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Bradford Brawler (Bradford Bastard 2)

Page 92

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“Are you fucking with me?” Riley spits. “How is its bronze complexion important right now? The thing is falling off!”

Chanel gives him a hard stare and rolls her eyes. “Did you give that thing a little Riley loving in Ilaria’s tent last night?”

“Of course, I did,” he says, just as Ilaria’s eyes bug out of her head, realizing what Riley had been doing in the tent beside her. “Arizona left me hanging. I had no choice, but how the fuck is this supposed to help? It’s not like I jerked it so fucking hard it was going to fall off.”

“Oh sure, bite my head off, why don’t you?” Chanel throws back at him, tired of his bullshit. “Though I’m probably the only person around this fucked-up little lake that knows why your cock looks like it took a trip to Hawaii.”

“Huh?” Riley says, his hand cupping around his junk, having enough of the lingering stares.

“That shimmery bronze glow is the exact same shade as Ilaria’s suntan lotion,” she deadpans. “You jerked off with Ilaria’s lotion, didn’t you?”

Riley’s face twists with a guilty smirk as Ilaria gapes in horror. “Oh, fuck no,” she cries. “Tell me you didn’t use my suntan lotion? That shit was brand new. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get my hands on that brand? It sells out in like … two seconds. I was on a waiting list and now my summer suntan is smeared all over your dick? Fuck, Riley. Why couldn’t you just go in dry?”

“Are you shitting me?” Riley hollers, throwing his hands up in the air. “First up, no one goes in dry, and second, this is the best news I’ve ever heard. My dick’s not falling off.” He barges into Ilaria, grabbing her around the waist and hoisting her up into the air before manically spinning around, his relief knowing no bounds.

“Oh fuck,” Ilaria panics, her hand clamping over her mouth as she turns green. “I’m gonna be sick.”

Riley being Riley assumes he can push the boundaries just that little bit further despite Ilaria’s warning, and not a moment later, she blows chunks right down his back.

Riley squeals as the wet sloshing sound of Ilaria’s vomit drops heavily to the ground, and I have to turn away, my stomach clenching at the sight.

“Ahhh, fuck no,” Hudson says, watching the performance from the entrance of the tent he shared with Addison, despite Tanner’s objections. Though if Addison were going to be safe with anyone out here, it would have been Hudson. “It’s too fucking early for this shit. I’m out.”

Hudson bails and pushes back into his tent as Addison darts into the bushes past the lake, screaming something about nearly wetting her pants. Tanner smirks and shakes his head as I start making my way back to our tent. There’s a fresh morning chill in the air that has shivers sailing over my skin, and I’d kill for one of Tanner’s hoodies right now. Bonus points if it smells like him too.

By the time his favorite hoodie is skirting around my thighs, and I’m inhaling Tanner’s natural scent left on the material, my phone is buzzing from somewhere beneath the mess of blankets and pillows.

Tossing things over my shoulder, I scramble around until I find my phone hidden beneath the evidence of last night’s activities, and I pick it up before immediately wishing I hadn’t.

A text from my mother flashes on the screen and this chilled out, incredible mood I’ve been feeling since the moment we arrived at the lake dissipates. My ass drops onto the half deflated air mattress, and I let out a heavy sigh before opening the text and scanning over what I can only assume have been carefully put together sentences.

Mom - Brielle, despite our differences, you must know that you and your brother are the loves of my life, and it would make me the happiest woman on earth if you would stand by my side as my maid of honor while Orlando and I profess our love for one another in front of the world. I know we officially tied the knot in Paris, however I believe a grand white wedding would simply be spectacular. What do you say? Jensen has so gracefully accepted Orlando’s offer to be his best man, and I can only hope that Damien will be right there with us, assuming he can make it, of course. But having you as my maid of honor? Sweetheart, that would be a dream come true.

My mouth drops as I take a look at the attached e-vite, asking me to RSVP to the wedding of the year, all the fancy little details already sorted out as though she’s been planning this for weeks.

A solid ache settles into my chest, and as Tanner watches me through the open tent door, his brows furrowed and eyes full of concern, I can’t help but shake my head. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”


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