Completed | First draft | cliche | unedited
Book 1 - can be read as a standalone.
• • •
K-I-S-S-I-N-G
First comes love,
Then comes marriage,
Then comes a baby sitting in a carriage!
You know the rhyme, right?
That's how it goes but we all know li...
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I was approachingthirty.
I didn't know how to feel about that.
I mean, it was just a number, but it was the number. The big three-oh.
The end of my carefree life and the beginning of what-the-fuck do I do now?
Obviously, I was thrilled.
I glance around at the group surrounding me, my best-friends piled in a semi-circle in the booth. If you could see all of us now, you would notice a few things.
There was seven of us.
Seven. In case you didn't know, that's an odd number.
There was James and his husband Patrick.
There was Zalha and her fiancé Lachlan.
There was the lovebirds, Keelie and Reece.
Then, there was me.
The seventh wheel.
The always single one.
It doesn't help that my sister - my identicaltwin sister is getting married in a few weeks.
That doesn't stop my group of friends from finding reasons to hook me up with their friends, coworkers, brothers, acquaintances and even strangers.
Which brings us to now, in this bar with the man my friends are pointing at subtly.
In other words, I'm pretty sure the man caught their ogling ten minutes ago and now just lets them look their fill.
"He's dream worthy, Rose!" Zahla squeals, hugging her fiancé's arm tightly. Even Lachlan seems enamoured with the handsome man at the bar.
"I'd fuck him." Patrick whispers conspiratorially.
"Me too." Sighs James, waggling his brows.
Patrick whips his head to his husband. "Threesome?"
"Babe." James looks incredulous. "Is that even a question?"
I roll my eyes, peaking over my shoulder at the mystery man.
His muscles contract as he reaches forward for his drink, the amber liquid dark in the crystal glass as he takes a sip. I can't see much from this angle but what I can see is oh-so-delicious and oh-so-out of my league. A sharp jawline peppered with a five o'clock shadow, strong facial features, plump but not pouty lips that part as he brings the glass to them.
