At the Stroke of Midnight (Naughty Princess Club 1)

A part of me thinks it’s probably not a good idea I’m here now, when I can barely stand up on my own and PJ’s house suddenly turns into ten PJ houses as I have to blink my eyes to get everything to focus.

“It’s like a castle,” I whisper as Ariel grabs my arm and starts dragging me up the driveway and along the front walk while Belle walks quietly behind us.

“Yes, and you’re Drunk Princess, coming home to get her Prince Charming.”

She helps me up the steps of the front porch with minimal stumbling, propping me up against the side of the house as Belle rings the bell. I hear the muffled chime coming from inside the house as the wine and nerves pooling in my stomach start fighting to the death, making me press my hand over my mouth.

“Do you remember what we rehearsed on the way over here?” Ariel asks.

I nod my head, but quickly stop when the front porch starts to spin, slowly dropping my hand from my face.

“Tell him he’s my future. Tell him I don’t want Brian. Tell him to stick it in my ass,” I reply with a giggle.

“Yep, you’re good to go.”

She grabs my arm and pulls me away from the house, tucking me against her side when we hear footsteps from inside.

PJ opens the door, and I have the urge to lean forward and lick his face. It looks like he just got out of the shower. He’s wearing my favorite pair of well-worn jeans, which ride low on his hips, and a T-shirt that molds itself to all of his delicious muscles. The messy spikes of his dark brown hair are still damp.

“Hi!” I greet him with a loud burst of excitement. “My future Brian can stick it in my ass.”

Ariel and Belle groan, and PJ looks back and forth among all of us in confusion. I attempt to be all sexy and waltz toward him, but I trip over the doorstep and smack right into his chest. His arms quickly wrap around me, holding me tightly to him and stopping me from falling to the ground.

“Our work here is done. She’s all yours. Make sure you hold her hair back when she pukes,” Ariel tells PJ as I keep my cheek pressed to his chest.

“Don’t break her heart or I’ll break your face,” Belle adds in an unusual showing of balls as she points her finger at him.

I blow them a sloppy kiss as they link arms, turn, and jog down the steps to the Uber driver still waiting in the driveway.

With his arms still around me, PJ pulls me into the foyer and closes the door.

“You smell yummy,” I tell him, taking a big whiff of his T-shirt before he unwraps his arms from around me and gently grabs my upper arms, pushing me away from him so he can look down at me.

I’m so busy trying to remember how to use my legs and also stop myself from sniffing him again that I don’t even notice the person standing in the foyer behind PJ until she makes her presence known with a loud huff of annoyance.

“I didn’t know you were expecting company.”

Motherfucking Malibu Barbie Melissa glares at me over PJ’s shoulder, and I have just enough clarity in my drunken brain to smack my hands against PJ’s chest and jerk myself away from him.

“Are you kidding me?!” I screech, wishing my voice sounded all raspy and hot like stupid Melissa’s instead of like someone just stepped on a cat.

“Cynthia, it’s not—”

I cut PJ off with a raise of my hand. My heart almost hurts more hearing him use my full name instead of his nickname for me, when it should be breaking completely in half because I found another woman in his home. Another woman whom he claimed was the type of woman he used to be into.

Liar, liar, pants I’m gonna burn to the fucking ground. Poetry is hard when you’re drunk.

“So, I guess now I know why you haven’t returned my calls or my texts the last few days.”

When my voice hitches over the burn in the back of my throat as I hold back the tears, I almost wish I were screeching again. I’d rather continue being pissed off at him right now than look like an idiot in front of him and the slutty woman currently smirking at me from behind him.

I can’t believe I thought he looked so hot when he opened the door, looking like he just got out of the shower. A shower he probably shared with miss perfect tits and ass over there.

“Melissa showed up here five minutes before you did, and she was just leaving,” PJ growls in annoyance, his eyes never leaving mine.

I don’t want to believe him. I’d be a fool to believe him, considering what Brian did under my nose for all those years. But he continues completely ignoring Melissa while she huffs and puffs and stomps her foot and practically throws a temper tantrum in his foyer, until she realizes he’s not going to say another word to her.