His eyes darken in cold realisation. Then he lets go of me—I promptly fall to the floor—and mashes his hands on his hips, staring up. “Author? Bad author!”
“I…” I peer up at him from the dusty floor. “Oh my God! She’s trying to break us up for a cliffhanger ending!”
“And she’s not fucking getting one!” Hunter snaps. He points an accusatory finger at the sky. “You won’t break us, you cynical bitch!”
CAMMIE, booms a strangely familiar voice. We can all hear it—I see it in the surprise and fear on everyone’s faces. CAMMIE, YOU DO NOT NEED A MAN. YOU HAVE GOODREADS. AND A PURPLE SPARKLY UNICORN.
“Don’t listen,” Hunter insists. “She’s trying to brainwash you!”
HE BARELY LASTED FOUR MINUTES. AND TRUST ME, IT ONLY GOES DOWNHILL FROM HERE.
Hunter cringes while Archer cocks an eyebrow.
“Four minutes?” Archer says, looking awfully, er, contemplative.
“Three minutes forty two,” I correct. Then Hunter glares and I wish I hadn’t.
WHAT YOU NEED, author booms, IS TO GO HOME AND GET ON WITH YOUR LIFE.
“I’m an English major!” I shriek. “I’m not going to have a life! Do you know the employment figures for graduates like me?”
YES, Author says. I TOO WAS AN ENGLISH MAJOR.
“And now,” Hunter snipes, “you’re writing dicks like me for a living.”
I’M WRITING DICKS LIKE YOU FOR A LIVING.
“And me,” Archer chirps, looking perturbed at being left out.
AND YOU, ARCHER. ALTHOUGH FRANKLY, YOU’RE LESS OF A DICK. ON A SCALE OF ONE TO CHRIS BROWN, YOU’RE MORE ON THE PIERS MORGAN END OF THINGS.
Archer gives his brow a little wipe. “Good to know.”
Enid pats his hand with a proud beam.
“Cammie doesn’t need to run away and get on with her life,” Hunter retorts to the sky. “What’s she going to do, blog for a living? I can take care of her with my vast vaults of money.”
I shrug. “He’s right. I mean, what skills do I really have, anyway? Only website design, photo editing, copy writing, PR, social media management…” I trail off, suddenly feeling tearful at my blatant lack of prospects. “What am I going to do with any of those things in the real world?”
BUT CAMMIE. THE INTERNET IS THE REAL WORLD.
“Yeah,” I snort, “and I’m a baby marmoset.”
DON’T FUCK WITH ME BECAUSE I WILL TOTALLY MAKE THAT HAPPEN.
I recoil, coming to rest in Hunter’s arms. “Sorry, sorry.”
“Quick,” he whispers. “We’ve got to foil her before she makes you say any more humiliating things about me.”
“I know. I’m sorry, Hunter—”
“It’s okay. But we know why she’s doing this, right?”
“God complex?” I count on my fingers. “She’s bored? Insomnia? Ooh…her alimony ran out?”
“Most likely all of those things. But also…” He does a little drumroll on my boobs and looks very pleased with himself. “Series potential.”
“Oh!” I clasp my hands to my mouth. “I’m the book blogger! Why didn’t I think of that?”
I CAN HEAR YOU, YOU KNOW.
Hunter pulls a face and silently mimics the author. The pair of us collapse into giggles.
And then I have an idea.
I point to Archer with a shaking index finger. “Enid likes you,” I blurt.
Archer, who is still looking almost as confused as I’ve been for this entire thing, blinks a lot. “You what?”
Enid gapes at me in sheer horror. No, she mouths. No, Cammie.
Shit happens, Enid. When the going gets tough, the tough use their friends as a scapegoat! “Enid likes you, Archie. She always has.”
Hunter grabs me from behind and plants a wet smack of a kiss on my neck. “Genius, gosling. Absolute genius.”
WHAT ARE YOU DOING? WHY ARE YOU MESSING WITH MY PLOT, YOU SLY LITTLE MUFFINS?
“We’re not messing with it,” I say blithely. “We’re just…going down another line of conflict.”
THAT’S MY JOB. NOT YOURS!
“Enid?” Archer stares at her, his expression twisted in a haze of dubious apprehension. “Is—is Cammie telling the truth? Do you…have a crush on me?”
She slaps a palm over her eyes. “Maybe,” she croaks. “For fuck’s sake, Cammie. And I’m all out of vodka too.”
There’s a pause. Not even the indignant author says anything; it’s like we’re all waiting for a bubble to burst.
Please God, let it not be a weasel.
I CAN TOTALLY MAKE THAT HAPPEN TOO. JUST FYI.
“I’m aware of that!” I shriek.
“Well this is weird,” Archer says finally. He’s kicking at the dust with his sneaker, not sure where to look.
“I’m sorry, really sorry,” Enid blathers, her cheeks redder than my ransacked snatch. “I didn’t mean for you to find out, I’m sorry—”
“It is kind of cool,” Archer says softly.
We all snap up.
“Uh, what?” I say.
“What?” Enid repeats, her lips slowly parting.
“It’s a little weird,” Archer goes on, looking bashful, “but…cool.”
Enid wipes sweaty palms on her pleather mini. “Archie, what does that even mean?”
“I’m not sure.” He reaches up to adjust the neck brace, grimacing in discomfort. “But it’s, you know, it could be…”
“Something?” She barely whispers, but the word hangs in the air and all of us wait for it to take off like a rocket.
Archer manages the tiniest nod. “Yeah.”
I’m not sure what to feel. I mean, sure, I love Archer, but I’m in love with Hunter. I just had sex with him—what more proof do you need? And yet I can feel tiny prickles of jealousy in my crevices when Archer looks at Enid like…that. I almost want to say, Don’t! She’s a whore, Archie! But I can’t because she’s my friend. Ugh.
Yeah, I’m totally not becoming a better friend after all. Trolololol.
I NOTICED.
Meanwhile, Enid is stumbling closer to Archer, half because she’s drunk and half because she’s just plain nervous. It’s written all over her face (figuratively. I can’t believe I feel the need to clarify that).
“So…so where do we go from here?” she asks him, smiling shyly.
He gives a good-natured smile in return, tugging at a tuft of his hair. “I don’t know. This all feels a little sudden…”
Phew. Good choice, Archer.
“I mean, I feel like we should, you know, dick around for a whole book before we figure it out,” he concludes.
OH, YOU FUCKERS.
“I’d like that,” Enid whispers. I’ve never seen her look so coy.
Archer brushes light fingertips to her waist. “Me too.”
WELL THAT’S JUST GREAT. THERE GO MY PLANS FOR THE NEXT MONTH OR TWO. I WAS GOING TO, HEY—HAVE A LIFE—BUT NOW I’VE GOT TO WRITE ARCHER’S BOOK. LET ME SEE. HOW SHALL I TAG THIS ONE? HOW ABOUT FIND OUT HOW A GUY THINKS…WHEN HE’S WRITTEN BY A WOMAN?
My inner book blogger bristles. “Oh no, she didn’t.”
“I actually like that.” Hunter cocks his tousled head.
Archer tries to nod again. “It works.”
WELL I GUESS IF TWO GUYS SAY SO, IT MUST BE OKAY.
Archer beams. “See? We’re useful!”
YEAH. ROOOOOOLLING MY EYES HERE.
I look up to the sky, where the clouds have begun to part and the sun is shining through. “Does this mean that Hunter and I get our Happy Ever After?”
Hunter clutches me around the waist, awaiting the answer as eagerly as me.
NOW YOU’RE JUST BEING CHEEKY.
“No?” He tuts to himself. “How about a Happy For Now?”
OH, GO ON THEN. BUT ONLY BECAUSE IT’S LIKE 3 a.m. AND I NEED SLEEEEEP. SLEEEEP.
“Ya—”
I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT SLEEP IS ANYMORE, BUT I HEAR IT’S VERY PLEASANT.
Hunter does a little fi
st bump with Archer. “Happy for Now!” he exclaims, elated.
“I know!” Archer gestures between himself and Enid with an excited half-grin. “And Series Potential! How awesome is that?”
“We’re awesome,” Enid declares. “Awesome with a side of more awesomeness.” Then she begins to sniff, rubbing her eyes. “Aw God, I love you guys!”
Suddenly, a ripple of galloping hooves approaches. We turn to see Sparkles von Fancypants with the iPad in his jaws.
“Neeeeeeigh!” he says, hoofing the ground.
“What’s that? Group shot?” I gesture for everyone to gather around. “Sparkles wants to commemorate the occasion with Instagram.”
Hunter goes to put his arm around Archer, pauses, and then does it anyway. “What the hell.”
Archer flinches away. “No more Archery Dick?”
Hunter sighs. “No more Archery Dick.” He bites his lip. “Except maybe for Enid.”
“Hunter!” she scolds, but I can tell by the look on her face that she’s delighted by the prospect.
Sparkles goes to take the photo, but Hunter holds up a hand. “Wait! Where’s Labron?”
I twist away from his embrace, glancing around. Let’s see: not in the medical tent…not by the Gabriel’s Wrapture stand…not by the…oh Jeez. ”He’s flirting with Jester Hentai Pete,” I say, incredulous.
“He’s such a whore,” Hunter grumbles, though he doesn’t really mean it. Or at least not in the nasty way that girls do. “Labron! Get your peasant arse over here for a cheesy photo!”
Labron looks up from his conversation by a random hay bale, and gives us a confirmation nod. He appears to be getting Jester Hentai Pete’s digits. Ooh. Erm…ew.
Not like, because Pete’s a dude. But Jester Hentai Pete, seriously?
Labron hurries over and jostles in between Archer and Hunter.
“Hot diggety dawg. I can’t believe you assholes would have had a photo without me,” he grunts. “I better not have missed anything good.”
Enid and I exchange secretive glances. Despite my uncanny stabbings of jealousy earlier, I’m feeling like a better friend again. And I’m feeling like things could really work with Hunter. He deflowered me with at least a modicum of skill. I can still walk, albeit with a slight limp, though he said he finds that sexy. And he does have all that money, and the deliciously tortured past that I—
FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, WILL YOU GET ON WITH IT? I NEED TO SLEEP!
Fine, fine, fine.
“Neeeeigh!” Sparkles instructs, trotting sideways to get us all into shot.
I nestle into Hunter’s arms, groping his abs beneath his shirt and feeling wonderfully comforted by the square rise of his wallet farther down. “Sparkles says, strike a pose!”
Archer does his post-stroke Poirot. Enid raises imaginary pompoms like a cheerleader. Hunter and I do our sex faces because we just had sex, dirty filthy sex, and we want everyone to know about it.
Labron throws his arms around all of us, grinning into the lens as he makes a peace sign. “Vogue, motherfuckers!”
And we Vogued late into the night.
THE END
COMING SPRING 2014
QUEST FOR YOU
FIND OUT WHAT A GUY THINKS…WHEN HE’S WRITTEN BY A WOMAN
(YES, I AM TOTALLY GOING WITH THAT ONE)
Acknowledgements
I wouldn’t have been able to write this book without the awesome new adult titles that have become so iconic in such a short space of time. That’s some feat, people. If you wrote one of these books: thank you.
I also wouldn’t have been able to write this without the help of Pepsi Max, or Tesco’s own Sweet’n’Salted Popcorn. They are officially my brothers in arms (or would be, if they had…arms).
On a more serious note: thank you to Andy for rushing to beta-read this, even when you had far more interesting things to do (like play darts on your phone. Or, er, recover from a serious illness). Thank you to Christa, who helped this clueless Brit make sure that Cammie sounded at least slightly American. Thank you to Kenny, as always, for the gorgeous cover art, and thank you to my editor, who spots things I would happily type right past with a huge grin on my face.
To all the lovely people who read and review my books: thank you. I like you very much. Do stick around; I hear that Archer’s book will be fabulous. Especially if he can admit to liking Sean Paul.
OTHER BOOKS BY LUCY V. MORGAN
The Whored Series
CHAIRMAN OF THE WHORED
THE WHORED’S PRAYER
*
BEAUTIFUL MESS
TWISTED SUMMER
Visit www.lucyvmorgan.com for deleted scenes, free short stories featuring series characters, and self-righteous blog posts about pop culture.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Lucy V. Morgan writes sharp contemporary fiction, usually with a liberal splatter of filth. She is the author of the new adult WHORED series and the standalones TWISTED SUMMER and BEAUTIFUL MESS.
In her new adult parody, TOUSLE ME, Lucy pays homage to her genre in the best way she knows how: by mocking it mercilessly.
Lucy lives in England, where she also works as an editor. She spends her spare time consuming lebkuchen, working through her TBR pile, and pretending she's an urban fantasy heroine in body combat classes.
She shares lots of teasers on Facebook, so you should look her up right this minute, really, shouldn’t you?
Contents
Title page
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
OTHER BOOKS BY LUCY V. MORGAN
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Tousle Me Page 25
