(Fee-bee) Phoebe was a part time college student.
But that was before HE came into her life, Phoebe was a lot of things before HE popped up.
She WAS;
a virgin
a full-time worker at the hotel near her apartment
seemingly always late on her rent
a...
AN: I'm not a fan of the video but I love the song. So, I have two major announcements to make; 1.) I'm entering SDC into a writing contest! It's called the KIS (Keep It Steamy) Awards2017. It's specifically for mature books, such as this one. An added bonus is that they might still be looking for judges.! Go to KIS_Awards To fill out the judge form if you're interested. I know that my book isn't quality judge material- which leads up to #2.) I have officially gotten this book an Editor!! How awesome is that!? We've just started so she hasn't gotten this far in the book yet.
BTW: Combining the chapters of this book together was mind. blowing. How did y'all deal with all of my crazy notes? ~~Remember that they were fooling around in Mr. M's car before reaching the door to his apartment, where the party is in full swing. And here's L. Harvey in awesome dress that I'm using for visual purposes.
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We walk into Mr. M's apartment and there are people everywhere. My first instinct is to turn tail and run in the other direction, I'm positive Mr. M knows this as he places a hand firmly on my backside pushing me forward. I turn to glare at him but he's not looking at me.
Instead his attention is on a man walking up to us with a scowl on his face. He's tall, over 6' feet, with an ugly comb over and he has on pea green/white golf pants with a matching shirt. His wife must hate him if she lets him walk out of the house like this.
"Where were you!? We were looking all over for you until it was obvious that you were just simply not here. Who the hell shows up late to a party being thrown at their house?" All his anger is directed at Mr. M, who seems indifferent to the screaming man. He just keeps blinking like his eyes refuse to see the man's ensemble.
"No one, besides you, really looks put out with my tardiness. In fact, I'm thinking about leaving again since the party's in full swing." Mr. M's right of course. No one really cared to acknowledge our presence when we first entered and they surely don't care now.
Unless you count the women talking behind their hands, but I account that for Mr. M's overall attractiveness.
The man in front of us looks about ready to blow a gasket so I smoothly step in to lower the tension.
"It's my fault, I just couldn't find anything to wear!" *Insert high pitched fake laugh.* "And when I found an outfit I had no shoes to match, so I had him stop by the store on the way here and THEN I had to decide between these white peep toe pumps or these brown wedges with a corkboard looking heel. Oh, and I almost forgot about the-" I'm shocked that the man let me speak for so long but I just attribute that to his initial shock to my word vomit.
"Okay. Okay! I get it." The man backs away with his hands in the air like I'm armed. My dad always said that there's nothing more dangerous to a man than "talking" to a woman who never shuts up. She'll talk and talk, before you know it- you'll be agreeing to whatever she says just to shut her up. Very dangerous considering that most likely the man won't be paying attention to what he's agreed to.
