Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Go shameless or go home.
BLAIR
“Oh my god, look at all these people!”
My jaw hits the floorboard of Beau’s fancy truck.
My deodorant quits her job.
I suck my teeth, worried the broccoli I didn’t eat is stuck in them, too, while my bare legs in white vinyl thigh-high boots feel too exposed in my Galaxy babe cosplay outfit.
“Take me home,” I rush. “I gotta change.”
“Babe, you look awesome.” Beau drives toward the back of the bookstore, where the line of people wraps around the large brick building. “You look like the badass astro babes you write about. Better yet, you look exactly like Azora Reign, the bestselling paranormal romance author, and all these people want to meet you.”
“Where did you get your pen name from anyway?” Colt asks from the back seat.
“Azora was my mom’s middle name.”
My hands are shaking. How can I sign books when I’m about to pass out?
“Then you got this,” Colt says. “She’s smiling down on you.”
Gently, he cups my shoulder, clad in a white bodysuit. It’s more like a long-sleeved, one-piece swimsuit with a silver turtleneck, intergalactic epaulets, and a black harness for my laser blaster. But instead of a plastic gun, I’m loaded with black Sharpies.
Colt’s right. I think of my mom and clench my fists, lifting my chin.
I can do this.
Mom used to pay me a dollar for every short story I wrote on an old typewriter. I loved tapping away on that thing, and she loved supporting my dream. She raised me like a pro.
“You sure you don’t want us to stay with you?”
Beau sounds worried, not about my outfit celebrating my genre. It’s for his fans, who have been rabid for me since their three pre-season wins.
Why?
Because when a reporter shoved a microphone in Beau’s sexy, sweaty face in the locker room after their first win, asking why Beau kept smiling on the field, he answered, “What can I say? I love the game. I love my team. And I love who’s waiting at home for me.”
I haven’t been able to leave his house since. There’s no way I’ll go to their games.
Not yet.
When Beau had the idea of my first book signing to cheer me up, I decided to turn it into my debut. I want to be surrounded by my kind of people in my favorite world—a bookstore brimming with romance readers.
But some people in line are wearing his Atlanta jersey, and some are press for sure. So, that’s why I came up with the plan with his publicist to give away signed Touchdown panties to every reader and fan here, too.
What can I say?
Go shameless or go home.
“Nope, I got this,” I answer Beau while he stops his truck in front of the back door. “Vale’s in there to help me. Ruby, too. There’s a shit-ton of security. We’re giving away romance books, football panties, blue alien sports bottles, and purple penis-shaped iced sugar cookies to all. What could go wrong?”
“Okay. Go for the win, baby.” Beau leans over so I meet his lips halfway. “Text us if you need us.”
We kiss, then kiss again. And I want to kiss Colt too, so I glance and make sure no paps are hiding. We’re clear, so quickly, I lean toward the backseat, and we steal a kiss.
“Proud of you,” Colt whispers over my lips.
“Where are you taking him?” I ask.
“Top Golf,” Colt answers. “I’m taking him on a date so your dad won’t hand us our asses the first time we play.”
“Sorry, guys.” I grab my Hello Kitty backpack. “That’s the one thing my dad does better than you.”
Beau grins as I open the door. “You saying you doubt our strokes?”
“Not if you keep practicing your strokes with Colt,” I tease back. “See you in four hours.”
“We’ll be right here,” Colt answers.
There are moments you want to slow time and this is one.
I don’t want this afternoon to end. I’m overwhelmed by meeting my readers. I can’t give enough hugs, signatures, and selfies because I cherish them.
All those lonely days when I felt like the geeky author in middle school, the one not invited to sit at the popular romance girls’ table. The one who barely made ends meet, so I sold dildos to get by.
Little did I know it was fate all along.
Because that’s where I met my friends at Delta’s. That’s where my twin and I grew even closer. That’s where I proudly sold vibrators to pay for kinky, cute alien book cover art. And that’s where this guy I loved to hate in college stumbled in on Valentine’s Day, buying a French maid’s outfit and stealing my heart all over again.
And now, he shares it with his best friend.
“What’s your name?” I smile, asking the next reader in line.
“Brittany,” she answers. “But can you make it out to ‘Lore’? That’s my BOB’s name.”
“I sure can!” I start signing the title page of her copy of Willuf the Wilder. “You know I have lots of BOBs, too.”
“BOBs?” Vale sits beside me, prepping the next book for me to sign, while Ruby’s on my right, handing out my gift bags. “I thought his name is Beau.”
“BOBs are battery-operated boyfriends,” my proud reader explains, and I high-five her with Sharpie in hand. “But is it true? Is Beau Bronson really your boyfriend? Is he really Valen and Willuf?”
Heat flames my cheeks. She’s the fortieth person or so to ask me, and finally, I’m not shy about it. I’m proud. I just hate the half-lie. I hate hiding Colt while revealing Beau.
“Yes.” I close her signed book, handing it over with a wink. “The sexy bastard inspires all my alien smut.”
She giggles, her inked hand hiding her pretty smile. She can’t be barely twenty, wearing rainbow-framed glasses, cute blue lipstick, and two neon green star pimple stickers. I love her. I’m looking in the mirror ten years ago.
“You know,” she shares, “I started watching football because of you and him. I hated it, but now I’m an Atlanta fan.”
“Oh, then you’ll love the Touchdown panties in your gift bag. I signed those for you, too. But don’t tell anyone.” I hook my finger, drawing my kindred spirit in. She leans forward with eager eyes while I whisper, “I hated football, too, but then I saw his ass in those tight white football pants, and I fell in love.”
Who?
Beau and Colt have peaches I bite every night. Seriously, I do it in bed and drive them crazy.
“Are you going to his games?” Brittany asks, tightly clutching my book to her chest. “I’ll look for you on the screen if you are.”
“Soon,” I answer. “Probably his first home game.”
“Is your next book about him too?”
I chew my lip. “Yep.”
It’s about my men.
She bounces in her Doc Martens, so I stand and hug her. Then I walk around, and Ruby snaps a photo for us, too. “I’ll be back in a few months,” I promise her, “to sign my next book for you if you want.”
“Want?” She exclaims. “I can’t wait!”
The afternoon goes by too fast. By the time I’ve met everyone in line, I have four gift bags left, an exhausted twin, and an efficient new friend packing up my remaining supplies for me to pick up tomorrow.
“Y’all saved my ass today. Thank you. Let me buy you dinner,” I offer. “Girls night out. We can do a strip club to celebrate. Seriously, they have the best sushi. Pun intended.”
Ruby grins, her face tilting with regret. “Sorry. I can’t. I have plans.”
“Me, too,” Vale replies. “Maybe next time.”
What? Since when does my twin pass on a VIP table, rainbow rolls, and nude bodies?
Vale’s staying at the Ritz. Ruby said she is, too. When they turned down my offer to stay with us, I was too nervous about today, but now?
“What are y’all hiding?”
Vale bats her lashes. “Nothing.”
“Please. I can smell your cunty conspiracy.”
Ruby laughs. “If you can smell me, tell me. That’s serious Girl Code.”
“All I smell is a secret queef between you two.”
My eyes bounce from Vale, her hair in another elegant twist, and Ruby, who looks equally glamorous, and that’s when I notice.
“Wait,” I ask Vale, leaning closer. “When did you pierce your face?”
“A few weeks ago.” Blood rushes Vale’s guilty cheeks. “It’s no big deal. It’s a Monroe piercing. You know, for our name.”
“Uh, you know, for your bullshit.” I laugh, pointing to Ruby. “It matches hers. Same diamond. Same place. And you’re both staying at the Ritz and bailing on me tonight. I know you’re in a pussy pact, planning something. What is it?”
It’s not a stretch. Vale’s the manager of Delta’s and Stacey, the owner, said Ruby shops there a lot lately.
Want more clues?
Vale’s been fucking and falling in love with Mr. Nash Allen during his secret meetings. And Ruby fronts a secret group of closeted NFL players and other professionals who host poly parties.
Professionals? Parties? Meetings? Poly?
“Oh my god,” I gasp. “Please tell me you’re in a three-decker with Mr. Allen. Please tell me you’re the only human alive who’ll marry Vale.” I grab Ruby’s hand. “I’ve always wanted a badass sister.”
“You cum sponge,” Vale scoffs. “I’m your badass sister. And no, we’re not in a three-decker with Nash.”
But I glance at Ruby, searching her eyes.
My twin is too good at lying to me. For years, she denied brushing our dog with my hairbrush.
But Ruby is new to our deception. Something glimmers in her dark blue eyes. “Ah-hah!” I point. “I knew it! You’re up to something.”
“Not everyone eats three-layered cake.” Vale sounds annoyed, which means I’m right.
“Uh, obviously.” I laugh. “You two are with more than three. You’re in a baker’s dozen. Question is with who? Who gave you matching Monroes?”
Ruby shakes her head. “We were warned you’d do this.”
“Do what?” I flex my hand over my chest. “Spot a cocks and cunts party a mile away? Sorry, not sorry, I’m a bloodhound for kink.”
“No.” Vale jumps in. “We were warned you’d ruin the surprise.”
“What surprise?”
“The one waiting outside the back door for you,” Vale confesses. “The reason we have plans tonight and aren’t staying at your house. The reason I’ve been a mule of sex supplies for your horny boyfriends. So shut up and go have a cocky celebration.” She kisses the air. “Love you, bitch.”
“Love you, cunt.” Ruby does the same.
But I wag a finger, walking backward toward the storage room door, hoping to glimpse their true conspiracy.
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll go get surprise fucked, but I know you’re up to some fucking, too.”
They don’t answer, and my wheels are still turning about my twin and friend while I wave goodbye to the store manager and her staff.
Then I push open the back door. It slams behind me as I step into the Atlanta night. It’s warm. It’s dark. It takes a second to see…
Beau’s truck isn’t here.
No one is.
“What the fu?—”
I don’t even finish my curse before I’m grabbed from behind, a hand covering my screaming mouth. My pulse explodes, my ears ringing in terror as lips press to one.
“What’s your safe word, Kitten?”
I sag, “Kumquat,” muttering into Beau’s big hand. I’d know his safe sound, his smell, his voice at a swinger’s party.
“Good girl,” he jeers. Headlights flick on in the alley. A truck engine roars to life. A blindfold falls over my eyes while Beau taunts, “You’re ours now. We’re kidnapping you. We’re taking you to our lair, where we’ll tie you up and fuck you in every dirty way possible. You’re our little human slut to breed tonight.”
Oh, good Goddess of My Kinkiest Fantasy.
I’m naming our first daughter Ruby Vale.
I’m so damn thankful those bitches sold my ass out to alien whoremongers.