girl is my wet dream—an absolute fantasy come true.” My top lip lifts in disgust, and he catches it. “You’re just jealous because you could never please a wild girl like her. Your vanilla ass probably only likes missionary.”

That sounds like a challenge I’d usually be up for, but it’s not one I can be worrying about right now. I have other problems to focus on.

“Vanilla, my ass. Either way, I don’t have to please her. The only girl I have to please is my wife for a year.”

“Oh yeah, you got her to sign?”

I nod. “You’re looking at an engaged man.” I hate that I even have to do this. Fuck you, Dad.

“Shit. I never thought I’d see the day. Want me to throw you the most epic bachelor party before you’re tied down?”

I shoot him a warning look. “Not needed. It’s not like we can’t fuck other people while we’re married. As long as we keep it quiet that it’s fake, we can fuck whoever we want.”

Shit, maybe I should’ve made it where she can’t fuck anyone else. After all, I barely know her; she might not be able to keep her legs together for longer than two seconds. All it would take is a pair of loose lips to ruin the whole plan.

“You sure you can make it a year? You can barely make it a week or two without a new woman. And when you’re done, you bolt outta there as soon as the condom hits the trash can.”

“I’m gonna have to. This has to work.”

He nods, pursing his lips, doubt written on his face. “I hope so. When’s the big day?”

“Not sure. Just told Mom on my way home. You know her, she’s gonna wanna plan the whole thing. But the sooner the better.”

“How’d Mom take it?” There’s a small surge of happiness that warms my chest when he calls her Mom. He’s been part of our family since he was thirteen. My mom loves him like he’s her own—he practically is at this point.

“She was fine, once I got her to calm down and let me get a word in. You know how she gets when she’s all worked up.”

Reilly chuckles, running his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, but she means well.”

Always defending her. Sometimes, I think he’s a better son than I am.

Picking up his equipment bag, he heads toward the door. “We can talk about this more over dinner, especially the part about me being your best man. Mariana’s made her famous lasagna. But I’m just gonna go put Penny away first.”

He knows I hate that. Penny is his fucking tattoo gun. He claims that the old machine—which he’s had for longer than he should—is lucky. He named it Penny, as in a lucky penny.

“Such an idiot,” I mutter under my breath as I stand, heading toward my room to change.

He may be a complete weirdo most of the time, but he’s also my brother. I wouldn’t have survived all those years with my father if Reilly wasn’t there. My thoughts always come full circle to my father these days. Probably because he had to make this hard for me, like always.

Well, jokes on him. I’ve found a girl to marry, and we’re going to pull this off.

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