"Yes! Yes! Yes!" My girls chanted around me, drunken arms flying in the air as the shirtless men made their way to our section for the fourth time in the past hour. Hand-held strobe lights flashed, oiled chests shimmered, and a huge bottle of Veuve Clicquot champagne was poised heavy in their hands. Each time they'd bring a bottle, the crowd would go a little more wild. Which was saying a lot considering the place was packed, the DJ was on fire, and confetti blasted in the air every twenty minutes.
"Happy birthday, Avery!" Katrina squeezed me for the millionth time tonight, and I didn't have to force my smile as I took in the pumping Vegas nightclub.
Moments after Collins pulled 'The Black Card' we boarded a small private plane from LA. to Vegas and toured our massive suite at the Aria.
"So, Collins has free reign to choose someone for Avery to kiss tonight?!" Fi had asked, adjusting her neon green hair and giggling a little in our limo on the way out. We'd all worn vibrant colored wigs, per Chantel's request, atop our skin tight dresses.
"Yes." Chantel responded boredly, bobbing her head up and down in her shorter straight turquoise wig.
"What if she doesn't like the guy?" Rox piped up in a long red wig, which oddly suited her.
"Oh, she will..." Collins promised, her bright pink hair matching Leisha's which I didn't think was an accident. "I'll make sure he's a total catch."
"I'm sure you will." I rolled my eyes, not feeling totally on board with this whole charade. Rumor had it, my father had kissed my mother after being presented the card on his tour bus the summer they met, and again when he proposed. As a result, we'd always had a few of the black Gage playing cards lying around our house. They functioned as coasters, and magnets, and my father even had the design made into a bow tie when he had an event to attend.
As weird as the whole thing was, I trusted Collins after our recent months of bonding...even if I didn't really feel like kissing anyone at all. That kind of thing always got me into trouble.
"Are you having fun?!" Katrina shouted, squeezing my thigh from where we now sat on the white leather bench of our VIP section, pulling me back to the present. I still hated these fucking sections. The measures I had to take to have fun and not get bombarded. Even on my birthday, and in a bright violet wig, I still had people gawking at me, which I supposed could also be attributed to my supermodel entourage. Chantel alone looked like sex personified.
"I'm having the time of my life Katrina! Really! I'm with my favorite people..." Minus one. Eli's blue eyes flitted through my mind, and I accepted the flute of champagne that Rox unsteadily offered me. Her alcohol tolerance had become severely diminished after her recent pregnancy, and resulted in her dancing...a lot. "What could be better?"
I stifled my laughter as I watched her shake her ass on a stiff looking Chantel.
"Go away and dance on someone else." Chantel growled, gently pushing her aside. "You're cock blocking me from Mister Blue Eyes." She raised an eyebrow at a tall guy in the section next to us.
'Mister Blue Eyes' extended his hand and Chantel accepted, climbing over the red velvet rope, blowing me a kiss and mouthing Happy Birthday as she crossed over. We'd officially lost one.
"Another one bites the dust..." Rox giggled, sitting down on the tail of my ivory 'It's my 21st birthday!" sash. I shifted and pulled it out of her ass. "Make that two." She took a sip out of my champagne flute. "Or three I guess." I followed her gaze to the two pink wigs that were going at it, their lips locked together, their tongues in each other's mouthes while their small feminine hands clawed at one another.
YOU ARE READING
The Sweetest Summer
Romance**COMPLETE** Elijah West was everything, and I was just...Avery Adams. The tomboy, the girl next door, the friend zone occupant. The girl who somehow grew up while he was gone filming his television show. But this summer he's back, and the sparks a...
